#destiny x you

[demaparbat-hp]

Damage.

Quote by @desertbcrnnobody

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴ ʟᴏsᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yan loser who is genuinely the most disgusting, rattiest, emoest mf you've ever seen.

You guys met during English, having a project assigned to the both of you to work together. The whole assignment you just ignored him, not bothering to deal with his creepiness.

He was known around the school as the schools creep, always looking at girls, getting into fights and always losing, just a really pathetic dude to keep it short.

yan loser who during English class, got paired up with you once more as you quietly groaned and your friends wished you luck

"h-hi." He said shyly, fiddling with his long black sleeved shirt that he's been wearing for probably two weeks now

You raised your eyebrow, "Uh yeah hi." You said monotonously, not wanting to even look at the weird guy next to you.

yan loser who actually managed to strike up a conversation with you after so many failed attempts, feeling a recognizable friend rise to life from hearing you talk to him for so long.

"yeah I personally think that Sasuke is the baddest character out of everyone in naruto-"

"s-sorry y/n, imma go to the bathroom o-okay?" He mumbled under his breath before getting up abruptly asking for permission to go use the bathroom and leaving.

You didn't pay it much attention due to you barely caring about him, he was just someone you could use to pass the time with in this boring English class

yan loser whose never cummed so damn much in his life in that damn bathroom stall, cumming buckets as he pants, his tongue lolling out as he giggles at the memory of you, feeling another boner coming

yan loser who comes back a few minutes later, shirt completely ruined and pants low on his hips, as your classmates hurled at the sight of him

yan loser who out of your own will, begins hanging out with you more, trying to show you his collection of Pokemon cards

yan loser who uses reddit 24/7, acting as if it's their therapist, ranting and writing full on essays about you, as he slowly slicks his hand up and down, whimpering at the sensation, thinking about the many positions he could put you in

yan loser who touched your thigh on accident once, and hasn't been the same ever since, now all he's looking at is those soft warm thighs of yours, wondering how it would feel wrapped around his head

yan loser who all he wants to do is ram his hips against yours, to fully ravage and cream inside your womb, he wants to pull out and see the sticky substance slowly drip out as well, fuck he could already feel himself getting hot at the thought..

yan loser who unironically uses brainrot alot, using it to try to make you laugh, always feeling his ego growing each time you let out a giggle

yan loser whose always playing video games, more preferably hentai games where he could customize his love interest, designing it so it could look exactly like you.

yan loser who secretly owns a private insta that is basically a fanpage of yours, that account only follows his main account and your account.

yan loser who is a complete loser who hasn't felt a woman's touch on him for years and is now waiting to breed you (or u could breed him, he doesn't mind :3 )

yan loser who is ur loser that is just a nice guy! So why don't you like him! :(

[lustlovehart]

OH MY GOSH RIDDLE??? He is ACTUALLY a pretty princess now omg. And tangled?? Me and Riddle are the same person fr 🤞🤞

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE imagine being the Eugene to Riddles Rapunzel. (With a few creative liberties <3)

Cw: Rapunzel Riddle, Mother Gothel Ms.Rosehearts, A blade is held to your throat, Threatens of Beheading, You both get really close, Low key just cheesy stuff, Riddle deep in his mothers control and you’re the one who breaks it <33

The moment you set foot into his tower shelves upon shelves of books surround the room, all of which seem pertained to studies that you simply could not care in the least about. A vast majority of them are related to medical while a smaller portion is other educational subjects like Math and English.

It has no matter to you though, all you need is shelter before the guards inevitably catch your thievery. Originally, you believed this place to just be an abandoned library, but the closer you look at it… Fresh tea and a warm plate filled with food that looks plain yet nutritional tells you a different story. Especially how organized and tided the room is, and… The long cascade of red hair that has circled around the room.

You don’t have the chance to fly out the window before someone holds you in place, a blade to your throat.

“Mother said the most important rule is to not let anyone inside.” You don’t turn around to look at your captor, only tightening the grip on your bag.

“Is her rule more important than the law? I hope not—“ before you know it he pulls you to the floor, his long hair tangling into your legs. You finally see his face in all its glory, the sun hugging his skin. He looks… Familiar.

“Yet you’re trespassing. If you really cared for the law you wouldn’t be here!” The blade is closer to your neck, his fingers grazing your skin. He opens his mouth to say more truth, his eyes shifting over to your bag. In turn you catch his gaze when he reaches over.

“Ah ah—! Hey that’s mine you recluse—!” You stretch over to grab your rightful steal before he can, but you’re too late.

“… What’s inside?” It’s a book no doubt, he can tell from the indent of the object through the fabric.

“You don’t talk to anyone but your mommy do you? I’m not telling someone who just tried beheading me!” For a moment his face goes red, expression shifting to anger, ready to yell every rule you’ve broken so far. His rage subsides when he notices the way your freed hand grips his hair.

No one else has touched it but his mother.

When you notice the natural progression of his emotions, you lean into him, your faces a few inches apart. It takes a moment before he realizes how close you are, his body falling back in shock. He buries the book into his body, looking up as your body pins him from above. It’s weirdly a pretty sight, the strands of his crimson hair highlighting your features as it webs your body like webs. He winders what kind of person you are.

“Do you wanna leave?” The words don’t fully process, as if he has never even considered the thought. He doesn’t reply, furrowing his eyebrows in suspicion. He really shouldn’t trust you, not at all, yet your smile seems so genuine he can’t help but feel his worry dissipate at your face. You lower your body down, your chin placing itself on the book, the only obstacle blocking you both from practically embracing each-other. “I’ll help you out, and you can give me the book back.”

He shouldn’t believe you, but the moment you smiled at him, he can’t help but put his belief in you.

“… Riddle.” He leans back up, his hair following him, which only further traps you in himself, but you don’t seem to mind for some reason. Your finger twirls his hair, your hand grabbing onto his.

“Let’s go then, Riddle.” Little does he know, the familarity you felt has been realized.

This Riddle, is your childhood crush who suddenly moved away.

[theology101]

Yo forgive the fact that i recorded this on an iphone in an amc, but can we like… discuss for a second

Feyd-Rautha, if he had a single second to live, would’ve started making out with Paul. This man has never been turned on more in his fucking life then fighting his predestined Cousin-Soulmate over who gets to be the Father of the Kwisach Haderach

You know he was pissed as fuck that Jessica ruined the plan. Man would’ve been SO HYPE to make Super Messiah Babies with Paul(ine)

[imsofreakingtired]

Hiii I love ur writing 💕 and I was wondering if u had any cowboy sevika hcs :)

anon i know you asked for headcanons but my maladaptive brain took me elsewhere-

destined to meet again

artist: @/olgasnoww on twitter

content warning(s): set in a wild west au; some au-typical violence (masc fem reader, but ambiguously described)

"it's been a shining star, it's been a blue sky gonna tell you something 'bout my story."

~~~

Dusk was falling, and the salon was still and nearly empty. The hot, dry air was putting everyone in a stupor, and the wind whistled a lonely song across the brittle grass and sweeping sand. 

With a bang, the doors of the salon swung open violently. Heads snapped toward the noise. Standing in the doorway was a tall figure in a dusty red cape. She wore a wide brimmed hat with a bandanna covering half her face. Peering over the cloth flashed steely grey eyes. 

Immediately, the three men sitting at the front table jumped up, pistols pointed at the stranger. 

It happened in a heartbeat. The cape whipped aside, a glint of the revolver, three gunshots. The men lay dead. 

The stranger sauntered over to the bar, where the barkeep stood quaking in terror. She sat down, tapped the table lazily with her right hand. Then she pulled down the mask. 

If he didn’t know it from the moment she walked into the salon, the barkeep knew he was a dead man now. The silver lined scars webbed over the left side of the stranger’s face were recognizable to every single person living in this side of the West, from the old men in their banks to the little children who heard of those scars as bedtime stories to scare them into good behavior. Rumor had it that she had tattooed the silver along her very scars, to bear them as a trophy and a warning to strangers. It matched the grey in her eyes. Many a rancher who survived an encounter with her weren’t able to recall those cold grey eyes without a shudder. 

The barkeep’s throat went dry. 

Sevika Jain—the Brute of the West—was in town. 

She gestured to the bottles lining the pantry. With shaking hands he poured her a drink, which she tipped back. As he refilled the glass, she looked over at the bodies on the floor. 

“Hope they got a chance to tell their wives they loved ’em,” she mused with a dry chuckle. Her voice was deep and smooth, as if she held the wind of the west in her lungs. “Isn’t that right, Chuck?”

The barkeep’s heart quailed with loathing. “You ain’t got a heart in that chest of yours,” he said furiously, despite the sweat staining his underarms. 

She just laughed again. 

A door banged shut in the back of the salon. The barkeep heard this, and took renewed courage. “In trouble now, aren’t you?” 

She swirled the whiskey in the glass. “What makes you think that?” 

“You wouldn’t have come crawlin’ back to this town if you weren’t in some pinch. Your men finally walked, didn’t they?” 

Idly, she pulled aside her cape, and for the first time revealed the infamous mechanical arm. As it gleamed in the fading light, the barkeep shrank back. It was a sinister contraption imitating the shape of a human arm, except there was a shining revolver in the place of where the hand should have been. It was this arm that rippled terror throughout the west. The arm that earned her her titles. 

“S’long as I got her, there’s nothin’ but the devil that can bring me to the ground.” 

She downed the second drink. Wiping her mouth with the back of her human hand, she glanced at the barkeep. “I got a meeting with your mayor.” 

He gave her a nervous jeer. “You’ll get it in prison where you belong.” 

The revolver clicked. “No,” she said. “I’ll get it now.” 

Outside the salon, a voice thundered, “You’re done for, Jain!” 

Sevika turned around. She could hear hooves pawing the dusty ground outside the door. She stood and walked slowly out the doors, and found herself face to face with a half circle of six armed men, the sheriff at the center. 

“Hands where I can see ’em!” He barked at her. 

She raised her right hand, brought it to her shoulder, and ripped off the cape. Before they knew what was happening, she raised her left arm to the signboard of the salon and shot it off. It crashed to the ground with a billow of dust. The sheriff and his men began shooting, and Sevika disappeared into the salon. They charged after her. 

Glasses shattered and tables cracked and splintered under the feet of the horses as they galloped through the salon. Sevika jumped over the bar counter for cover, turned around, and took out three of the six men in a single line of shots. Then she turned her revolver to the liquor bottles lining the shelf and shot them through, drenching the place with alcohol. With a spark from her gun she lit up the table. 

A rush of flames and smoke overwhelmed the place. Gunshots fired at random, bullets whistling over the crackle of burning wood. By the time they had made it out of the wreck, a horse from the salon stable was missing, and Sevika was nowhere to be seen. 

☆

You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, inspecting your reflection. You had just taken a bath to clean the smell of sex and cigarette smoke off your skin. Your poor mayor father, running the town and living the height of propriety, could never know that his daughter was running off every other night to meet her girls at Red’s House of Sin. 

Visits to Red’s always left you winded and a little bored. The initial thrill was ebbing away, and you knew the day was drawing closer and closer when your father would attempt to marry you off to the stuffy old doctor in town. You were thirsting for a way out, one way or another—out of this town, away from the miles and miles of dusty canyons and sharp toothed hares. 

You mused over the rumors you heard at Red’s tonight—the place was buzzing with talk of some notorious outlaw having been spotted on the plains. What was the alias? The Brute? Some of the girls claimed that they’d had her once or twice before, but when you pressed them they insisted they couldn’t remember what she looked like. All they knew was that she had a fearsome scar on her face and a gun for a left arm. And that she was as handsome as the devil. 

You snorted at that. There was room for only one handsome woman in town. 

Suddenly, you heard your window shatter and a muffled curse. You whirled around. A tall, muscular figure hoisted herself clumsily over the windowsill and sank down to the floor with a loud groan. The right sleeve of her shirt was bloody, the left sleeve—wasn’t there. In its place was a mechanical arm ending with a shining silver revolver. You stared at her. She looked up at you and raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. Her crooked lips curled into a smirk, she reached up and tipped her hat at you.

~~~

a/n: this has, quite against my best wishes, ballooned into an idea for a whole ass fic so umm,, to be continued 😭

[emmster]

I think I’ve decided to make the comic with Ghoap in mind

[eratosmusings]

Stolen Destiny (III)

summary: your limits are pushed until something snaps

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, blood, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 2k

previous chapter / dividers / masterlist

Feyd-Rautha is in your dreams again. Black teeth, barking laugh. But it’s not the same. Eyes alight with something you don’t understand. Dress heavy and clinging. Nails dragging down your wet skin. Dagger in your hand pressing against his throat. Poisoned words on his lips. “You wear blood well, my darling.” His image fades as hands cup your cheeks.

The day that follows is endless. Finalizing preparations for the coming days of events. Fielding requests from the minor houses for a moment of your time. A meeting over concerns of recent tectonic activity that your absent father is supposed to attend. Two more run throughs of the dance. The swordmaster demands two more after dinner.

Irulan is entangled in conversation with Duke Leto throughout the meal. Nauseously you wonder when an engagement will be announced. It was the destiny the Atreides had stolen. Paul would be Emperor and you would be nothing but a disappointment. Your father toasts to how proud he is of the woman you’ve grown into. There’s no truth in it. You can only blink at the lemon tart that’s served for dessert as he promises he’s prepared a fun few days ahead. 

When the meal is over you do not seek Fandral. You do the opposite and duck out of his sight at the first opportunity. He knows you’re supposed to return to the Small Hall and practice again. As comforting as his presence has been, you don’t want comfort or encouragement or protection. You want to stab something. Repeatedly.

The training yard is empty. The weapons are locked away, but you have the dagger Feyd-Rautha had gifted. You’d carried it with you throughout the day. Tucked away into the deep pockets of the borrowed gowns. You aren’t sure why today you felt the need to have it and not any other. Maybe you knew you’d need it. Or maybe you made the need for it because you had it. Either way, it serves your purpose.

The mannequin takes the blade with little resistance. It was natural in your hand. No matter how much or little pressure you use, it doesn’t slip and slice your palm like others do. A well made dagger.

You flick on the mannequin’s shield to test how well it handles the added strain.

“I am glad to see you enjoying my gift.”

There’s little resistance as you sink it into the stomach of the mannequin. “I am sick of pleasantries and pandering, na-Baron. Leave me be.”

Feyd-Rautha is predictable. You knew he would follow. You know he’ll take the chance to attack.

There’s the slightest whoosh of air that warns you. You evade the blade in his hands by millimeters, dodging to the right. You push the mannequin towards him. It knocks into him, unbalancing him for a moment long enough to twist your own shield on. His black grin is wide again as he recovers and stands tall. The dagger he carries isn’t much different from his gifted one. The handle thicker and longer, a few teeth in the blade, but from what you can glimpse it’s clear they had been made by the same hands. 

He lunges, expecting your evasion and slices at where your throat goes. He’s too fast and it bounces off. You counter with a jab to his arm, slow enough that it strains his shield. He doesn’t give it the time to penetrate as his blade comes back again.

The dance continues. Both of you manage to knick the other occasionally. You feel blood seeping from a slash across your chest and more from one along your back. He has two along his arms and one on his hip. You’ve held well, but he is taller and stronger and you feel yourself begin to falter.

“Growing tired, my lady?” he teases as you barely dodge another attack. 

“As would you under the weight of this dress.”

“I have no objection to you removing it.” He’s quick even after the extended duel. He strikes, and in your attempt to get away, he catches your hand and turns your shield off. The humming of his shield silences as you're pulled and turned until your back meets his chest. His blade is against your neck with a familiar chill and fingers digging into your hip. “Though it may tempt me into distraction.”

An unfamiliar fire blooms with the confession. “Careful what you share, na-Baron. I might use that sort of information against you one day.” Something twitches against your lower back.

“Let her go.”

The hand gripping your hip, the blade at your throat, and the warmth on your back are gone in an instant. You’ve never heard The Voice before, but it’s unmistakable. It’s not even directed at you, but your mind blurs and your body is pliant, as if waiting for its own command to follow. Fandral’s face blocks your view. He’s questioning if you’re alright, if you feel faint or dizzy. You can’t answer. It’s as if you're treading through the water again. 

You’re turned and pulled again, but now you’re separated from Feyd-Rautha by your guard and Paul Atreides. The heirs point their blades at each other. Paul accuses him of taking and hurting you. As if you were some helpless damsel.

“Stop,” you say. It’s too quiet, your mouth numb. Fandral shushes you and tries to lead you away. You try again, louder, “Stop!”

Neither heir moves.

“I asked him to spar.” It’s only a half lie. Paul’s tense pose eases as he finally breaks his gaze off Feyd-Rautha. “I wasn’t taken. He didn’t hurt me.” Paul's eyes dip to your chest. “Not anymore than I did him, anyways.”

Fandral questions, “In an evening dress? Alone?”

“It is when she is most vulnerable.” Feyd-Rautha has lost his smile. “Given her security leaves much to be desired at the best of times.”

You can feel the loathing radiating from Fandral. But there is no denial.

You nod at your former opponent “Thank you for your time, na-Baron. It was very enlightening.”

“It was a pleasure, my lady. You fight like a Harkoneen.”

The fire he lit burns brightly on your cheeks.

“What was the point in asking for a personal guard?” Fandral huffs when you’ve returned to the palace. His jacket is around your shoulders to cover the slice in the back of your dress. He’d wanted you to see the doctor, worried again about poison, but you refused. “If you wanted to train, you should have asked me.”

“Or me,” Paul says on your other side. “He could have hurt you.” He doesn’t recognize the condescension of his concern.

“That was the point.” You have to stop yourself from touching the wound on your chest. “How am I supposed to know training has been effective if I’ve never faced real consequences?”

Fandral scolds, “If you stay with your guard, you’ll never be in a situation where you have to find out if it’s effective.” He shakes his head, pushing the door to the Small Hall open. It was the compromise he relented to. No doctor visit if you came here. 

“You’re late,” the swordmaster calls out from where he stands in the middle of the room with a guard you recognize as one the Atreides’. His eyes travel across your mussed form. “I hope the other person looks worse than you.” 

“He doesn’t.” 

You glare at Fandral as the swordmaster decides that is a personal offense against his training and decides that practice will be doubled for it. It’s only as you look for the woman who always carries your swords that you realize she’s not there. None of the others are. But Paul still is.

“I shall see you tomorrow?” You hope he understands it’s a dismissal.

The question amuses him. “I intended to practice with you tonight.”

“With me?”

He smiles as if you’re missing something obvious.

The dance isn’t silly anymore. Fandral had been right. It does tell a story. One of submission. 

There are no troubadours, only the sole Atrides guard who plucks at the strings of a Baliset. Your feet move in the familiar pattern, hilts of the swords bouncing against your hips.

Even without the additional instruments you recognize the melody. The blades gnash against their sheaths in protest as you pull them free. They shriek in the air, spinning easily between your fingers. Faster and faster they spin until the music nearly dies.

Once, twice you clink the blades’ together before you stab one into the plush stool. Fandral claps to the beat the drums usually play as you turn your back to it. The sword that remains drags its tip against the stone floor. Sparks follow when you twist quickly.

Paul stands there now, sword pulled free. He brings it in front of him as he drops into a defensive stance. The Baliset begins again now you fight. Thrust, retreat, parrie, circle, advance, lunge, parrie, retreat, parrie, parrie. On and on it goes until he flicks the sword out of your hand. You take the hand he offers and spin into him as the music reaches a subdued crescendo. Chest heaving, you stay there and stare into the eyes of the person who has taken everything from you until the music and the last of your dignity finally dies.

Three more times you are subjected to the humiliation. It will be once more tomorrow.

When Paul and his guard are gone, jolly at the surprise they’d sprung on you, you round on the swordmaster. He answers your unspoken question. “Your father did not want you to know until the last possible moment.”

“Perhaps you should wait until morning,” Fandral attempts to persuade you as he shadows you down the empty corridors. “Or at least remove your swords?” You don’t bother with a response. 

The guards stationed outside his door attempt to stop you, but you’re quick to dip under their arms and push into the room. You're unsurprised to find a courtesan in his bed. There’s a scandalized shout from her and curses from him as they scramble to cover themselves.

“Get out,” you tell her. 

Your father objects, but she is quick to comply. She pulls her dress from the floor and slips into it with practiced ease. She’s gone within a minute. The door closes behind her.

“You’ve gotten bold,” he growls.

“Why didn’t you want me to know?”

With a huff he says, “Because you wouldn’t have done it if you did. I told the Atridies you’d be too shy to do it if you knew and the boy thought it was enduring.”

“Why have me dance with him at all?”

He shrugs. “It was their suggestion.”

You stare at him. He’s pathetic. “You were wrong,” you tell him, bile on your tongue. “I would have done it if you asked. I would’ve done anything for you.” You leave before he sees the tears slide down your cheeks.

Feyd-Rautha doesn’t have a chance to visit you that night. Sleep never comes. Anger too potent to allow any rest.

When morning comes the maids work on making you presentable. There’s comments on the bags under your eyes and the new scar across your chest. You let them cover the former, but insist on keeping the latter. “Your father won’t like it,” one cautions. You're not inclined to care what he likes anymore. It’s something they soon realize.

They’re hesitant to style your hair in the way you instruct, but relent. Then the dress they offer, another of his choosing, is refused. You see their realization when you tell them what you’ll wear instead. Their efforts to sway you are in vain as you threaten to leave the room as bare as the day you were born.

Fandral stops in the doorway after the maids leave. “You look…”

You're still standing in front of the mirror. The dress is lilac, frilly and feminine in a way you’ve never been allowed. Your hair is braided, save for the pieces that frame your face. You look soft. Delicate. Like a painting that had been tucked away when you asked too many questions.

“Like my mother.” 

There’s only one thing missing. The rogue lies abandoned on the vanity. It’s vivid enough that a single dab of the brush colors both your cheeks.

your thoughts & reblogs are appreciated!

join my taglist 💕

next chapter

[kaiaelsher]

A scenario where Raf invite you over to read this one book that was actually restricted by the government the moment it was released so there was only one copy of it and he just - casually read them on the couch because he has that book wrapped with other unrecognizable lable so it's safe to just carry it around without getting caught.

You sat between his legs and leaned your back on his chest, feeling the way his chest slowly and steadily raise up and down in order to appear calm (yet his heartbeat stated otherwise) and read the slowly fading yet readable phrases written as you both talked to each other about your opinion regarding the topics written there, even better if the book was a fictional story and you both gave your perspective about this one character.

And Rafayel LOVES IT he loves hearing your opinions on things he's interested on.

After that, the story in the book become the inside jokes between you two, when you were about to do something you know is fucked up, you're going to just say, "Whatever, (character name) is way more fucked up that I am.". Or the both of you just randomly says the memorable quotes from the book as a way to joke with each other.

I think that's beautiful.

[minkyungseokie]

𝒟𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 | ​Toto + Susie Wolff

synopsis; Susie Wolff gets a newly appointed PA to help her with the F1 Academy and they develop a close friendship over the months until the friendship becomes more. Of course, she tells hers husband about the girl

status; ongoing

warnings; age gap love(R: 23, S:40, T: 51), gxg, throuple, controversial age gaps, random German and Scottish pet names,

has a faceclaim, so if you don't like that please don't read

note; technically requested

note2; I was asked to make a singular fic, but I wanted to make it a series

fc; imleslie(on a Chinese Instagram app called Xiaohongshu)

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Toto Masterlist

Come Talk to Me

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

synopsis; Susie Wolff gets a newly appointed PA to help her with the F1 Academy and they develop a close friendship over the months until the friendship becomes more. Of course, she tells hers husband about the girl

❧ About Y/n

❧ 第一章| Getting the Job

❧ 第二章 | Moving and Meeting the Boss

❧ 第三章 | First Day of Work

❧

❧

❧

[kindaasrikal]

Guys I’m an old people defender i wholeheartedly believe Wu is a good teacher and person (teen wu and younger was a good character, older wu doesnt have the same effect tho and just falls under a decent character)

Like guys he didn’t mean for Morro to go insane over the green ninja thing, i dont think anyone would’ve expected that to happen with a damn baby. Not to mention that as much as people like to say he abused or neglected Morro or whatever, canonically speaking he hasn’t. In the end what happened to Morro was the effect of his own insecurities and Wu’s lack of understanding.

Wu was not at fault for the whole kai getting obsessed with the green ninja thing or any of the other ninja doing the same, that was all their own faults for being all nosy (as teenage boys with too much power do.)

Wu might’ve overreacted after finding out what Garm did with the letter business in season 4, but just cause he cussed out his BROTHER once (guys they’re siblings, this is the norm and Wu was fully justified to be irritated. Also there will always be a tension between them because they’ve had to fight against each other for either decades, hundreds of years, or thousands of years. They will never have the normal sibling relationship they once only somewhat had.) that was still his brother he just lost and definitely feels guilt at not getting to reconcile PROPERLY with him. Just because you are mad at an individual, genuinely mad at them, does not mean you hate them.

Wu was not at fault for the whole Garmadon getting sent to the under world his clothes literally starts glowing mf was not planning that. He was literally about to die because of Garmadon i think he was a tad preoccupied with that.

Wu is not at fault for Lloyd becoming the green ninja, its shown that he cannot control who gets chosen and was quite obviously hoping it would be the damn teenagers trained to deal with this, not the damn baby who would have to fight his DAD. The whole reason he trained Lloyd so hard after was because he is well aware of how being the green ninja is a curse, especially to Lloyd. He knew a target was on Lloyds back now and for the rest of time and he can do nothing to remove it, only help Lloyd in handling it.

Aspheera is a huge SOGGY BISCUIT I HATE HER I AHTE HEERYEYYE. She is so hypocritical and its all her fault and not Wu’s don’t even try it (i love her character thats why i hate her sm). Wu was literally a baby when the whole betrayal thing happened, and how could he have known his damn students would open up her prison cell and she’d take Kai’s power. Kai had a right to mad about getting dragged into it but even he admits he was reacting the way he was because his powers got stolen. Aspheera was completely at fault for what happened to her.

I wont deny that whatever was going on between Misako and Wu in the early seasons was super weird, but I’m also not going to call it betrayal or cheating for Garmadon because Garmadon had been gone for a good decade and tbh it was rlly bad writing of writers trying to shove romance everywhere.

He took in a bunch of teenagers, thats something i wont deny to also be bad. But don’t you find it convenient that Wu took them each in during separate times of need? Cole, deep in grief, needed to become a ninja because it completed him. Jay, desperate for a place and purpose in this world, needed to be a ninja to become confident and aware of his worth. Zane, confused and lost, needed to be a ninja to find his own place in the world, needed to be a ninja because he needed to have a purpose, a home. Kai, angry and traumatised, needed to become a ninja to become the best version of himself. Wu knew of each of them, and only took them in when he knew they needed an outside source to lead them.

Literally i dont understand why people paint him as a villain. He has never been one. It’s like how Mystake said, the only reason one becomes wise is through their own mistakes, their own life and experiences. Wu is an old, old man. He is right when he says he’s not like how he used to be.

I could keep going, but God guys. Stop mischaracterising characters! You can dislike them all you want, its your life, but don’t change what they have done and call them a bad person when that isn’t true.

You can call Wu a character with mistakes, a character heavily in the light grey area of good and evil.

WU IS NOT A BAD GUY GUYS STOP CALLING HIM ONE 😭

[lovecrimer]

my one thing about just about any fandom ever is that fans will almost always choose their mlm ships over their wlw ships. i can’t say i am entirely innocent when it comes to this of course, but i have noticed this is a large issue that no one ever seems to talk about. if i look up almost any wlw ship on this app there is like ZERO fanart and it makes me sad because i want it !!

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇʀᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yandere nerd who everyone hates bc hes a lil bitch and tattletell

yandere nerd who even u hate

yandere nerd who voluntarily becomes your tutor once the teacher said you are failing

yandere nerd who has a huge blush on his face while helping you on your homework, stuttering in every sentence

yandere nerd whose cock gets hard when he sees your gaze on him, paying attention to every word he says

yandere nerd who bites his lip to hold in a moan when you complimented how smart he was

yandere nerd who u still dont fw, but appreciate bc he got your grades higher

yandere nerd who realizes that one your grades get nhigher, you wont need him anymore, so he hacks the teachers computer to bring your test score to a 0 (lil BITCH)

yandere nerd who you now go to everyday for tutoring, going to his house

yandere nerd who hides his shrine of your things, and panties he stole

yandere nerd who never had a touch of a woman other than his mother

yandere nerd who has a blush and stuttering when you rubbed his back, trying to fight his urges to palm himself through his pants

yandere nerd who cries and begs you to stay over at his house when it starts getting dark, knowing that if you left he was gonna cry into his pillow, wanting to see you

yandere nerd who manages to convince you to stay over, cuddling ontop of you, putting your head between his boobies

yandere nerd who whispers sweet things to you as he wrapped his legs around your waist, not wanting you to leave him

yandere nerd who now clings into you, saying that you guys are basically dating after that cuddle session

yandere nerd who pouts and sulks whenever you hang out with someone other than him, it could even be your female bestie and he would be pulling on your arm, telling you "lets go!!! I dont wanna be near this roach!! Come, n/n!!" whining

yandere nerd who suffers from jealousy issues, wanting to bang his head against the wall anytime you post an insta picture that has someone other than you in it

yandere nerd who pouts as he touches himself, rubbing his pinkish tip as he messages you crazy text messages saying what he wants you to do to him, jealous that you were hanging out with someone other than him he wants that cute, pretty hand of your touching him, and shoving ur fingers down his throat

yandere nerd who is ur lil helper and will always be! <33

WSG CHAT

SEND REQUATS NOEWWWW

[frickingnerd]

life with simon after his acquittal

pairing: simon blackquill x gn!reader

tags: longterm relationship (pre UR-1), simon is found innocent, wholesome fluff, angst with a happy ending, kisses & hugs

you've been dating simon for a very long time now, even before he got imprisoned for a crime that he didn't commit

and through all that time, you stayed by his side, believing that one day, simon would be proven innocent and return to a normal life with you!

for years, you only got to see your boyfriend through the glass windows at the detention center or across the courtroom, watching him as a prosecutor, while you sat in the audience

until one day, when you had almost given up hope that life could ever be normal again, simon got proven innocent, just hours before his execution!

the moment court ended, you dropped everything and rushed towards your boyfriend, who didn't even have time to remove the handcuffs around his wrists, before you had pulled him into a tight hug and kissed him passionately – in front of everyone in court!

it had been years since you've been able to touch him. he tasted differently now that you finally got to kiss him again and your body couldn't even remember how his arms used to feel around you

that day, you didn't leave simon's side. you clung to him the entire time, yearning to feel his warmth. and simon felt the same way, even if he didn't say it out loud

only when the two of you were home again, a home that simon could barely even call his own anymore, did he manage to let his guard down and show you how much he missed you

the two of you spent the next few days in bed, cuddling, kissing and talking for hours on end, to catch up on the years that were stolen from you

after those initial first days, simon and you slowly tried to return to a normal life. simon kept his job as a prosecutor and you had your own life

but now you knew that every day you'd return home from work, your boyfriend would be waiting there for you. something you had yearned for for far too many years…

[ennn]

Agatha and Rio as star-crossed lovers: Why a happy ending for them is unlikely (for now) but it'll be okay (probably?)

Look, I’m obsessed with these two—both their complex characters, their crazy unique dynamic—it’s a ship I actually can’t play favourites with!

BUT I also fully expect these two will fight it out in the finale and they aren’t headed for a happy ending, at least not a happy ending where they walk off happily into the sunset together at the end of this series and we shippers should maybe try to not freak out about it.

Let’s look at what the show is—in my opinion—telling us about these two. Under the cut for spoilers and my heap of meta thoughts–

Agatha’s arc is about her finding her coven, her community

I’ve written a bit more about the show’s and our protagonist's arc here: Basically underneath all that lust for power, Agatha’s deepest desire is to find a coven, a family of witches she can share her trials and blessings with. Agatha loves powerful witchcraft and she wants someone to share it with.

And she did find Rio. These two incredibly lonely women found each other, fell in love, and probably murdered their way through so many people together.

But then Agatha had a child and realised she could be a little bit less selfish for another human being. And then Rio took him away and they separated but i think they ultimately never dealt with what I think is at the heart of their rift now, of Agatha still having that bit of humanity and vulnerability for human connection in her.

Now of course at this point I don’t know what Rio’s deal is exactly. Is she human? Was she human? What happened in her past? What we do know is that Rio has a certain detachment from people, and that she enjoys watching Agatha kill witches.

Right now Agatha's getting a taste of what having a coven can be like. Something she's not had in centuries. Them working together, making magic together. That moment during the campfire where she realised they were laughing with her. The shared experience of riding those broomsticks.

Yes, covens—like any kind of family or community—can be good or bad. They can lift you up or tear you down. Agatha's first coven and mother failed her, we'll see how this one fares (especially after what we saw in episode 5). Will they be enough to bring out more of Agatha's humanity?

The thing is, Agatha is going on a bit of a character development journey and Rio—whose her world hasn't been rocked the same way Agatha's has—isn't.

Now I don't expect Agatha to turn over a new leaf by the end of the series but I expect her to be in a somewhat different place from where she started, and Rio I expect will not be in that same place. At least not by this series' end.

There is a certain tension at the end of episode 4 after Rio brings up the topic of "the boy". And again when Rio watches Agatha leave the cabin in episode 5. I think Rio is recognising that this isn't the Agatha she knew and first fell in love with many years ago, and she's not happy about it.

Agatha's moving in a direction Rio might not be able to follow, and I expect that's where we'll get our conflict down the road.

In a world without logistical limits, it's not impossible for these two to be together given enough time and character development (and hey that's what fic is for) but with 4 episodes remaining I expect we'll at best get more of a bittersweet resolution for them, after both of them finally let loose the anger they have at each other.

A closing of a chapter, I suppose, but not necessarily The End.

Agatha and Rio love each other, but they also bring out the worst in each other

It’s clear that these two have loved and do still have love for each other. That they found a special connection with each other that has maybe even saved one or the both of them before.

But they can also be standing in each other's way.

I'm reminded of these lines from Killing Eve:

I think my monster encourages your monster, right? I think I wanted it too.

Look, Agatha can't have a community if she keeps killing members of that community in the pursuit of power. Yes, with Rio around, it's terribly romantic: the two of them against the world. But what if Agatha actually wants to be a part of that world, even a little?

And as for Rio, now this is just my theory but it's possible Rio is perhaps too focused on the darker aspects of her role, of her power.

As The Green Witch, isn’t she meant to be more than Death?

I've been marvelling at all the details in Rio's nature-themed warrior witch outfit. It's beautiful, a celebration of life. She clearly has a strong connection with plants; there's a cute spider on her jacket; she's shown some ability to heal. Even her Death outfit has vines and roots forming her chest piece — what happened with Rio to make her hone in on spreading violence and death?

It just feels like there's a story there, to have her be The Green Witch as opposed to a more traditional or mainstream manifestation of a Death entity.

It's clear that these two came together and did monstrous things. There's usually reasons for that. Human or not, I suspect Rio has her own pain, one that's warping the balance of nature. Maybe they both need to heal in their own way, apart from each other.

This relationship is important to the show

Whatever happens, it's clear that this relationship is key to Agatha's story and the show. Their relationship, with its soft moments and sharp edges, filled much of the first episode on purpose and I expect it to play a major part in the finale as well – an appropriate bookend – including the fight between them.

You could even say that it's actually a good thing that these two are getting the focus at the show's start and end. It's always been Agatha and Rio: understanding each other, at each other's throats, pushing each other, tearing at each other, wanting but not meeting each other.

The thing about this being a "small stakes" show is that the cause of the fight happening between them can be very personal. A lovers' quarrel. Rio may simply want to kill Agatha for something she did, or in rage or fear of losing her.

On that note though, these two have such a long and complicated – and as Hahn once put it "toxic maybe but loving" – relationship that one big violent messy fight in itself doesn't worry me. I mean, we've all seen episode one.

Maybe sometimes you have to bleed to let the poison out.

This is still a love story.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

I kind of love how Zutara has two distinct ship dynamics

dynamic 1: “I will save you from the pirates,” enemies-to-lovers, Zuko is dangerous but sexy, bad boy x good girl, morally grey antihero, Dramione vibes etc

dynamic 2: Zuko is an awkward turtleduck, idiots-to-lovers, pining for your best friend, having each other’s backs, thinking she’s the coolest thing since sliced bread, Percabeth vibes etc

We can argue about which is the correct interpretation until the cows come home, but I love that the possibilities exist in the first place. From s1 to post-series headcanons there are such distinct stages in their relationship, and you can basically pick whichever point that appeals to you and run with it. There’s something for everyone. Yet another reason why they’re the best ship y���all

[kazodus]

hashtag when your two goats are in a panel together #win