#although it's totally an anon lol

[kit-just-kit]

[[Please pretend this is anon]]

Kit, your patience and perseverance are unmet. You are worthy of trust and you are capable of so much more than you think <3 

Thoughts meme maybe?

"That's very lovely of you to say, nonny. I'm not sure I deserve such nice words but, I thank you for giving them to me. In return, I'd like to say that I believe most people we encouter have these traits. Maybe they're not always immediately apparent, sometimes they are hidden beneath hurt and pain but, given the right occasion and person, they can have the chance to shine through".

[adoseofdidreality]

also my blog name wasnt to pretend to be you but to make fun of your username because i think "a dose of did reality" (or even a "a DIDose of reality") is funnier than didadoseofreality

genuinely just replace the word DID with "the shot" or something wild and "a dose of reality" can become a really clever pun for antovaxxers. i think if the op is actually an antivaxxer they can steal that idea and try to come up with a better primary title to be followed by the subtitle "a dose of reality" :P

it would all be really silly shouty lies by an old man/woman/erson who's scared of The Furries Oh my Gosh!!! and it's hillarious

[unhonestlymirror]

Seen an interesting thing:

It's not really clear what anon means by "pro-israel". "Hating on Arabs/Muslims" or "Hating on genocide of Jews"? Let me remind you,

Ukraine is historically the land where Jews could live peacefully until the notorious russian empress Catherine the Second put the Sedentary Band on Ukraine, Belarus and Lithuania. That meant that Jews were deported from villages to cities, the Jews had to take russian-like surnames and names in order not to be arrested or killed - and then, russia organized pogroms all over those cities, including Vilnius, Kyiv, Miensk and Odesa. Jews could not leave the Sedentary Band without being arrested and/or killed. Russia put all sorts of bans and restrictions on Jewish traders, too. As you can see, the soviet union idea has much deeper roots than it seems.

That's why, after the Sedentary Band was cancelled, a large amount of Jews fled away: some to Poland, some to America, some to russia, some to Palestine. In russia, which is originally the biggest antisemit, life sucked pretty much, enough for many already russian-speaking Jews leaving it later and once again migrating to Poland, America, Palestine, etc. So technically, russia, as the biggest sponsor of Hamas, is at fault for both murders of Jews by Islamists and Jewish "occupation" of Palestine, lol.

After soviet pogroms, Holocaust happened, which was followed by even more soviet pogroms, actively financed by russia (go read about Lithuanian Jewish actor Andrei Mironov or Ukrainian composer Isaac Iosifovich Schwartz) - and unfortunately, some Ukrainians actively participated in killing Jews. After Ukraine has gained its independence from russia in 1991, we made sure that Ukrainians will never forget the misery, grief and pain which was brought upon Jews, both by Nazi, communists and just Ukrainian antisemitic collaborants. When I was a kid, every year, we had excursions to Babyn Yar museum - the place where hundreds of hundreds of Jews, including kids and their moms, were brutally murdered.

Ukrainians are "pro-Israel" because we understand what it's like, to be genocided, to be victim-blaimed, when the whole world turns its back on you just because your enemy is richer and more popular. Ukrainians don't hate Muslims or Palestinians - Ukrainians are disgusted by mass murders and rapes Hamas brought upon the Jews and Druzes and random tourists, some Ukrainians actually were killed on October 7, too. Ukrainians know what "Never Again" means. Ukrainians hate rapists and murderers. That's why we are "pro-Israel", бо інакше це треба бути повним дебілом (although it's much more correct to say we are "pro-Jews" since most of us is totally unaware of whatever happens in Israeli government). Despite understanding the anger of those Palestinians, who have to live through war and lose their loved ones because of their idiotic Hamas, we, as a currently genocided nation, actively support the right of Israel to strike its rapist and mass murderer back. We are also thankful to Israel for seriously damaging Iran's production of "shaheds" which kill Ukrainians almost every day.

The idea itself that Ukrainians support Israel because some Israeli happen to know russian language is insane and sounds like a conspiracy theory. Those Ukrainians who believe that "evil zionists are committing genocide" are just either chronically online or those, who didn't study school history properly, or those with prorussian mentality, or ✨️businessmen✨️. Or all of these together. Which is not a lot of people, thanks God. Hope this helps.

P.S. We don't hate Muslims and Arabs. Ukraine has pretty good relations with Turkey, UAE, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, etc. Many Ukrainians I know are fond of UAE in particular because people there are hardworking and like to study and apply the knowledge to make the world better.

[ariseur]

I’m the sephiroth hc anon, yea I was referring to the sfw and nsfw, sorry for not specifying :0

sephiroth (n)sfw hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

guys the motivation is coming back to me TRUST ME i’m slowly but surely working on it.. 🙏🙏

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

post nibelheim sephiroth being jealous, possessive, a little toxic and manipulative, mentions of sephiroths touch repulsion and touch starvation, nsfw will have a warning before it, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ soooo!!!1!1!1

❥ let me start off with pre-nibelheim headcanons because i miss a more domestic and ‘normal’ sephiroth rather than.. crazy seph lol

❥ so now let’s get into the actual thing!!

❥ i do not think that sephiroth is familiar with love whether it’s pre or post nibelheim, and if you read up on my angsty / comfort sephiroth fics you’ll see how i love the portrayal of where he’s so beloved by his fanclub and the public due to being a, “war hero” despite not feeling any close love like how you’d love him. the closest he’d get to developing emotional attachments would be his relationship with genesis and angeal (and maybe zack).

❥ it’ll take a while for sephiroth to fully trust and put his faith in you, but he’s actually very mature about romance. he doesn’t get very jealous and he’s very confident in your relationship and bond, if you read up on my jealousy hc’s i explain more there!!

❥ and when he really trusts you.. he’ll even let you perform his hair care routine on him when he’s too tired to do it himself. as you’ve seen, his hair is absolutely gorgeous and while he spends like an hour in the shower on just his hair— he spends more time when he’s out the shower as well with all the after product 😭.

❥ he enjoys having you brush his hair in the mornings and if you have long hair, he’ll return the favor. nothing’s better than sephiroth’s gentle hand cradling your head as he softly brushed through your strands, trying his hardest not to snag too hard on any tangles. if you’re comfortable with it, he’ll even hop in the shower with you and wash your hair for you. he’s not ashamed of nudity, he finds it a very normal and humanizing experience— knowing you can still be so vulnerable and not have it be sexual. he loves when you wash his hair for him too tho, it’s just super long so it’ll take a while lol.

❥ i cant see him as a morning person. i saw a post that he said, “sephiroths not a morning person, he’s a ‘im up because I have to be but if anyone talks to me, there will be murder’ person.” and i totally agree with that. you’ll wake him up, mentioning how he reminded you to wake up him bright and early tomorrow yet there you’d be, shaking his shoulder gently and he mutters a plea of five minutes more before pulling you closer.

❥ i definitely think that you guys would have to keep your love life private considering his job unless you’re like.. around angeal or maybe genesis. possibly zack, but you guys would have to make him promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone because he’d literally be so shocked. otherwise he’d go run to kunsel and brag about his knowledge or be so jaw dropped that he runs to angeal and is even more shocked when he already knows??? like, was he the only one who didn’t know about this whole thing??

❥ it’ll take a while for sephiroth to get comfortable with physical touch. although he secretly yearns for it, he’s also touch repulsed sometimes. it’s not that he’s appalled by you or your touch, it’s just that he’s gone so long without it that it’s foreign to him. once he gets used to it, he’ll eventually search for it and come looking for you in need of just some head massages or even just to rest his chin on your shoulder and view whatever you’re doing. he kinda does what cats do when they nuzzle the sides of their heads into your chest and like rub their noses into you.

❥ i’d like to think sephiroth’s very meticulous, so if you ever invite him in doing an activity such as baking or art or something, he WILL have to do it right or else he’ll get frustrated.

❥ as aforementioned, seph isn’t well versed in healthy love or adoration so if you even do a small task for him such as doing a chore he planned to do or cooking him pasta when he comes home— it will make him feel all gooey inside even if he won’t show it. he’s always calm and collected but, “even the coolest of people try their damndest to be alright,” as i mentioned in one of my headcanons for cloud lolol. he’s appreciative of even the small gestures, always making sure to thank you for your efforts as he knows they’re filled with love.

❥ for post nibelheim, though.. he’s lowkey manipulative. if you knew him before he found out about the jenova project, i’m assuming you’re only with him in hopes that he has some humanity within him that you can restore— well, that or you just like crazy men lol. he will definitely use that against you as a way of making you stay, always promising he’ll change after completing his plans with you by his side.

❥ if you met him post nibelheim though, he’ll be utterly fascinated with you as you’re basically his new toy. and he’ll follow you, regardless of when you met him. he’ll never let you leave his side after he’s gone crazy as he’s constantly reassuring you that his mothers legacy will be fulfilled, and that he can only do that when you’re beside him with support. it almost feels like it’s a shell of sephiroth. he never does any of the things he used to do before he was aware of who he really was, he’ll barely even let you touch him. he’s constantly on guard whenever you two are out, always keeping a hand around your waist or shoulder so that you don’t run off.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

NSFW BELOW ꨄ︎

❥ id like to think of pre-nibelheim sephiroth as a soft dom. always being gentle, even when you’re sucking him off so nicely that he can’t help but grip your hair— he always makes sure not to pull it too hard and instead bites on his hand until there’s marks. he’ll always cater to you too, treating you like a pillow prince(ss) and is literally at your beck and call. he will not tolerate brattiness though and will definitely punish you if needed!! he’s just so kind, it’s only fair that he reciprocates the same words you give him :(((

❥ i don’t think sephiroths that experienced, but i don’t think he’s a virgin either. he doesn’t have the time to pursue intimate relationships, but he’s definitely experimented with one or two of his fangirls or something. he sort of regrets it now, considering it wasn’t all that intimate.

❥ like i said, it’ll take a while for sephiroth to even get used to physical contact let alone initiate it, but once you guys do finally have sex, he is literally the sweetest. he’s probably a little rusty lol but he’s a very quick learner!! guide him and teach him how to make you feel good, it makes his chest swell with pride once he gets you making those cute little sounds :(((

❥ let me tell you this man is huge though. he’s around nine to ten inches in length and he’s a big girthier than average. he has like two prominent veins, one on the underside of his shaft and one on the left side. when he cums, it’s a pretty pearly translucent color and right before he blows it beads at the tip as he tries to hold it in.

❥ sephiroth would like to think that there’s a possibility that you two could have kids, although his duties and reputation (and future events..) kind of prevent that. so i think there’s a breeding kink in there somewhere, but if you’re not okay with it then he’s totally fine!! it might sting a little if you don’t want kids, but in the end its your body, your choice— and he will respect that!!

❥ if you’re a virgin, he’d like to make your experience worth while and makes it very clear to you that he’s beyond honored to have been your first. he’ll even place you on the softest satin pillows while he gently thrusts into you, interlacing fingers and slowly pinning them against your head while he watches for your expressions. if you get shy or look away, he’ll always let go of one of your hands to redirect your chin back to him with a soft, “look at me, darling.”

❥ he relishes in the soft sounds of your giggles, watching as you look over the display he set up for you with roses and a meticulously made bed for you, a trick he had learned from genesis once when sephiroth had been too worried of not being able to satiate your need for intimacy. seph would lift you gently, giving you a small kiss and carefully maneuvering his way to the sheets before ceremoniously laying you down beneath him. he savors these lax moments during sex, not just the serious ones.

❥ post nibelheim is a little iffy, he’s definitely more possessive and aggressive when he’s having sex. he’s also very condescending with his words, i can sense a dumbification kink somewhere..

❥ as i’ve said before, post nibelheim seph won’t let you out of his sight most of the time. so he’s so possessive that if he sees you talking to someone else in public, once you find your way back to him, you’ll have wished you never greeted them. he’ll mercilessly press your face against the mattress or table or whatever you guys are on, and talks about how silly it was for you to talk to someone so casually when you clearly knew he was watching.

❥ i don’t think he’d let you top him that much, maybe once in a blue moon would he let you act like you have control over him— but the moment you get too cocky, he’ll remind you of who really has the most control once he grips your hip dips and flips you over, catlike, vindictive mako eyes glinting in the shadows of his body.

❥ again, i’m sorry but it’s the truth, also a little manipulative. post nibelheim sephiroth would accuse you of talking to other men or wanting them to satisfy you instead. he’d grit his teeth and roll his hips even harder— claiming he’d just have to show you how much he’s ruined you for other people. they are but boys but he, he is a man. and he’ll make sure you know that by the time the day ends and the sun seeps through curtains.

❥ pre sephiroth makes love, post sephiroth fucks. there’s a huge difference.

[snapscube]

im not the pearl anon but also like . how far are u if you don't mind me asking ,

also !!! tbh i never rlly got past the 1st case of the second game ( the whole plot of that one weirded me out to where i just put it down , personal thing ) but i hope ur having fun with the games so far :]

im currently on AA investigations 1, im playing them in what i understand to be chronological order BARRING great ace attorney which i am going to save for the very end since they are the most recent releases. i actually think funnily enough this just about ends up being release order as well lol, maybe save for an exception here and there.

so it’s going/will go PW trilogy > AAI 1+2 > AJ trilogy > TGAA

although if im correct the layton crossover, while technically not canon, would otherwise go between investigations and apollo if it were. so i will likely do that as well before starting apollo.

also i would highly recommend giving the second game another shot! i totally get it, the intro case kinda sucks tbh. the rest of the trilogy is sooo much better i promise.

[silvermoon424]

Eternal Erina

Left by @chommission, right by @linyu3u

An anon innocently asked me to talk about my OC Erina's final form, Eternal Erina. Unfortunately, it's impossible to actually explain her deal without also explaining the story of my story/paracosm. Which is, uh, LONG AND COMPLICATED.

For anyone who doesn't want to read the massive incoming infodump, the main plot of my story/paracosm revolves around Erina and her journey from a frightened, troubled child into the savior of her people (mages, aka magical girls and magical boys). That involves becoming a goddess, a concept, and a universal force. So like Ultimate Madoka, basically. If the design didn’t tip you off, my story is HEAVILY inspired by PMMM, lol. 

The details are hidden under this Read More. If you end up reading it, I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts!!

Order and Chaos

So basically, magic and life (especially sapient life) is governed by the Rule of Cycles, a mostly benevolent being/law of nature. It is opposed by Chaos, who governs black/chaos magic but cannot create true life, only shadows of itself or People of the Cycle that have been corrupted. Chaos hates RoC because it's envious of RoC's creativity and ability to create life, not to mention that Chaos used to be a part of RoC at the beginning of the universe and wants to once again be one with everything. 

Mages have existed for billions of years, all across the universe. Where there is sapient life, there is magic. Mages are born when they resonate with the Rule of Cycles and are granted a wish/miracle. But if they fall into despair or fail to replenish their magic they will become Wraiths, beings of Chaos (again, like magical girls and Witches from PMMM).

Also, if you couldn't tell by the names, the Rule of Cycles and Chaos are basically Order vs Chaos personified. This is inspired by the Stars arc of Sailor Moon and the ultimate villain Chaos.

Also, RoC and Chaos can't fight directly without damaging the fabric of the universe and/or causing mass destruction, so they manipulate beings and create proxies to fight a proxy war. Erina, my main OC, is the RoC's chosen champion and can tap into it directly. Chaos doesn't have a champion (yet) and mostly just sends out powerful extensions of itself, although it does also have corrupted People of the Cycle at its beck and call.

Also, in my paracosm, the RoC was created by an even greater being that created the multiverse who's since basically fucked off and doesn't intervene at all. Soon after the creation of the universe, billions of years ago, Chaos split off from the RoC and they've opposed each other ever since.

The Philosophy of the Cycle and Unnecessary Suffering

However, even though the Rule of Cycles and Chaos are opposed, they are inextricably bound together. Just like as the darkness needs the light to create shadows, the light also needs the darkness to shine more brightly. 

In other words, without evil, we couldn’t truly comprehend good. Without sorrow in the world, there would be no compassion. If we never lost anything, we would never truly appreciate what we have. And so on. The Philosophy of the Cycle- the path that mages spend years walking- is making peace with the fact that sorrow/evil/suffering will not only always exist, but is in fact vital to the very foundation of the universe. 

With all that said, even though suffering and sorrow are inevitable, we must try to diminish it in any way we can. Making peace with the foundations of the universe does not mean totally accepting it the way it is and sitting by passively while bad things happen. Because not all suffering-or even most suffering, one could argue- is inevitable. A lot of suffering is due to unjust systems, systems that need to be torn down and replaced with something better. 

You know, unjust systems like the current mage system.

In my story, being a mage isn’t an immediate death sentence like in PMMM; many mages go on to live full adult lives. However, the death/corruption rate is still around 1/3 to 1/2 of all mages. So even if you don’t succumb to Chaos yourself, you are essentially guaranteed to know and love someone who will or already has.  

I haven’t sat down and figured out how the mage-Wraith system came about; all I know is that it wasn’t always there and is the result of  tampering. It’s been in place so long that there are only a scant few records talking about the before times, but there is evidence it didn’t always exist.

Also, Wraiths aren’t the only Chaos Beings around; mages also fight Demons. Unlike Wraiths, they are mere extensions and creations of Chaos and did not used to be sapient. There are enough Demons around to support the mage population’s need for purification, once again proving that Wraiths are unnecessary and cruel.  

 Some cycles need to be broken. Enter Daenerys.

The Oracle

Daenerys aka Dany (yes, named after that Daenerys!) comes from a noble family of oracles who once reigned as the monarchs of a country of mages before it was destroyed. Dany is the most talented far-seer ever born and, after seeing a vision of Erina as a goddess whose ascension broke the cycle that turns mages into monsters, has dedicated her life to ensuring that future becomes reality. Even the wish that turned her into a magical girl was in service of her goals: she wished to be the fount from which a true hero would be born.

(idk where else to put this, but another major plotline of my story is a government conspiracy. Countless children with psychic powers and/or the potential to become mages were kidnapped and raised in a top-secret research facility. Dany was one of the first victims of this program due to precognition being a very rare ability. Dany (not a mage yet) was deep in despair when she had her vision about Erina. It gave her a reason to live and keep going, which is why she’s so dedicated to Erina and her mission)

Twisting and weaving the threads of fate, Dany carefully manipulates things to ensure the future she saw. She does whatever she can to add onto Erina’s karma (which, like in PMMM, determines how powerful a mage is). Dany also became a mage years before Erina, so a lot of this happened when Erina was still completely ignorant of what fate had in store for her.

Erina’s Entrance

I truly cannot give as much background as I want on Erina herself because this is so fucking long already lol, but I’ll give the main points of her background:

Her mother died about a year after giving birth to her, and she was then raised by her grandmother until she was 5. After her grandmother suddenly died, she was put into the foster care system.

The main story starts when Erina is 12. I’m literally not even gonna try explaining all that goes on lol, but the important thing is that she comes under the care of a young man named Eric who becomes her adoptive father.

Again, due to reasons I won’t get into now, Erina was nearly driven to suicide due to despair (she has C-PTSD and was at a point where she thought the future was bleak). The love and care Eric showed her gave her hope and made her want to keep going, and she is left with the strong desire to inspire hope in others the way he did in her.

Flash forward a bit and Erina becomes a magical girl, using her wish to save Eric’s life in a dangerous situation. She immediately and wholeheartedly embraces her role as a magical girl, seeing it as a way to help others and inspire hope like she so dearly wants to.

Erina finds herself in a found family with fellow mages Luna, Rhae, Iris, and Flora (the other main OCs of my story). She also formally meets Dany and becomes close with her. She also becomes friends with lots of other people (including many mages) and has a lot of fun experiences.

Doppelgangers: The Other “Me”

It’s soon revealed that Erina’s magic has created a purifying barrier around the city she and her friends live in; instead of becoming Wraiths, mages who exhaust their magic will instead summon Doppelgangers (YES I LOVE MAGIA RECORD AND IT’S OBVIOUS). I’ll try to explain the Doppelgangers and their relationship to the overall lore:

Doppelgangers are actually symbiotic organisms from another dimension that attach onto the souls of sapient beings because they themselves lack souls as well as self-awareness and consciousnesses (although they do have intelligence).

Doppelgangers are normally benign, but they respond to their hosts' emotions and can turn into Wraiths if overcome with despair. Again, this did not always used to be the case. It’s implied that Erina’s magic is shielding the city from the effects of Chaos, and therefore Doppelgangers cannot be corrupted.

All People of the Cycle (intelligent life) have Doppelgangers, but only mages have the power to manifest them in our dimension.

Doppelgangers are also manifestations of the host's soul. As such, the host might be self-conscious of their Doppelgangers or outright reject it if they don't like what they see. In turn, the Doppelganger might keep trying to force its user to confront their own demons or flaws in an attempt to help them (basically, sometimes a Doppelganger can be a really intense therapy session lol). 

A Doppelganger is a reflection of its user, and accepting one's Doppel is an act of self-love and self-acceptance. Doppelgangers themselves LOVE their hosts and are unquestioningly loyal to them. However, more than the host’s words, the Doppelganger obeys their heart.

If the host rejects their Doppelganger, the Doppelganger will still come out in the automatic purification field. The mage just won't be able to control it. Outside of the city, they'll turn into a Wraith unless they come to terms with the Doppel and are able to summon it. 

Dany hopes to expand the purification barrier across the entire universe. She plans on doing this by having Erina resonate with the Rule of Cycles once again and be granted a second wish.

The vast majority of mages are only given one miracle. However, mages who have accumulated exceptional amounts of karma and are judged to be worthy are capable of being granted a second wish. This is why Dany has been working so hard to build up Erina’s karma. To help her with this goal, Dany creates a group called the Weavers of Fate.

Oh... It’s a Cult

Yep, the Weavers of Fate are pretty much a mage-based cult based on their belief in Dany’s visions and Erina’s future as a goddess. But can you blame them for latching onto hope when their fate is so dicey? Dozens (and later thousands) of mages work to assist Dany in her goals.

The Weavers of Fate embrace and revere Erina as their messiah, sometimes making her uncomfortable because she just wants to live a normal life with her loved ones. But as the story goes on, Erina becomes more and more convinced that she needs to embrace the role if it means saving her fellow mages.

Side note: at a certain point in the timeline, the existence of mages becomes public knowledge. There’s a lot of sociopolitical drama that I won’t get into here.

Dany’s Changing Priorities

A few years into the timeline (after a LOT of things happen that aren’t relevant to this writeup), Erina shockingly and unexpectedly dies in a climatic battle against Chaos. Dany is utterly devastated and, in her grief, resonates with the Rule of Cycles and makes a second wish (by this point, Dany has wracked up TONS of karma herself). She wishes for a chance to redo things, and is given the ability to go back in time. She can only go back in time at the static rate of a few months, but this gives her enough time to plan ahead for the climatic battle.

Well, long story short, Dany goes through several time loops, failing each one, and gets more and more traumatized each time. Yes, she’s literally Homura but better off in a few ways. Anyway, Dany learns that Erina’s ascension to godhood is not guaranteed; with the more karma she accumulates, she is more and more likely to become a Wraith. And not just any Wraith, a Wraith that could easily destroy the entire world (and later, even the galaxy).

After years of single-mindedly pursuing her goal, Dany decides that all she wants to do now is protect Erina and her other friends. She’s done with being a pawn for cosmic forces greater than her. She feels immense guilt for putting Erina on a pedestal and putting her through all this, as she now deeply loves and cherishes Erina as a friend... or maybe something more than a friend.

Except oops, she’s already done so much at this point that she’s completely screwed over the chances of them all having a normal life. With every reset, things just get worse. But she refuses to give up, continuing to hold out hope even in the face of overwhelming odds.

How It All Ends

Dany finally reveals everything to Erina, expressing her regret and asking for Erina’s forgiveness. Erina says there’s nothing to forgive, as she wouldn’t change the life she’s lived and the experiences she’s had for anything.

The climatic final battle begins. Wraiths from all over the world descend on the city where the story takes place, overriding the purification barrier and causing mass death and havoc. Erina is forced to sit it out due to the dangers of her dying or becoming a world-destroying Wraith, like Dany has seen happen so many times. A lot of the main characters die fighting, and Erina is left devastated.

Despite all that, Erina affirms her belief in hope and her desire to give it to mages- her people. The way she sees it, mages are being punished for believing in hope and wanting a better life, and that is unacceptable. She remembers a dear friend who became a Wraith, along with all of the other people she’s known and cared about who suffered the same fate.

She knows what she has to do.

She has an emotional conversation with Eric, her adoptive father, and thanks him for setting her down this road. Despite his pain and reluctance to let her go, he gives her his blessing. Erina says goodbye to her remaining friends and loved ones, thanking them for showing her how beautiful the world is. There are a lot of awful, terrible things in the world, but the good things it has to offer are enough to make it worth fighting for. Erina knows this better than anyone.

Resonating with the Rule of Cycles once more, Erina makes her second wish: To have the power to grant the promise of “tomorrow” to mages. She ascends to godhood, and the purification barrier becomes a universal law of nature (much like Ultimate Madoka). Unlike Madoka, however, everyone remembers Erina and knows about her sacrifice.

Time restructures itself, and because the Wraiths that killed everyone no longer exist, the people who died in the final battle are resurrected. Erina’s friends and family- ESPECIALLY Dany, who is absolutely guilt-ridden- deeply mourn her loss, but vow to keep protecting the world she loved and cared so much about.

🩷 The End 🩷

I Lied, There’s More

Okay, so that’s the ending of the main paracosm. However, there’s a sequel! I have not spent nearly as much time on this as the main story so a lot is very sketchy. I’m just gonna list out my main ideas:

A little while after the ending of the main story, an alien union/federation/whatever makes first contact with Earth; they were also saved by Erina's actions and want to return the favor by helping humanity out.

Stuff Happens but I don’t know exactly what yet lol. I do know there’s a lot of space battles because that’s just cool.

Erina eventually comes back into her physical form because Dany is in danger (I imagine it's a situation similar to Rebellion; I haven't hammered out the details yet though). There are also Chaos machinations, which could be catastrophic for the universe.

She manages to save Dany and also connects with Chaos itself, making it realize it needs to chill out. Like it can still be Chaos but not so extra.

Erina with her loved ones, also getting to meet the new characters. She is sad about needing to leave them again, but knows her duty is more important.

However, the Rule of Cycles is very grateful for all of Erina’s help; after all, she ended Wraiths and managed to get Chaos to calm down just a bit. The RoC asks Erina if she wants to live out the rest of her natural lifespan in the mortal world. She says yes, because there's nothing she wants to do more than live her life with her friends and family, in the world she loves so much.

I imagine the system her wish made is still in place because, like Madokami, she's both Erina the individual and Erina the force of nature. It’s not great to have Erina the individual missing, but since it’ll only be for a few decades the universe can cope.

In the ACTUAL, FINAL ending, Erina becomes a teacher for young mages. Erina, Dany, and Iris (a main character whose relationship with Erina is also a major theme) officially become a polycule. LOVE FUCKING WINS!

If you made it this far: THANK YOU FOR READING MY STORY, both the story itself and your interest mean more to me than anything!!! 🩷🩷🩷

[neosero]

Can I please request a part two to [01:15], were the reader ignores them afterward the fights/never death experience and when the characters try to talk to them the reader just ignores them and walks away and the characters feels a little guilty, I'm invested in what will happen next. Probably a lot of angst but maybe some fluff at the end

[ 12:30am ]

and yet, you still resist

collection | gods, the all powerful - #genshin

↳ [ 01:15pm ] and sometimes you have to remind yourself they're gods |

↳ pt. ii [ fontaine version ] |

↳ [ 12:30am ] and yet, you still resist |

wc | 5.3k total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; dark themes; kinda starts at a random moment of time sorry lol, stalking ( venti ); implied-kidnapping, forced-intamacy ( zhongli & neuvillette ); reader gets makeup put on them but still nothing specific to gender, also i do not know a thing about makeup lol ( neuvillette )

a/n | SORRY THIS TOOK FIVE MONTHS this one is for you anon! kinda forgot about the fluff but still i hope you like the follow up!! this is an extentsion of the linked fics above. though it isn't required it would be best to read that for a clear picture on the character dynamics

( extended author’s note at the end!!! )

THE ANEMO ARCHON Lord Barbatos | wc. 2k+

"So patchy, what's your story?"

The firewood tumbles in on itself within the pit. Ember sparks fly high, dancing between you and the other soldiers that crowd around the flame. It does little to combat the chilling air of Dragonspine, but it does provide enough of a haven for your group to forgo the mission to sit in idle company.

Chatter is loud amongst the knights and you would think this some caravan camping out over a reconnaissance party. You have a thought to hush the group as to not alert your targets, but with three days of just constant snow and no other signs of life you hold your tongue for their sanity.

“Hey! I asked you a question.”

The cold has been a lot better against your bandages than you had first thought. The old wounds from the incident haven’t completely healed, but the breeze feels like a gentle cold wrap around the warm ache of your body. Albeit not the best place for it, you feel more relaxed than you have for a while.

“Do you have a problem with me or something?!”

The once boisterous ensemble goes silent as all eyes turn to the quarrel. A soldier you don’t bother even trying to recognize has suddenly stepped up to your face. It's obvious he is new to the ranks; his armour is still freshly polished and not a dent in sight. You can catch the edgings of a family crest on the hilt of the sword he reaches for at his side.

A spoiled child of wealth. He'll probably last two more days before he turns back.

"Ignore him. Recruits are always ill-mannered to their seniors their first time out.” A man — Druig, the captain of your team — grabs the boy by the neck of his armour, dragging him back to his stool before he causes anymore of a scene. This brings back the laughter of the knights and the boy sits arms crossed with cheeks tinted pink.

"Though you could humor him." Druig boasts again, loud and obviously falling victim to the jug of wine in his hands. He offers you some carelessly, the liquid spilling over the rim and staining the pure snow red. You raise a hand in rejection and he happily takes another swig for himself. "Hell, all the lads could use a fine tale!"

Another cheer into the night. Druig has been determined to get you to open up since you took the commission. Although you can see the logic behind it — as your employer he deserves to know some part background — it never occurred to you as something that should be this importance. But with three days of begging and now several pairs of eyes awaiting the tale, there is really no escaping the memory.

You sigh deeply, already regretting the decision. You squat to the fire.

"It was the wind. Strongest I had ever seen."

The image is so clear in your head; the ache is still so painful in your bones that it's difficult to forget.

That fear is so easy to remember.

"An Eye of the Storm. The Eye of the Storm. An elemental lifeform so powerful it could be at level with an Archon. It raised the ground. It shook the trees bare. I didn't stand a chance."

Your voice falters as the face of Lord Barbatos flashes within the flames. His crazed smile reopens closed wounds and suddenly your skin feels itchy all over again.

The existence of Gods in the mortal realm hangs a heavy shadow over Teyvat. Stormterror's Rampage, the presumed death of the Geo Archon, the being that is Inazuma's Shogun; they are what mere humans cannot equal or challenge in any possible regard. And yet we still choose to worship the unknown.

"The Archons must have blessed you to survive that."

It's laughable really; how they can have so much faith in a being who spends most of their time drunk in a tavern while the rest of the world begs for their fortune.

"We live in a world where people can control the elements like magic and beasts can grow taller than trees- taller than mountains. My life is no blessing from a God and it never will be." You spit with a fire.

The impious statement shocks the soldiers still. With the Archon being held in such a religious light in Mondstadt, your behavior naturally rouses anger. The emotion slowly seeps through most of the men who no doubt have been within the Knights for sometime and upheld the Archon's image. It's obvious you've stained what little welcome you had within the group.

There is no reaction when you stand or when you begin to turn off into the cold of Dragonspine you wave over your shoulder, "I'll get more wood for the fire."

You walk past angry men unapologetically. The boy from earlier spits at your feet as you march by but it doesn't deter you in the slightest. Their beliefs aren't yours to taint in this moment and with direct orders from the Acting Grand Master you refrain from overstepping.

You travel far enough through the snow that the flames from the camp cannot be seen through the blizzard fog. With enough space to hear your own thoughts again, you can finally be at peace with the mountain. The snowflakes fall around you in clusters. Pinecones tumble from rustling trees with silent thuds into the layered snow. Small critters scurry around foraging for their next meals.

You breathe into your hands for warmth. While you are out you might forage yourself. There won't be much firewood to find in this area. The blizzard has dampened much of the fallen twigs and searching for dry wood is like looking for a needle within a haystack. Still you kneel to the floor to keep yourself busy and keep a clear head.

A boar's grunt catches your attention. Just over a shrub you can catch sight of the native beast's shaking fur. It's back is turned to you and it seems to be trying to scare something hidden in the bush ahead. Of course you cannot see anything noteworthy in the bush, yet you do not doubt the animal's senses.

Without warning it barrel's head first at the plant. You expected a few things: a rabbit, a weasel, a few clustered crystalflies, another boar even. With having taken a commission that was far from civilization — far from him — anything else should have been what came out of that bush. Instead it was a man.

He falls to the ground with a yelp, the weight of the boar's charge having kicked up snow in its wake. Your first instinct should have been to question the strange man's presence in such a place like this, but your apprentice training kicks in before you can think it through. You approach him to help.

He is covered in snow from head to toe, and when you bring him up most of it falls. You are about to tell him off, the whole knightly script just at the edge of your tongue as you rub off more snow. It was odd the way he stood beside you at an angle like he was trying to hide something. Just as you move to speak you do catch the edge of what he is hiding. You can’t forgot its shape even if you wanted to.

It was a lyre. Your fingers still at his sides. Slowly you look to the man’s face and those bright green eyes meet your gaze head on.

This was no man but a God. The Anemo Archon: Lord Barbatos.

You jump back hastily, nearly tripping over your own feet to get away. Venti brushes the remaining snow off his body with no urgency and stands upright like this was some casual meet. "Long time no see."

He takes a step forward and on reflex you draw your sword. He holds up his hands in surrender but you won't take any chance... not this time. Your whole body visibly shakes, your hands break out in cold sweats and breaths are labored. Why is he here? What possibly could have brought him to the one place you had been sure he wouldn't be?

"You look good." He speaks after a short silence and you scuff to the trees. "What the fuck are you doing here!"

It isn't a question, you demand an answer. You grip the sword with two hands to steady yourself.

"You haven't been home for a while so I got worried. I never got the chance to apologize to you and it feels like you're avoiding me." He pouts like some concerned friend. Your eyes constantly flicker from his own ones to the lyre at his side. How far could you get if you make a run for it? "And the guild said you were taking more out field commissions so I..."

"You what?" Venti doesn't answer quick enough, instead taking a cautious step forward which makes you move to widen the distance. "I've been... following your scent through the wind."

You feel gross all over, like you need to scrub the skin off your bones in order to erase whatever scent he is talking about. He's been tracking you... hunting you... stalking you by smell.

"How long?"

"I know how weird this may sound but-"

"How long have you been here!"

His hands drop to his sides and he casts his gaze to the distance, a habit you hate spikes up old memories. "Two days." He admits regrettably.

Oh god. He's been watching you from the start, maybe even before you reached the mountain.

"But I was just coming to apologize. I was waiting for the right time and you looked so happy that I jus-"

Your throat has run dry and the freezing temperatures aren't helping the situation at hand. Your voice cuts in sharp with what little courage you have left, "Listen — and I'll only say this once."

"I want nothing to do with you ever again. Okay! Go sniff out that Honorary Knight or something just... stay away from me."

His face contorts from one of deep sorrow to one of pain. Just like that day. It takes a few beats, a few moments of false hope that you broke him enough to make a run for it. He laughs to himself dimly and you feel your strength waning. Your hope is crushed with his next words.

"I think you should let the wind carry you a bit longer, unless you wish to fall into the storm once again."

The lyre shifts a deep crimson faster than you can blink and that weighted fear returns tenfold. The blizzard grows in ferocity. Various rocks, wood and helpless animals are picked up with the wind and flung out in various directions. You can barely keep your own footing now and he hasn't even begun his song.

His hands raise, ready to start his torture. All you can think of is the end. Preparing yourself for those wretched noises. But all you hear is... silence.

"What the hell happened to you?" You nearly jump out of your skin. Druig comes from behind a tree, puzzled.

You turn to where Barbatos stood only moments ago but only see a tuft of falling snow gliding in the air. Your eyes shift frantically throughout the open space from the tops of trees to the distant expanse of the now tame snowy night. There is no blood on the snow, no signs of a storm, not even the outline of footprints.

Nothing.

"I saw... it was... uhm... " Your heavy breathing cuts your sentence short and you know you must look crazy to the captain. He was here. He was right here and yet. You're still shaken, the thump of your heartbeat not only in your muscles but also your fingers and your head. What just happened?

Druig stands waiting for some sort of answer and you blurt your first thought. "It was a boar."

"Well, it must have been some boar, huh?" He doesn't question your lie and you bet it on the wine. You nod to him trying your best to look as calm as possible. "Anyway, we'll be going deeper into the mountain. I'd... understand if you didn't want to continue."

"No! I'll stay, I have to see this through." You admit to get your mind on track. The man laughs heartily with a smack to your shoulder. The pain is searing but it grounds you to the moment. Druig leads you back to camp. He does most of the talking, while you try to calm yourself down unsuccessfully. Barbatos had followed you here, has been following you and probably still is. You're all too aware of every little rustle in the wind, every possible shake and stir in the air. This obsession will be your undoing.

The faint strum of a lyre follows your every step. Whether it's the tune of a bard's promise or an Archon's wraith sends a chill over your entire body.

THE GEO ARCHON Rex Lapis | wc. 1.2k+

For three thousand years you’ve been at the side of the Geo Archon Rex Lapis following the events of the Archon War. 

For the first thousand years you thought you could fight him. After having dragged you back from the rubble of your home, he chained you to the foot of his throne. You thrashed, clawed, screamed and bled to get free. Any food offered you tossed, whenever he’d try to touch you you’d bear your teeth like an animal, and every single day you pulled at that chain. But days turned to month and month to years and years drained you until you couldn't fight anymore.

He breaks the chains when you got too weak run from his touch. Morax fed you by hand, held your chin to make you chew, he kept you close at all times and when you pushed he’d pull back harder. He nursed you till your strength returned and even when you got strong enough to run he never let you get far. He’d make the earth swallow you whole and spit you right back at his side where he made you think you belong. 

For the next thousand years you had thought you could beg. Time brought upon something you never saw coming for the Geo Archon: change. When you met some four thousand years ago, he was ruthless. He massacred thousands and leveled the earth whenever he saw it fit, but he was different then. He had begun to changed.

His touch is gentle, his tone less demanding and his stare was more human. With as long as he had lived and seeing as so many of his treasured friends die, the reality of being the strongest — of being immortal — has finally set in. You had thought this change would help free you but your pleas were always met with this same look of sadness. Morax would tell you every single time, almost apologetic: you cannot leave.

You didn’t believe him, you never did and still don’t. It's only on the night you decided to run that you understand his sadness. You make it to the bridge of the Harbor, the one thing that you separated you from the rest of the world. The yaksha, the only one still living, didn’t chase you. The earth did not move to block your path. Freedom is so close. You ran across the bridge under the belief it would be all over like waking from a bad dream.

You should've known better. As soon as your foot crossed the end you were forced back. The pulse of it stunned you and almost left you winded when you fell to the floor. You were sure you weren’t followed. When you stood with a lot more cautiously, nothing seems out of the ordinary until you caught sight of it in the moonlight.

It was a barrier. Morax’s contract to you. A barricade that surrounded the entire Harbor to keep the all evil out, and you in.

You ran around the whole port, and that barrier was there to meet you head on. You even tried your luck out at sea, you had swam for the distant boat but all there was to greet you was bars to your prison. When you seam back to shore soggy and exhausted, Morax was there to greet you. He looked down at you with sad eyes and all you can hear were those words. 

You cannot leave. You screamed and cursed his name till your voice broke that night.

And now, three thousand years later, you're left here.

“Please leave it all to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and we’ll see to their gentle passing.”

You bow to the grieving family as they make their way to the exit. Your movements are robotic; you bend deeper than you should and smile too cheerful for having just discussed the ceremonial process of their approaching burial. Playing human hasn't come easy for you…

“You’ve improved.”

…And neither has your hatred for the archon who imprisoned you. Well archon no more.

Morax has died, now replaced by this… Zhongli. His renounce of his divine position was a long time coming, you had seen it first hand. He lives his days posing as a mortal, the god that captured you is gone but you still cannot forgive him. You will not forget what he did to you.

You ignore what he said and move past him to the Director. You offer her your goodbyes and leave the building without sparing him a glance. His gaze follows you with that sadness he's always had. It's been decades since you found out about the barrier and ever since then he’s missed the sound of your voice. He couldn’t care what you said; you could promise to kill him or even expose his truth but all he would care for is the fact that you addressed him.

You walk for a long while. You go through the plaza, by the markets and down past the docks. You stop at a shoreline just off the docks — it's the farthest place you can go from the Harbor that grants you that little sense of freedom. You go there most nights to watch the sun set. Most nights you're alone, left to bask in your own thoughts of the past and what would have been. Some nights, like tonight, Zhongli joins you just before the sun has completely gone. He doesn’t speak to you because he knows you won’t answer. He just stands right by your side until you’ve had your fill and left for home. Tonight is different though, because this time he speaks and you aren’t prepared for it.

“My dear gemstone… I’m sorry for what I’ve done.”

In the distant past you aren’t sure what those words would have done to you. You would have probably gone insane, trapped in the thought of how someone can feel sorry and still do the things they did. A part of you thinks you would have killed him. Your powers still work although not as strong as they used to be without a human’s faith. You could have made a crystal from your tears so sharp it would have ended it all for you. You wouldn’t have succeeded but you would have kept fighting. You should have kept fighting.

Now three thousand years later, with the spirit of the god who caged you long gone, you aren’t sure what to do.

Oh. Your body thinks it best to cry. 

Your shoulders shake with sobs. Your tears flow down your face in rivers of silver and break off into fragile droplets of diamonds. 

Zhongli brings his hand up slowly, placing it gently on your shoulder opposite to him. He is still for a long moment waiting for you to break away from him. You don’t; you’ve lost your will to fight. It’s slow and careful the way he pulls you into his chest, like you’ll shatter the moment he envelops you completely. He holds you close while your soft cries mix in with the sounds of the waves draping the sand…

… and for the first time in a long time, you don’t try to leave his side.

THE HYDRO SOVEREIGN Nuevillette | wc. 2.1k+

"That one doesn't match the theme at all."

"How would you know you haven't even seen the flyer!"

"The flyers are everywhere. I can't miss them even if I wanted to!"

The three Melusine continue to argue amongst themselves over which eyeshadow to throw onto your face next. You have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from yelling to the archons above. This gala cannot be so important that it would warrant a criminal to attend dressed to the nines instead of behind bars.

Eight years. Eight long years since you've moved to the proclaimed nation of Justice, and seven of those years have been spent as a registered criminal under the watchful gaze of the judge who enforced your sentence: Neuvillette.

Being forced to live every moment with that man has become your hell. He insists that you accompany him on his every whim. Your there for his important office meeting, his court cases, his unusual habit of water tasting by the pier and his evening routine dinners at restaurants.

It is all done with you right by his side like a lap dog…and it's humiliating.

This isn't the relationship that should be shared between law enforcement and a criminal, but it seems you are the only person in all of Fontaine to give a damn.

The public sees your relationship as they do everything else here: entertainment.

The Judge and His Criminal: A Match Made at Trial.

News articles and tabloids headline with the two of you every other week. Each one just so happens to catch you both in some sort of intimate spotlight that couldn't be any farther from the truth, but it isn't like Neuvillette fights against them. Various citizens have sent you handwritten letters questioning about your relationship, paparazzi tackle you with questions and request for personal interviews as if you're some celebrity, he even has your parents under the impression that the rumors are true.

Your hands clench at your sides with the thought, dull nails digging into the inside of your palms. God how you wish it would end.

The chatter between the Melusines comes to a halt as the double doors are opened. You had thought it was a blessing sent from above, but the clatter of heeled boots makes you go stiff.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" The Melusine cheer, happy to see him as they scurry over to his side excitedly. You remain in your seat. They talk up to him, the bickering you had thought reached its vote returning with a vengeance. They each still insist on different colors for you to wear like it is life or death. The closed eye smile he offers in return shows he finds their little disagreement more amusing than as serious as they do themselves. He listens to every opinion nonetheless, taking in everything they all have to say with interest.

Then his eyes shift over to you.

"Don't worry. I'll take over."

You scoff, uncaring that everyone else in the room can hear you. The Melusine look to you and then back to Nuevillette who continues to smile down at them as if nothing is wrong. They nod to him one by one, then they wave to you goodbye before skipping out of the doors to leave you both alone in silence. You pick up the tea cup at your side, watching the liquid swirl around in the fine glass.

"The Melusine tell me you are not well. Might I know what troubles you?"

Neuvillette takes the seat in front of you once the room is clear and the doors shut, speaking to you with his normal neutral tone. He removes the tea from your hands just as you go to drink it, placing the cup back on the table. He continues where they have left off, grasping the brushes delicately as he brings them close to your eyes. It's soft the way he applies the eyeshadows, treating the brushes as if they aren't the finest material imported from Inazuma and would harm you if he applied too much pressure.

You don't bother to answer him, opting to look past him at the open window. Your silence doesn't bother him as much as it once did. You've long since given up your begging to be set free and now have chosen to go non-verbal in his presence after the first few years of your...parol.

He picks up a thinner pen once he believes he's done with shadow. Its an eyeliner pen.

"Don't move."

He prompts not that you have moved a muscle in this seat for the last thirty minutes, reluctantly sitting in wait for his arrival. Like an obedient dog.

One hand holds your chin tenderly, the other just barely touching the space above your eye. The Melusine had spent a great amount of time perfecting your look for this event and it would be a shame for him to ruin it.

You clearly do not share that same concern.

Just as he presses a bit harder into your skin to draw a line you jerk away. He is startled of course and draws the pen back but the damage is already done — a crooked line of black smeared from your eyebrow across your forehead. It isn't as bad as it may seem, just a quick makeup wipe away really but still Neuvillette looks dejected with the mess.

A smirk graces your lips at his expression. You might look like a fool from what you can see from the mirrors but you couldn't care less in this moment. "Shall we go."

You speak to yourself and rise in a new found spirit. You grab your coat from behind your chair and catch the sight of clouds outside the window in the corner of your eye. You expected the storm clouds, maybe even a tickle of rain - never did you expect the rumble of thunder.

Before you get the chance to pass Neuvillette, he grasps your forearm. The tenderness in his touch long since drowned, and for once you wince in his hold.

"A shame."

It's unexpected, his sudden turn. You're launched back into your seat, the force tipping over the desk beside you and pain running through your shoulders. There is a protest on your tongue, your first thought to tell him off if it wasn't for the dark glow in his eyes.

"I had thought you would grow complacent as time went on. But I've grown tired of your tantrums and this will be the last." The dragon speaks.

He is back on you in a quick second. Neuvillette's hand envelopes your mouth forcing your gaze to the side in a harsh grip. You cannot move, he crowds around you in the seat and shoves you deeper into the cushion. Your hands grip his own, trying to pry him off to no avail. He has you at his mercy yet again.

With your head turned directly into the mirrors at the vanity you watch in horror at what he does. He brings his other gloved hand to his lips, tongue darting out to wet the material with spit. He then brings the finger to your face starting to wipe away your mess.

You attempt to inch away, fighting with all your might to dodge his touch but that only causes him to push you further into the seat. The pain in your shoulders spikes again but his hand prevents your scream. Your hands thrash out determined to keep fighting as long as you can, but you can only do so much against the might of a dragon recently empowered.

Your spasmodic fighting is loud; you knock over another table spilling your tea cup, you swipe the makeup palettes onto the ground in a vocal clatter, something else falls you can't see and it shatters. You want someone to hear now, to burst through those doors and see just what a monster their highly praised Judge really is.

As the wrestling gets more aggressive, you know the people outside the office find it harder to ignore. Some turn their heads after hearing the various items hit the floor, but that is all. You want to have hope that they would hear your distress and come to your aid. Although, deep in your heart you know it won't ever happen. For what is your daily torment is their newest line of gossip.

The ones who look to the doors grow hot and red at the sudden sinful thoughts that flash through their heads. Others play at continuing their original tasks, a faint gossip starting through the masses as they openly say what they think is happening behind office doors. The last few of them actually do keep their noses deep within their files, acting as if this was a normal everyday thing as it has come to be.

When you finally burst open the double doors, they all go back to work hurriedly. Anger seethes from your being as you look throughout the office. Books are raised to cover faces, backs turn away to continue meaningless conversation, various fingers start toying with clothes to pick at lent. They don't care about you, and the quiet snickers of those few workers who don't care about being discreet stir up a sour feeling in you.

You hold back on lashing out at them, it would do nothing but make you look crazier than they already suspect. Instead you straighten your back and make haste to the doors.

As soon as you leave the building that suffocating weight is off your shoulders. The sky has cleared off with only faint remains of clouds. You take a deep breath of the fresh air, to calm yourself. Years upon years of being caged and you're finally free to think alone...wait.

You are alone.

Alone as you can be standing outside, but still alone. The gardes have not noticed you, and the streets are mostly barren thanks to the gala. You can escape. If you run now and hide off outside of the city they won't be able to find you in time. It's a chance chance to take, but you can't care now as your legs carry on their accord. Freedom is right in arms reach and won't miss the chance to take it...but nothing is ever that easy.

A man blocks your path before you can take another step. He is clad in a run of the mill tux, all black. His tie is strung out haphazardly and with the man's sleeves rolled up you can catch sight of the various bandages around both his arms and hands. A disheartened sigh leaves your lips.

Wriothesley scoffs himself, "what you aren't happy to see me?"

In truth, no. Trying to escape now would be asking for a greater punishment. No one can escape the wrath of the Duke and with his close relationship with Neuvillette it isn't worth asking for a cover up either. You put on your best smile, hands raising up his chest to fix the tie around his neck. "Just wish the day would go by faster."

His eyes never leave your own, even when your hands leave his body. The tie is perfectly in place now, though you both know he'll have taken it off by the time you get to the venue.

"You look good." He says suddenly and you pause. The compliment is genuine, the clothes you wear are personally tailored for you and fit snug yet freely enough for you to move without constraint. Wriothesley thinks the color suits you well and the details are a great addition from Liyue. You smile at him again, this one a lot more genuine and he can definitely tell with the way your face wrinkles.

You want to thank him, should have thanked him. But the sound of heels catches your attention over all else and the words crawl right back down your throat. "Shall we go." Neuvillette's hand clamps around your wrist like a handcuff, voice curt. It has been a while since the Duke has seen the man this displeased or you this upset. Wriothesley looks down at the Iudex's gloved hands. He can catch sight of teeth marks in the leather material and a bit of smudged powder along the print of his thumb.

"Is everything alright? I’d hate to get between-"

"Everything is as it should be." Neuvillette interrupts quickly, stare stone cold.

Wriothesley makes no comment against it, at least not here anyway.

All he does is nod, leading you all to the awaiting personal chariot. Neuvillette moves his arm, firmly locking your forearm on his own. You thrash a bit, although it takes one pinch to your skin to stop you from causing another scene.

To the public, you are living the life of royalty. But you know nothing has changed, you remain a prisoner chained to Nuevillette... and he isn't afraid to pull back on the leash when you show signs of bearing your teeth.

pre-note | got completely swamped with college work and now summer work is completely beating my ass ( currently neglecting it as i finish this ) so deepest apologies for the late response!!!!!

extended a/n | my first ever anon i feel so famous now! had a blast revisiting this idea and building more into their personalities, thanks so much for the ask!! i sadly had to exclude a few characters from this :/ they wouldn’t have fit this particular scene as they wouldn't tolerate behavior like this in as healthy of a way as the ones above i hope that’s okay! also ik you asked for a bit of fluff and the only one who really got that was zhongli — only because out of all the characters he is the only one i can see changing from his old way of handling the reader if that makes sense!! if you have anymore thought do not be afraid to send an ask ( promise to complete them in a more timely manner next time around T-T )

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 1

Summary: An encounter with a cashier leaves Jungkook ready to cause a scene Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 1K~ Warning: Explicit and suggestive language. Jungkook threatens to kill someone but like not really lol that's pretty much it a/n: This was an ask I got but both the anon and I'm sure a bunch of you love seeing jealous Jungkook so here's a short chapter of something that happened after they started dating 🤭 p.s. written in one sitting and barely edited Start from the beginning

"Can you wait in line for a second Darling? I forgot I needed to get one more thing" Jungkook asks me and I nod my head, humming as he places a kiss on my temple and rushes off to another part of the store.

While I wait mindlessly in line I end up getting lost in the different covers of magazines that are displayed around me in line. Leaving me obvious as to the fact that the cashiers have been switched out. Now having changed from a older man to one who's closer to my age that has been shamelessly checking me out since he laid his eyes on me.

Once I get closer to the front of the line I start to get a little antsy, seeing as Jungkook hasn't come back yet and I had forgotten my purse in the car. Lucky for me though there's no one else behind me in line so I won't have to worry about holding someone up.

"Did you find everything alright miss?" the man asks, having his eyes tracing up and down my figure after he finished helping the customer before me.

"Oh um, yes I did thanks. I'm just waiting for my boyfriend to come back" I point out, quickly seeing the look in his eyes.

I turn around and get on my tippy toes as if that would aide me in finding him faster but I can't seem to spot him anywhere.

I turn back around to face the cashier and notice that he's started to scan each item slower and slower and I'm not sure if it's his plan to keep me here longer or to prevent an awkward lull in the process.

Once he's scanned the last item and is ready to accept payment I look back at him and awkwardly laugh and he gives me a crooked smile in return.

"So about this boyfriend of yours, are things pretty serious? Because if you were mine I would never do something like this to you. Always make sure to keep you close and comfortable" he says, dropping his voice an octave, clearly trying his hand at seducing me.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself" I say and pull out my phone to pay instead, deciding that I'll just have Jungkook pay for whatever else he went to look for separately.

Once the cashier cues the system up for me to pay I feel a hand on my waist and relax, knowing exactly who it is.

"Add this one too" Jungkook says, coming back with my favorite ice cream that we had ran out of a few days ago.

The cashier clears his throat and cancels the payment, quickly adding on said item to the total before cueing up the system again and Jungkook places his card on the reader to pay.

"I thought I'd lost you" I say, laughing awkwardly while the cashier packs up our groceries. "I told you I'd be back. I just couldn't find it because you like the most random flavors that are placed in the weirdest of sections" he teases, placing a quick kiss on my lips.

He glares back up at the cashier who is nervously watching our exchange and audibly gulps once Jungkook cocks a brow at him.

"Next time, take a second before you start thinking with your dick alright?" Jungkook growls out, clearly holding himself back but needing to say something regardless.

"Yes sir" is the only response the cashier gives him, bowing his head as a means of apology but it still doesn't sit right with Jungkook leaving me having to physically usher him out of the store.

"Are you okay?" he asks once we're at his car, loading up the groceries after he's taken a second to calm down.

"I'm fine, although I'm glad that you came when you did. I was beginning to think he was going to try to ask me for my number or something" I say and I watch as Jungkook tongues his cheek, knowing that I probably should've kept some of this interaction to myself.

"Did you tell him you have a boyfriend?" he asks, placing the last bags in the trunk and shutting it a tiny bit harder than he usually would.

"Yeah but he didn't seem to care, asked if we were really that serious" I say, digging his grave deeper and deeper.

"I'm gonna kill him" he growls, making moves to head back inside and I run after him not being able to keep up with his long strides any other way and yank on his arm.

"No come on, let's just go. I'm perfectly fine alright. Let's just go home. Please?" I ask, making sure to add a little more pout than I usually would. A tactic that I hope will work to get him to calm down and forget about it.

He takes a deep breath and nods his head, letting me lead him back to the car and he opens the door for me but before I get in he put a hand on my waist and leaves me frozen in place.

"When we get home I'm gonna show you just how serious I am about you. Okay Bunny?" he asks, posed as more of a threat than anything else leaving me shivering, thinking about what I've gotten myself into.

I let out a choked back 'okay' before he slaps my ass and tells me to get in the car leaving me already clenching, dying to know what he's going to do to me

When he sits in the drivers side beside me he starts the car and places a hand on the back of my seat looking out the back window to help him back out before switching gears back into drive.

He immediately places his hand on my thigh, sliding it up my skirt and starts tracing patterns on the inside of my thigh, driving me absolutely insane from just these simple touches.

I'm fucked.

Hopelessly, painfully, deliciously fucked and I can't help but count the minutes until we get home.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie

[halsteadlover]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: yes by anon.

• Summary: Connor shows his possessive and jealous side and you love every bit of it.

• Warnings: jealousy, few curse words and I don’t know what else, please let me know if I missed any lol.

• Word count: 1930.

• A/N: I’m not sure about this one but here it is anyway since I was too lazy to write it all over again 😭 I hope you’ll like it, looking forward for your opinion. Comment, like and reblog, it’d would mean the world 💕 I love you all xx

Connor's first case since coming back to Med’s was fairly simple.

He thought that day would go uneventful. He thought.

An elementary school girl was taken to the ER after her teacher called 911 because of an intense abdominal pain and after an ultrasound it turned out to be a case of acute appendicitis.

“She’ll need surgery, where are the parents? We need their consent,” Connor had asked Natalie while they examined the little patient who was still writhing in pain. She was given a small dose of morphine to calm some of her excruciating pain.

At that same moment Maggie entered the room and Connor glanced at her as he tried to calm the little girl, whose name turned out to be Daisy. “Her teacher is here and asked about a doctor.”

“I'll talk to her,” Connor said and Natalie nodded.

Connor and Maggie exited the patient's room and his gaze fell on a figure near the nurses' station who was filling out some forms.

He tried to keep an expression as serious and impassive as possible even though internally a flock of butterflies had just exploded in his stomach.

There was no need to even take a double take, he would’ve recognized that figure even in a crowd of thousands of people. After all, how could he not recognize his own girlfriend?

You were a teacher and taught science in an elementary school but what were the chances that you would’ve been the little girl’s teacher?

You and Connor had been together for about few months them so none of his colleagues knew you existed yet. He had to act like he didn’t know you, like he didn’t want to breathtakingly kiss you right then and there.

He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over your body suppressing the innate desire to approach you and grab your ass like he always did.

He approached the nurses' station, hands shoved in his uniform pocket. “Ma’am.”

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard not a voice but his voice. You immediately tried to suppress the smile that threatened to appear on your face as well as the urge to giggle since he knew how much it annoyed you when he’d call you ‘ma’am’.

“It’s ‘miss’, actually.”

You said when you turned to him, pen still in your fingers as you gave him a polite smile and chuckling to yourself when you saw Connor press his lips together in an attempt not to burst out laughing.

“Nice to meet you miss, I’m doctor Rhodes. I’m treating Daisy.”

Your eyes quickly scanned his body, trying to maintain composure and not blush like a fourteen year old when thoughts about you and him in his bed that morning crept into your mind.

“How is she, doctor?” You asked, failing miserably at not giving him a little mischievou smile.

“Unfortunately I cannot discuss my patient's health status with people outside of her family. I wanted to ask you if you have by any chance notified her parents? We need to talk to them,” he replied in a professional tone although the way his eyes shone as they spoke to you and the way he couldn't help but check you out gave him away.

Maggie and April, who were there at the time and witnessing your conversation, couldn't help but exchange a knowing look.

They had both thought the exact same thing.

There was no way you and Connor didn't know each other.

It was so obvious and even funny how you both tried to maintain a professional and unemotional facade. But the way he looked at you, the way his eyes had never left yours, the way his body was totally turned towards you and in which he seemed to be imperceptibly drawn continuously towards yours had revealed there was no way in hell that he didn't know you.

But it was also how your head was tilted slightly as you spoke to him, how you kept touching your hair, how you batted your eyelashes and the shadow of a smile that never left your lips that had given definitive confirmation that you two knew each other very well.

And not talking about the fact you two were blatantly flirting.

“I came here in a hurry so I didn't have time to call them, but I'll do it right away,” you had said and Connor had nodded, trying to keep himself from following you with his eyes as you walked away to make the call but failing miserably.

“Connor oh my god! What was that?!” April screamed/whispered, approaching Connor with Maggie, a look of pure surprise and amazement on both their faces. “You know her?!”.

Connor shrugged nonchalantly. “N-no of course not.”

“Oh come on we saw the way you looked at each other, you clearly know her and there is definitely something going on!” Maggie retorted.

“She's just a good looking woman, that's all,” Connor remarked even if ‘good looking’ didn’t even come close to how gorgeous you were.

All his attention though had shifted from Maggie and April for a moment, his eyes falling on the two doctors that were talking as they looked through some patients' medical records.

He saw the direction of their gaze, hearing the comments about the object – or rather the person – that had attracted their attention.

“Man if she was a stripper I would’ve spent my whole salary on her, did you see that ass?”. One of them had confessed to one of them while he was pretending to fill out the medical records even though he was watching you like a hawk while you were talking on the phone.

“I would’ve never skipped a class if I had a teacher as hot as her,” the other continued laughing.

“You think she has someone?”.

“Oh I hope not, but if it is he is a damn lucky bastard.”

Connor clenched his hands into two fists, almost having a brain aneurysm.

A wave of jealousy washed over him, every cell of his body exploding with anger at hearing the words directed towards you who unawarely continued to talk on the phone.

His jaw clenched as he struggled to stay calm, but God how much he wanted to beat the shit out of those two sons of bitches. He hated the way they looked at you, the way they made those disgusting comments about your body.

He hated it so much because that was the way he looked at you.

He was the only one who could make those comments about you, the only one who could have those sinful thoughts about you, the only one who could touch and admire you.

Your ass, your legs, your smile, your laugh, that twinkle in your eyes when you looked at him, that body, all of this were his.

It was as if his mind had gone into blackout, as if all his reasoning, judgment and common sense had just flown away because now all he could do was imagine the bastards' heads banging against the wall over and over again.

Drastic? Perhaps. Excessive? Probably. But Connor didn't give a fuck.

And it was in fact at that precise moment that he did something he’d never have thought of doing for anyone.

“Daisy's parents are…-” you announced as you ended the call and walked back to the nurses' station but stopped on your tracks when Connor came towards you, and a confused expression appeared on your face.

Your eyes widened and you almost had a heart attack when he grabbed your face and crushed his lips on yours.

He didn't give a shit.

Neither that you both were keeping your relationship a secret anymore, nor that you were in the middle of the ER, nor that everyone at that moment had stopped to witness that scene.

He wasn’t thinking clearly and in that moment it was that part of him with which he had never come face to face before that controlled him, that primitive and caveman part he was hating so much.

Even though that gesture had taken you completely by surprise, your body reacted before your mind could even understand what was happening, so you kissed him back, feeling your breath stopping in your lungs. Your hands slid up his chest and fisted his uniform as he wrapped his arms around your hips, sliding his hands down to your ass.

He didn't care he’d receive an endless scolding for what he was doing, he didn't care about the voices that commented the scene, he didn't care that everyone saw his hands squeezing your ass.

He didn't care because he wanted them to see, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, that he was the only one who could kiss you, fuck you, squeeze that stripper ass, that loved you.

You broke away from the kiss before the situation could escalate, your heart pounding and your legs shaking like jelly. “Babe oh my god…-”.

“You’re mine, you know that right?” He whispered. “Only mine.” His hands moved up from your ass back to your face and his thumbs caressed your cheekbones before placing a small kiss on his lips. “And I love you.”

Woah hold on.

Did he fucking say ‘I love you’? In an ER?

Wait. Connor loves me?

You looked at him in shock but you didn't have time to process and figure out what the hell was going on because he grabbed your hand and led you back towards the nurses' station, where Maggie and April's jaws were now on the floor.

“Meet my girlfriend, Y/n,” he announced, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close as you were about to faint. Your heart was beating so fast you feared you’d need a defibrillator to revive you sooner or later.

You were so shocked you couldn’t elaborate a word, fuck you couldn’t even think about one.

Connor's eyes focused on the two doctors that had been talking about you until recently but who at that moment were looking around embarrassed.

“You wanted to know if she was taken? Yes, she is. I’m the lucky bastard who gets to have her and now let me hear one more thing about my girlfriend, I fucking dare you.”

You looked with confusion at your boyfriend, then at the doctors he was glaring at, and then back at him. You had no idea what he was talking about and you were so dazed and confused that your mind didn't know what to process first.

From the way Connor’s hand was gripping your hip, the way he held you so close to him, and the way he glared at the two doctors, you imagined it was somehow about you. And although the embarrassment of being the center of attention made you want to be swallowed by the floor, you couldn't help but feel… Flattered.

Was this the right word?

You didn’t know.

You couldn't even describe it, but that jealous, protective side of him lit a fire inside you that burned every single fucking cell of your body.

You knew Connor always had this protective instinct towards you but knowing he had ‘marked his territory’ so blatantly, just to stop whatever they were saying, made you giggle to yourself like a teenage girl.

It was so damn hot and sexy, more than you would’ve ever expected.

And instead of thinking about how out of place or inappropriate that gesture was, the only thing you could think about as you looked at Connor was how good he was going to get it that night.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @klovesreading, @firetruckstuckley

Connor Rhodes tag list: @rsquared31, @novabckly, @wnbweasley, @thebejeweledwatercat

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[sethsclearwater]

so i just saw your play fighting blurb with poly!readerxquilxembryxseth where they're giving embry shit for not catching reader before she falls and wanted to ask can you pretty pls do a blurb about that time reader went out with embry and broke her ankle and the other two boys find out?

lol ofc!! this is the blurb anon is referencing in case y'all haven't read it yet!

...

embry barely had a moment to process what you were doing before he heard the faint crack when you hit the ground of the parking lot outside of the local grocery store. it had only taken him a moment to get over to you and, from the look on your face and the sound, he knew you'd definitely just broken something in your ankle or foot thanks to the ice outside.

by the time he'd managed to get you back into the car and to the emergency room, you were a total mess. although he'd continued to reassure you that you were okay, you were quite literally sobbing over a combination of the pain and the concept of having to wear a boot for the foreseeable future.

your comment about the boot had definitely made him regret mentioning that he was pretty sure your ankle was broken but, if he was being completely honest, he was more concerned about dealing with your other two imprinter's.

so, nearly an hour later, you found yourself at the emergency room laid down on the hospital bed with a rather unfortunate looking boot on your ankle while you and embry waited for the discharge papers.

you were pretty quiet, just quietly sniffling which only had embry feeling worse about himself, "pretty thing," embry murmured, coming to sit on the edge of the hospital bed after the doctor left the room.

you sniffled again before looking up at him only to see him frowning, "you're okay, yea? promise it's not that bad," he reassured, sliding one hand over yours so he could gently squeeze your hand while the other ran up your side so he could cup your face in his hand.

"'m sorry," you murmured after a moment, more tears streaming down your cheeks when you saw the way his brown eyes softened at your words.

"'s not your fault pretty thing," embry reassured, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead for a few moments while the two of you sat in silence, "does it still hurt?" he asked after a moment, lifting his lips from your forehead to look down at you.

"not as much as it did," you whispered, but before embry could respond to you the door opened to reveal your other two imprinters, quil and seth who both looked rather freaked out.

seth was the first to move, quickly stepping over to the other side of the bed so he could sit down and take your other hand into his, "oh pretty girl," he cooed, offering you a soft smile that had you blushing as all three boys focused their attention on you, "embry said you hurt your ankle," he murmured after a moment and you nodded, sniffling as yet another round of tears came streaming down your cheeks.

seth sighed, looking over to quil who sat down next to embry on the bed so he could run his hand over your thigh, "they said it's broken," you murmured, leaning into embry's touch as his thumb gently brushed away the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"you broke your ankle?" quil repeated back to you and you gave him a small nod, anxiously looking over to embry who just pressed his lips to your forehead again.

"they're not mad at you pretty thing," embry reassured, "definitely mad at me though," he added, lips curling into a smile against your forehead when he heard you let out a quiet giggle at the concept of seth and quil getting mad at embry over your broken ankle.

before you could respond, the door opened again as the doctor stepped back in, "alright mrs. call it looks like you're all good to go," he started, failing to see the flabbergasted looks all 4 of you had on your faces as he looked through his clipboard, "just keep the boot on, take it easy, and you need to see your primary doctor in 2 weeks for a follow-up, okay?" he asked, setting his clipboard down to look over to you, also now wearing a shocked look on his face when he saw how all three boys were sitting on the bed with you.

you gave him a thumbs up which had him cracking a smile, seeming to help with the awkwardness in the room, "alright well you let me know if you need anything then, alright?" he asked and you nodded, gaze drifting over to embry who offered your hand a gentle squeeze.

the doctor handed embry the discharge papers before he was leaving the room. as soon as the door closed, seth and quil were whipping their heads around to glare at embry, "mrs. call, really?" quil asked and embry let out an exasperated sigh.

"i didn't say anything - she's the one that filled out the paperwork," he started but seth jumped in before he could continue to make his case.

"she has a broken ankle and you made her fill out the paperwork? why would you do that?" he asked with a laugh, him and quil clearly both not all that bothered by it but still clearly loving giving embry shit for it.

"i don't know her medical history-" embry started, the three of them continuing their bickering before you let out a dramatic sigh after a few moments.

quil gently squeezed your thigh, "you wanna go home?" he asked, offering you a goofy smile when you nodded.

"alright let's get you out of here then, yea?" he asked, all three boys getting up so they could help you into the wheelchair and get you out of there.

bonus: the boys finding out at the follow up visit that it was actually reader that put down 'mrs. call' as her preferred name and they're all flabbergasted that she was the one that did it and not embry

[chelleztjs18]

Love Language (W.M)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!CivilianReader (Avengers AU)

Summary: After Thanos, Wanda retires, along with a long term effect from all the missions she had and then she met you.

Warning: None, just some fluff. Mentions of hearing loss and sign languages.

A/n: Hello! It's me! I have a fluff now after the angsts I have posted. Thanks to my Curious George anon for the inspiring talk and ideas. Y'all can thank her too for motivating me to write and post a fic here today. lol. Welp, happy reading peeps!

Main Masterlist

Years of being Avengers was quite a lot for Wanda, not to mention losing Vision after Pietro. Mission after mission, countless fighting off the enemies felt like she was in an endless war without any possibility to end.

Fortunately, Wanda was wrong. After defeating Thanos, The Avengers are finally able to retire. Wanda is grateful that everybody including her are still alive, though it was hard for her in the beginning to get out the grief from Vision’s death. During all of the fighting she has been through as an Avengers, Wanda can’t escape the explosions or other loud sounds that happened.

It cost her an invisible permanent damage. Wanda has a progressive hearing loss. Her hearing is slowly deteriorating by time causing her to have to learn to read people’s lips in the beginning. With Natasha’s support, Wanda finally accepts her condition and learns sign language to be prepared for the day when she totally loses her hearing.

Then you come into her life.

To Wanda, meeting you at the grocery store near her house was the best thing ever to happen to her life. You brought back the colors in her life that she thought she had lost. You and Wanda have been together for almost a year. She loves you with all her heart. You are the life that she never thought that she would have ever again. Losing people that she loves has made her very skeptical in finding her happiness again but you have saved her.

You, you fell in love with her very hard. Heads over heels. To you, Wanda is perfect. No matter how much she tells you that she is not. You can’t blame her. You understand why she always tells you that she is not perfect because of her condition. Although right now she can still hear certain sounds but most of the time, Wanda can’t hear very well.

Wanda tries to stall as long as she can to not wear hearing aids. She doesn’t feel confident

about how it looks when she puts them on even though some of them don’t look that obvious and are pretty discreet. At this point, Tony has given up in trying to convince her to wear the one that he created special for her. She prefers to read people's lips than wear hearing aids.

Since the first time you both met and then officially dating, the communications have been easy. You always try to talk clearly and slowly and she focuses on reading your lips. Wanda sees how patient you are no matter how many times she asks you to repeat your words or when she doesn’t hear your soft spoken voice.

Wanda knows how hard it is to learn sign language so she always tells you that you don’t have to learn about it. She loves you so much that she told you she would wear hearing aids once she loses all her hearing to save you and your time from learning sign language.

With mutual understanding and how much both of you love each other, life has been very beautiful and happy. Both of you do a lot of things together. Her favorite is movie night together with a lot of snacks and drinks. Either watching new movies at the theater and sometimes at home or watching another rerun of her or your favorite sitcoms.

Wanda always tries to hold herself back not to ask you whenever she probably can’t hear or miss some words because she doesn’t want to bother you. Being the sweetest girlfriend you are, you always quickly pause the movie whenever you see her face looking confused because you know what is actually happening and then help her explain or ask her which part she misses.

Tonight, you just bought an older movie that Wanda has been wanting to watch with you. All snacks are ready on the table and you are waiting for Wanda to bring the drinks.

You have been munching your favorite chips while waiting for her.

“Okay, here’s your drink, my sweet.” Wanda hands you the drink. You take the drink and try to finish the chips in your mouth before you answer. “Yay! Thank you, princess.” You take a sip then put the drink down.

You have some more chips and try to finish the chips. Wanda notices that you chew in a rush.

"Baby?" She calls.

"Hm?" You tap her hands as a sign of your hum while busy chewing and turning your head to her.

"You know if you keep chewing like that you'll finish the chip before the movie even starts, right?" Wanda teases you with a question followed by a giggle.

"Well yeah, that was the point, love." You smile. Wanda squints her eyebrows a little as she tries harder to read your lips while you are chewing and talk at the same time.

"What? Why?" Wanda looks perplexed from your answer.

"Oh, I'm trying to finish them all before the movie starts because I don't want to be noisy with all the crunchy noise during the movie, so you can hear the movie better." You explained as you take more chips.

Wanda feels her heart melt instantly after hearing your reason, bubbles of joy fill her heart. Her smile shows up right away on her face.

Her hand grabs yours to stop you grabbing the chips. "Detka, that's very sweet of you. You don't have to do that, I still can hear it. Thank you very much for thinking that way."

"Are you sure? I thought you don't like crunchy food when you are watching a movie?" Now it's your turn being confused as you look at her.

Wanda laughs a little. "Well it's okay. I can still hear it. It's harder for me to hear it if I was the one that chew the crunchy snacks but thank you, y/n." She smiles once more and leans to you to give you a quick kiss on your cheek.

She snuggles up closer to you, wrapping her arms around you and looks at you with her sparkling green eyes, full of joy and thinking how lucky she is to have the thoughtful you in her life.

“What did I do to deserve you? Gosh, you are so adorable.” she says in a very loving, grateful tone.

You look at her with your blushing cheeks as usual, you don’t know how to react to her compliment for you because all you can do is smile and ask her back “What? What did I do?”

“Just being you, sweet and thoughtful to me.” she replies, followed by her giggle that always makes you want to laugh with her.

“Of course. You deserve everything.” You kiss her forehead and you hear her giggle more.

“Oh, the movie starts. Shall we watch it now?” you ask as soon as you notice the TV screen.

She nods with a smile.

_____

The first thirty minutes of the movie, both of you enjoy it together. The longer the movie passes, the more often you shift your position and it becomes too obvious for Wanda to notice.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You look at her with a nervous smile. “Yes, I am okay, love. Why?”

“Oh nothing. Your thoughts are pretty loud. I meant I don’t really know what you are thinking but I know for sure your mind is spinning right now. Like, you are nervous or worried about something.” Your Sokovian girlfriend explains her own conclusion from what she figures from your thoughts. Despite her power that can hear your thoughts, Wanda promises you that she will never invade the privacy of your mind. Being the overthinker you are, sometimes everything in your head can be pretty loud for her to at least feel them.

You are trying your best to not think too much so it won’t give Wanda a complete gift away on what you really have on plan.

You laugh, hoping that it will cover the truth. “Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” you asked apprehensively while you clear your throat. Bunch of thoughts bounce around in your head, memorizing things while preparing the right answer for any possible questions that Wanda might ask.

Seeing more obvious and a little unusual behaviors of yours, Wanda pauses the movie. Silence is all she wants right now so she can hear you just in case you are going to say something, but you don’t.

A concerned sigh went out of her lips. “Y/n, sweetheart. Look at me, please. Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

You turn your body facing her now with your face looking down a little. You mumble a little and your hand slightly moves in a certain way as if you are rehearsing something.

“Babe, I can’t hear you and I can’t read your lips either. What did you say?” A line of confusion appears between her eyebrows. Her eyes try to look at your lips to read them.

You take a deep breath and exhale it slowly. “Okay..” you mumble once more under your breath then get on one knee.

You hold her hands and look into her eyes. Comfortable silence fills the room. “Wanda, my love.” The beautiful brunette in front of you looks so surprised with what she sees, not from what she reads on your lips because you didn’t say anything but your hands movements say it all.

You continue doing sign language for everything that you are about to say to her.

“I’m so glad that a year ago you came for my help at work and asked me where the beddings aisle was, because you were the sweetest and cutest woman I’ve ever met. My heart skipped a bit and knew that you were the one for me right then right away. Having a life with you in this past year has been the best privilege I ever have. Loving you is so easy because you are perfect and flawless. I want to keep going, having life and loving you for the rest of my life. So, Wanda, will you marry me?” you slow down your hand movement when you reach the last sentence to show more emotions in it and right after that, you grab the opened little box with a ring in it.

Wanda looks at you in awe and can’t hold back her happy tears. Joy warms her heart. She is touched by your effort and surprise at learning sign language, let alone proposing to her with it.

“Of course! Yes! A thousand times yes!” Due to how speechless she is from the enormous amount of happiness, Wanda’s hand did the sign language for her answer. She then pulls you to hug you and kiss you.

Several quick gentle kisses land on your lips and cheeks. You pull yourself back a little to see her joyful beautiful face. Wanda’s hand gently rubs your cheek and goes to the top of your head, caressing your hair as soon as you two end up snuggling on the couch.. Both of you looked at each other with the look of so much love.

“When did you learn sign language?” She questioned you in a curious tone. “Uh, Tony and Natasha have been helping me with it at the compound, plus he created this app that can help me learn more by myself whenever I can.”

“Wait, so all these overtime at work the last few months? You actually went to the compound to learn your proposal lines?” Wanda giggles and her cheeks blush at the same time.

“Yes, I have been going to the compound and no, I didn’t learn only the proposal lines. I learned everything. I know sign language now, only for you but I’m not a pro yet, so please bear with me.” you answer after you give a few more soft kisses all over her that draws more giggles from her.

“Aww, that’s really sweet. Thank you, y/n. I’m so lucky to have you.” Wanda expresses her genuine feelings.

“I love you, Wanda.”

Those words are the most beautiful words she ever reads on your lips that will always swoon her off her feet, fall for you over and over again.

“I love you too, my sweet.

A/n: Welp, that's all for today from me. I hope you enjoyed this short fluff. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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[yawujin]

heyooo !!! I just wanted to req something if that's okay with you since I love ur fics they're so fun to read grahhh !!

So , could I maybe have a tenko and kokichi [ separate ] x reader who is cold and scary at first but is just truly a pure , confused, adorable cinnamon roll ? They're oblivious to the character's crush on them and are flirty in a way ? If you can do that !! Sorry if this is too much and it's okay if you can't do this !! 💗

Enjoy your day !! <3

sorry it took so long 🎀 hope you enjoy this despite that, anon!!

request | tenko & kokichi x reader

type | you/they pronouns used , looks can be deceiving trope , short read , cute

tenko chabashira ♡

she doesn't mind that you look intimidating, all she cares about is that you have adorable face

somehow she can sense that your looks don't match your personality though...

if they truly are mean though, she won't hesitate to throw hands yk

is thrilled to find out that her crush is a total softie and super cute

this newfound knowledge puts tenko at ease and she talks to them wayyyy more often now (even though she can get clingy at times)

kokichi ouma ♡

their looks don't ward him off at all! instead, it makes him want to annoy them more

you can find him always inserting himself into your conversations with others

he doesn't see the other, much nicer side to them until they *politely* ask him to mind his own business 🤥

he makes an effort (although slight) to change his attitude so they can see him in a better and less nosey light (lol)

[cinnamonest]

Lena thank you for the spanking bit, has to be one of fav kinks ever because it just... fits every single yan regardless of who they are??? Kinda like a "universal" thing, just top notch. Do you think we could ever get headcanons for it?

Thank you for this anon, you're absolutely correct it is a top-tier kink

Also I've been wanting to write more about god-era Morax so thank you for the opportunity to do so, I rambled way more about him than the others here sorry lol

As for those who fit the kink best imo I’m going with Childe, Diluc, Ayato and Morax

//major spanking kink material (obviously) but gets kinda bad in severity/intensity, also mentions of hair-pulling, biting, throat fucking, anal, two cocks for Morax again (as always 👌)

--------

Childe is probably the best one here to end up at the mercy of here for once, for the sake of your poor ass at least.

Not that it isn't still awful and painful — he’s a sadist at heart and just adores making you squeal and cry. What at least makes it comparatively at least bearable is that he tends to use his hand — although that does make it more personable, more humiliating.

He tells you, though, exactly what he intends to do. You're being such a little brat today… come over here…

He doesn't even seem angry, but rather excited. He's all smiley and cooing in a way that feels so utterly humiliating and degrading.

Oh, but please do run. Please, please make it so much more fun for him, run away and try to hide. There's virtually nothing in the world that turns him on as much as either a game of chasing you or hunting you down wherever you're hiding. The fact that you're that scared of getting your ass beaten is kind of cute, actually. Are you that sensitive to pain, or is it more protecting your pride that gives you so much resistance? Not that he's complaining or anything.

He'll even give you a very wide opportunity to run, make sure you have plenty of avenues to do so. His heart rate begins to go up seeing the look of realization in your eyes when you spot an opening to run off, and he'll give you a minute or two of a head start. It doesn't take him long to find you nonetheless, hauling you up over his shoulders and carrying you back to your room with obvious excitement, like a predator dragging squealing, still-living prey back to its den for its inevitable fate.

That being said, doing that will make it worse for you — at that point you probably do deserve a belt at least, you know? Regardless of the instrument of choice though, he keeps you bent over his knee — he can feel your squirming more that way, and he can grind his hard-on into your stomach as you thrash around and squeal. Each strike still lands on bare skin, but rather than having your lower half naked, he likes to sometimes move the hold on your back and grasp at the waistband of your panties instead, jerking them up to wedge between your cheeks, effectively holding you in place and baring your skin at the same time.

He's so mean about it, taunts you that same voice you hate so much—

Aw, are you actually crying? Maybe I'll stop if you beg for something else…

There's no set number or standard of how much you'll be punished for any particular offense, which can be more torturous than anything. At least if you were given a number, you'd know how much more you had to endure. Instead, you just lurch and squeal each time his hand or the leather comes down... you kick your legs and thrash about, to no avail. In fact, you're pretty sure it just makes him hornier, you feel his cock twitch and his breathing grow more ragged the louder you cry out, and his hand on your back forces you down harder.

He’s actually totally shameless about getting off to it, too, so you can’t use that against him.

God, you're so cute when you cry like that... squeal louder for me...

The only real upside is that it's usually abruptly cut off at some point once he's too aroused by it to continue, and needs to just bury himself into your holes. You get slid off his lap onto the couch or bed, barely getting any time to recover — still sniffling and whimpering— before being contorted to whatever position he wants and rammed into without warning… thus for once, him being perpetually horny and having virtually no self-control actually becomes a positive. It still doesn't help, though, that the sex makes his hips smack against your sore ass with each thrust, but crying out about that only makes him go harder.

You know it could be much much worse — he makes sure to remind you that he could easily keep going until you completely break down, but he's so nice and you should be grateful for that — but you're still sore, and it leaves a pinkish-reddish tint under your natural flesh tone — something he likes to point out to you later, groping at your ass and laughing when you jolt at the sting. Your nose wrinkled with your expression of disgust as you jerk your head away from him, and you mutter under your breath.

Bastard...

And then, you squeal and lurch forward as one more harsh smack lands on your backside. You try to ignore the chuckling that follows as your eyes well up with embarrassed tears, and you bury your face beneath the covers of the bed.

-------

Diluc’s punishments are awful in terms of pain, but thankfully they're over fairly quickly because it's largely an act of momentary fury and irritation, and once he gets that anger out of his system, the punishment will be over, too.

He's still very intimidating about it, and it doesn't help that it's always a sort of spontaneous thing he decides on in the heat of the moment — thus you see the exact moment you know you've crossed a line, but also know (or at least, quickly learn) that there's nothing you can say or do at that point that will get you out of being punished. His eyes narrow and his voice lowers and he tells you to get over here in a voice that makes you feel like your heart just stopped, and your stomach feels as if it twists into a knot when you see the confirmation of your dread when he takes his belt off.

Running is not advisable — it's not like you'll succeed, and you'll just make him more mad. He's rough with how he handles you, dragging you by your clothes and hair over to bed, counter, or the back of a couch, forcing your head down.

How bad any one particular spanking is varies a lot depending on how mad you've succeeded in making him. He's not merciful at all, so he hits with force based on the level of his frustration. Thus, your attitude is important — you can technically commit a lesser offense, but if you keep backtalking and being bratty and fighting it, you'll likely get a worse punishment than you would for a worse offense for which you were apologetic and submitted to punishment easily.

What does change with the severity of your offense is that if what you didn't isn't so bad, you can keep your clothes on, but for particularly egregious transgressions, even in spite of the heat of the moment, unfortunately, he doesn't forget to pull your clothes up or down and off to make sure you're bared first.

He virtually always uses a belt, much to your dismay, and prefers to bend you over various surfaces since he can strike harder that way. It’s painful, you always end up in tears quickly, begging and pleading and spilling apologies for whatever you did, but he never has any mercy on you.

Much like you can’t get out of it to begin with, there’s also nothing you can do that will make it end any sooner than he feels like it. Over and over, grumbling with each strike about how you’re such a brat, how you can’t just behave, how it’s your own fault, until your flesh is reddened and burning badly enough that even when it’s over, all you can do is slump forward and cry.

If he went really hard on you, he might feel a little bad afterwards, getting you a wet cloth to soothe the burn… but he’ll still remind you that you wouldn’t be lying there all shivering and sobbing if you just learned to behave yourself properly.

For him, it’s more of an actual punishment first and foremost and not really an intentionally erotic thing, at first he’s too mad to think much about the eroticism of it… but seeing you lying there sniffling with your butt so heavily marked and welting, admittedly he does quickly get hard… and he’ll get incredibly flustered and embarrassed if you accuse him of getting off to it.

But be careful — push him too much on that matter, and such antagonism might be grounds for a round two on your already-stinging ass.

-------

Ayato’s punishments are particularly unpleasant, but the thing is that if you're in that situation, you deliberately chose it. Because he's gracious enough that you get a lot of warnings before reaching that point.

If you're being bratty, temperamental, rude, or whatever other behavior he doesn't like, you get a certain look first. The standard half-lidded eyes, unpleased expression, the universal ‘stop that right now’ glare. Maybe a passive aggressive comment if he can slide one into conversation.

If that fails — in other words, if you keep being a brat regardless, deliberately ignoring his warnings — you then get a verbal warning. He'll address you directly if it's just the two of you, but gods forbid you’re digging your own grave by misbehaving in front of others, he waits for a moment where everyone else's attention is on something else before pulling you close in a faux gesture of affection (with a grip harsh enough to ensure you get the message but not enough to alert anyone else in the room to his quiet fury), lowering his voice, whispering directly into your ear.

We’re going to have a talk about your behavior when this is over. Do you understand?

You know by now what a "talk" actually means, and hearing the words makes you stiffen and swallow. Granted, by the time it reaches the point that you've been that bad, you won't escape without at least a few swats, but if you persist, you'll just make it much worse. All you can do is nod your head and wait in dreadful anticipation.

As soon as the company you had leaves, you try to slowly back away, looking for an opening to run, but he has you grabbed by your clothes or hair and is dragging you off before you can even try. The total silence on his end as he drags you over to your room only serves to amplify your dread, and thereby your little whimpering protests.

The primary thing that will make it that much worse is what he uses to punish you, because from the day he brought you home, he anticipated a need for discipline at some point, and thus had a whipping cane custom-made just for you. One of those thin wooden canes designed for no other purpose than infliction of pain and punishment, which he leaves sitting out in your bedroom at all times, making sure it's always within sight as a subtle threat, a reminder of his power over you and that your behaviors have consequences.

He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t get heated, yet somehow that makes it so much worse. He’s perfectly calm as he holds you down on his lap, a hand wrapped into and grasping your clothes on your back to ensure you’re not going anywhere with each sharp pain on your bare skin. He’s very disciplinarian about it, ensuring to emphasize the reason and intention of the punishment itself—

Remember that you had every option of avoiding this. This is only the consequence you deserve. Do you realize that?

You nod and whimper and try to apologize, but it doesn’t make each swat any lighter. He’s rather harsh about the severity too, the degree of pain, duration, number of swats and outright humiliation often feel disproportionate to what is in your opinion a mild offense, although you know better than to voice that thought.

You beg, sure, you cry and whimper and say you'll take any other punishment, but it goes in one ear and out the other, your words have no effect, and while his voice has that characteristic gentleness to it, he's still cold and firm in his reply, if he even gives you one.

You're not getting out of this. Hold still.

He does take care of you afterwards, so lovingly and gently it makes you angry. He reminds you again that it wouldn't have to happen if you behaved, that you have no one but yourself to blame, all while kissing your crying face, holding you close and gently massaging the newly formed welts.

He also likes to make you gauge how many lashes you deserve beforehand, often making the total number a certain multiple of how many times you mouthed off or did something against your rules. And of course, whenever there's a fixed number, he makes you count.

Listening to your voice grow more and more shaky and begin to crack, your speech becoming slurred with sobs and oh, how precious is the sudden panic in your voice when you realize you've lost count. The way you tense and start begging and whimpering when he replies—

I suppose we'll have to start over...

-------

Morax’s punishments are always by far the worst.

That's largely because there's a maddening element of psychological torment involved. It's slow, drawn out, the dread and anticipation are almost worse than the punishment itself. He actually employs a variety of corporeal punishments, each of which make your stomach churn just to think about, but unfortunately, putting you over his knee and beating your ass until there's a deep red hue to your skin is a personal favorite of his.

What makes his style of discipline so unbearable is that you’ll be punished for literally anything. There is no possible offense, no rule to be broken, that won’t earn corporeal punishment of some kind, most usually on your poor ass. You get a very clear set of rules, rules you’re expected to know and obey from day one. Countless little rules, so many of them meticulous and pointless. Things you must do, things you must not do, and rigid standards for your attitudes and behaviors.

Each and every violation is its own offense — not to mention, things like lying when asked about what you did, objecting to punishments, even talking back or trying to defend yourself when accused count as individual offenses too. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’ve broken a rule until he tells you you’re going to be punished for it, and any protest or whining counts as another offense.

Really, you’re lucky if you can go a few days in a row fully able to sit without any stinging pain, and it’s not uncommon for you to earn back-to-back punishments one day after another. You know for a fact that your record of days in a row without ending up laying in bed, whimpering and crying and clutching your backside in pain is a single digit number.

Sometimes, if it’s severe enough, you’ll get put over his knee right then and there, but he’ll also tally up the small offenses and, at the end of the day, punish you cumulatively for every small offense you’ve made, because he can’t allow even the slightest offense to go unpunished.

It’s not limited to things you do in his presence either, because he has ways of finding out everything you do.

Every day that you can't accompany him, he has an established routine for when he returns. Firstly, of course, you're supposed to greet him when he comes in (any attempts to be petulant by giving him silent treatment or hiding away will result in further punishments), but then, as he sits you down, holds you close, he asks you the same question.

Have you done anything you should not have today?

It's a torturous question.

On one hand, you could have very well been very well-behaved, in which case you can answer honestly with at least some confidence (although even then, part of you hesitates thinking maybe you committed some offense unintentionally).

But when you haven't been well-behaved and you know it — that's what's torturous.

It's a gamble. He asks every single day, so him asking itself is not a dead giveaway that he knows what you did. If he doesn't know — well, you might be able to lie and get away with it. Inversely, how unfortunate would it be if you told him, and it turned out he didn't know, and then you had to suffer when you could have gotten away with it?

On the flip side, if he does know — well, you'll soon be squealing like a stuck pig regardless, but things are much, much worse if you try to lie. You would know — you've taken that gamble a few times now and lost.

He seems to have ways of finding out everything — you only lied when you were absolutely confident, thinking there was no way anyone saw the thing you did, only for your stomach to lurch when you feel the soft stroking against your thigh stop, and are met with a low voice—

…Is that so?

And the tone, the way he says it, you immediately know you've messed up.

Of course, you could hypothetically keep denying it, but entrenching yourself further in a lie is, by that point, the worst decision you could make — you would know, you tried that once and you couldn't sit down normally for over a week. The best thing to do now is to confess… you won’t get any mercy or a lighter punishment, but you’ll avoid the additional punishment you’d get for doing anything else.

But even then, he can’t even give you the decency of forcing your body to bend and getting it over with. It has to be drawn out, torturing you to the greatest degree possible — sometimes, he does this by delaying it, telling you he has something else to do first, leaving you to sit around and wait in anticipation for an hour or more. If an offense is bad enough, one session might not even be enough, and you're told that you'll get another one tomorrow, adding to your dread.

But most of the time, the torment comes from forcing your own participation. He keeps you firmly in his lap, reaching down to grope at the flesh where your butt meets your thighs.

What do you think you deserve to have happen to you?

Another test, a question for which you’ll only receive something worse in addition to whatever will happen already if answered incorrectly. There’s only one right answer—

…Y-you should... punish me...

On the bright side, he’s genuinely pleased once you start learning well enough to know what the right answer is.

You’re stood up, guided over to the drawers, hands firmly on your shoulders to ensure you don’t get any ideas about running. You hate that one drawer, it makes your stomach churn just to look at. He has a damn collection for you— leather straps, whipping canes, paddles with holes in them just to hurt that much more. He tells you to pick one.

That, too, is a test— you know which ones hurt more. You're supposed to gauge what you deserve based on the severity of your offense, and he'll be that much more displeased if you go too lightly on yourself, and will consequently be more forceful, which you do not want. Eventually, you manage to make your choice, biting your lip, pointing with a shaky hand, tensing as his hand runs motions that would be soothing in any other context up and down your thigh, pausing to grasp at the fleshy part of your backside.

Then you're led back— sometimes to face the wall or bend over a counter, but most often he prefers to keep you over his lap. Not that you'll be forced down either— not unless you make that necessary, which of course, you do not want. Unless you want it to be that much worse, you follow the commands— pull your robes up, the waistband of any underwear down, bare your skin (always, no matter how mild the offense), lay down on your stomach, put your hands behind your back so he can grasp your wrists.

And even then, even then you have to be tormented further.

Now, what did you do to deserve this?

You recall to the best of your ability, hoping you didn't forget anything, lest you be accused of trying to be deceitful in hopes of escaping consequences, which will add another tally to the list.

It’s painful. It always is. You've reached a point where your resolve to not cry and squeal is defeated pretty early. You used to try your best not to for the sake of your pride, but you know by now that it will go on long enough that your tears and crying out are inevitable.

He manages to somehow be so stoic and calm and yet somehow so, so cruel about it.

Does it hurt?

Your shoulders quiver with little sobs, you go tense as he gropes and kneads at the raw flesh.

Y-yes, it hurts, it hurts so bad, please no more, please—

You cut off with a high-pitched cry as the stinging pain strikes again. And again. And again. It's always so much, so unfair compared to the weight of whatever you did. That slight pinkish undertone isn't quite satisfying enough either, he never stops until there's a deep, deep red tone to your flesh.

If you've been especially bad, you may have to count… but he actually tends to prefer not giving you a set number. You're more fearful that way, uncertain of how much more you have to endure.

You're certain he gets off on the pain for one thing, the sound of your cries and the way you jolt and squirm, but the humiliation is worse than the pain itself, for you. He knows that, revels in it. He's told you before—

You're such a prideful little thing… that will certainly need to be fixed.

Repetitive subjection to something so inherently humiliating and vulnerable, and being made to break down, any semblance of toughness and dignity being torn away at his hands, is a way of slowly breaking down your pride. You know that, it makes you so angry, but you can't help but let that vulnerability be exposed every time, to act in such a way that ensures he knows how badly it humiliates you.

Your go limp with exhaustion when it finally stops.

What have you learned?

You can barely speak, voice hoarse from the strain of your cries and speech muffled by sniffles and sobs.

I'm sorry… I won't do it again…

And then, he has the audacity to be so, so sweet to you. Looking down at your tear-streaked face, smiling— no, smirking, a belittling, amused expression— leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Poor thing.

Kneading at the sore flesh in spite of how the touch makes you wince. As if it isn't his fault, as if he had any mercy on you the whole time you were begging for it to stop.

It only makes you angrier. More than once now, you've earned a second round for how you reacted to his undeserved kindness. So ungrateful.

It's never a solitary punishment either, always coupled with something else, always something equally humiliating and discomforting, if not painful. You know he gets off to it, because the second punishment is almost always a direct sex act of some kind.

You'll take his cocks down your throat, grabbing your skull and fucking your face without any restraint, forcing you to swallow every last drop of seed, even forcing your head down to lick up whatever you spill off the floor. Your saliva just provides the lube to force you to bed and fuck you until you can't even stand, and all the while his hips bounce off your poor ass, each movement stinging against the sensitive flesh. He'll bite your flesh, unnaturally sharp teeth even piercing you skin, leaving you covered in marks. If he's feeling really, really mean, you don't even get the semblance of pleasure of it ramming into your poor sore, raw pussy— you'll take both cocks into your tight little ass instead, a stretch that makes you squeal and thrash and cry. Your legs kick and you lurch forward, desperate to pull yourself off, but you're jerked back with a growl as he slams into you, completely bottoming out. Eventually, you give in as the stretching pain ebbs away and trying to take whatever pleasure you can from the faint stimulation to spots of pleasure through the walls of flesh. But the act is utterly humiliating nonetheless, your hole left twitching and gaping for hours as cum leaks out and onto your skin. You can't even sit for days, both your poor asshole and backside sore and tender.

Your embarrassment and resentment builds. You loathe him for it, feel so humiliated and angry at yourself and how deeply you dread the punishments that it makes you nauseous.

And thus, in one particular incident, fed up and filled with spite, you made the greatest mistake of your entire time trapped with him— you decided to run, seeing that for once you had an opening to do so.

A stupid choice, really. You don't get far. Not even a full ten steps.

You know immediately that you have severely, sincerely fucked up. The sheer harshness with which you're grabbed, the back of your clothes grasped and twisted with unprecedented force, the draconic growl to his voice that makes your blood run cold.

Oh, dearest, you have no idea how badly you've just stepped out of line.

His other hand latches onto your throat.

You're going to be sleeping on your stomach for quite some time, won't you?

The statement alone makes tears well in your eyes, any bitter pride quickly crushed. You shake your head profusely, start begging for forgiveness, but you know in your heart that it's far too late for that… it still doesn't stop you from whimpering and apologizing as you're dragged back down the hall, no doubt to one of the worst punishments you've endured yet.

[doodler16]

"I have no idea why Vassago has a star. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s for aesthetic purposes." its not lol! and this is actually what pisses me off the most about vassago - he wasnt even a character that had a few pages of development for his design with thought put into it like striker, verosika, or ozzie, despite vassago already having a goetia design they could go off of to make a design from, and despite viv and the intended audience of in-the-know fans understanding how important vassago will likely be to the story in the following seasons, since he can basically call out all the bad guys on their bullshit with his truth finding powers by going: "nuh uh" and always be right. if you look back at the hazbin hotel pilot and look closely while vaggie speaks of alastors relationship to the other overlords that appear on screen, you can see vassagos overlord design (which has been barely changed from what we see in helluva boss,) next to what looks like a beta design of stolas from the clip released individually before the pilot. and later in the actual pilot, vassagos design remains unchanged, although now he is standing next to a 2 headed overlord resembling comedy and tragedy masks instead. straight up she really DID just see a male bird twink with stars and think, "ah! this design will be a perfect love interest for a stoliz love triangle so i can stretch out this ship EVERYONE KNOWS WILL BE CANON for THIRTY MORE EPISODES! (when weve only gotten through twenty episodes so far,) just think of all the merch fans will buy of the gay birds because of how starved people are for mlm ships in animation, and how many fans will defend this with, 'well acktually, u just cant handle messy queer relationships that arent perfuct so ur homophobic'; thanks, me!"

Vassago is such a nothing character that I totally forgot he was in the Hazbin Hotel pilot. Thank you for the reminder. 💀 You right Anon, nothing much changed, a few minor details but otherwise still the same character design. That’s sad.

[queer-ragnelle]

Do you have a guide/a recommended reading list for getting into Arthurian legends? I’ve been really getting into it in the past few months but I feel like I’m missing out on a lot of the foundations of it. (If you don’t and this is too big of an ask totally feel free to ignore this lol)

hello, anon.

i don't currently although i have plans to add another page to my blog listing medieval texts as well as links to download pdfs of them. i have english translations of texts originating in belarussian, dutch, french, german, hebrew, italian, latin, middle english, and last but not least, welsh.

in the mean time, i've collected for you some key texts that are readily available to read for free online!

le morte d'arthur by sir thomas malory [part 1] [part 2]

the history of the britons by nennius [here]

the mabinogion translated by lady charlotte guest [here]

four romances by chrétien de troyes [here]

parzival by wolfram von eschenbach [part 1] [part 2]

the wedding of sir gawain and dame ragnelle translated by thomas hahn [here]

sir gawain and the green knight translated by j. r. r. tolkien [here]

better translations/formatting forthcoming! enjoy. :^)

[saintsenara]

One thing that confuses me about the Dursleys is how they're supposed to be a parody of the British middle class, but isn't Vernon like director/chief of a company? Like, he owns a business and it doesn't seem to be a failing one so wouldn't they be more accurately described as upper class? Maybe it's just me who's dumb but it's something that really confuses me lol

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

the dursleys would never be thought of as upper-class, because that implies a certain aristocratic or gentry connection which they evidently don't have.

the most they could be is upper-middle-class - which is one of those fun british class-brackets which has a very specific "look" in the wider cultural imagination, and which defines itself as something vastly different from being middle-middle-class or lower-middle-class in terms of its vibe.

which is to say, this intra-class division isn't really financial [although that is a factor - just not the only one] so much as it's based in performance. how one changes social class [which is possible, these class divisions aren't immutable] isn't by becoming rich, it's by learning how to perform. mundungus fletcher, for example, could be a billionaire, but the way he presents himself to the world would still read as working-class. the teenage voldemort has nothing in his bank account, but he behaves in a way which is indistinguishable from his posh pureblood friends.

the dursleys' class performance - the way they dress and speak, the way they behave, their attitude towards their possessions [such as vernon's pride in his car], the places they want to go on holiday - indicates a bang-in-the-middle vibe, simultaneously aspirational to someone like petunia [who grew up below it] and hilariously unimpressive to someone like james potter [who grew up above it].

the best illustration of this is to compare them to the grangers, who are clearly upper-middle-class. the financial difference is negligible - vernon, as a company director, could feasibly be on a salary which was in the same ballpark [or which potentially even exceeded] what a dentist who only or mainly took private clients [which is the case for many dentists in the uk] could expect to earn - but their performance of class is totally different.

the grangers go skiing and spend their summers in the south of france; the dursleys' ideal holiday destination is majorca - which, while this is very unfair to a lovely bit of spain and the lovely people who live there, is used by jkr because it has that sort of middle-tier association in the british cultural imagination [posher than going to the costa del sol, rougher than staying in a converted farmhouse in cantabria]. the grangers name their daughter "hermione" - which, whether they get it from greek or from shakespeare, is a statement of their class performance - while the dursleys name their son "dudley" - which is the same.

and - of course - the grangers are dentists, which means they went to university. vernon makes drills - but is not an actual builder; which, while a blue collar job which would be understood as working-class, is also understood as something authentic - and clearly did not.

the interesting thing about the dursleys' class-status, though, is that vernon seems to have gone down from a childhood which was upper-middle-class. not in the same way as the grangers - apparently city-based, europhile, undoubtedly voted for tony blair in 1997 - are upper-middle-class, but in a way specifically associated with posh people who live in the country - whose poshness is considered to be more parochial and more politically conservative.

marge dursley - with her tweed and her bulldogs and her brusque manners - is a perfect stereotypical example of this. so too is smeltings, the fee-paying boarding school which both vernon and dudley attend - it wouldn't be unusual within the dursleys' class-bracket for dudley to be privately educated, but it is unusual for this to be at a school with the vibe that smeltings [whose uniform, for example, is so obviously based on that of schools like eton and harrow] has.

it's really interesting to think about why vernon might have ended up shuffling down to the middle of the middle, especially because there are plenty of careers for a man from that country-posh bracket which would retain his class-status without requiring a university education - above all, going into the army. that he doesn't do this - that he becomes a managing director, a job which has financial but not cultural cachet as an upper-middle-class signifier [if you care about these things - which i do not] - has a certain degree of deliberate choice behind it.

and this provides a fascinating comparison with petunia - who was clearly raised working-class and has ascended into the middle through performance, and who then becomes desperate to retain her status by continuing to perform "correctly". vernon also lives behind a mask, which also depends on the correct performance of a class-bracket which he wasn't born into, even if his class journey is one of descent.

vernon and petunia's fear of magic relates to this - they're both terrified that the neighbours will learn, if they discover the existence of magic, that they're not as bang-in-the-middle normal as they claim to be.

and this is fundamentally because magic is something eccentric and strange. and eccentricity [especially in dress and manners - the thing that vernon hates about wizards] is read as either a sign that someone is very posh or a sign that they are very much not.

but not as something in between.