#guess the cynicism would have helped here

[ssaalexblake]

it’s also baffling to me that tumblr, home of the ‘why are white men Still being cast as the doctor’ for So many years now (For you know, like over a decade.) is somehow not appalled that they hired a white dude to be the next Doctor because look okay it’s okay if it’s This white man. 

I mean, I do not consent to acknowledge that they’ve shoved him in there under any circumstance, but my Only need for the casting of the next person was that it was Not a white man, otherwise i didn’t care who it was, so when they “announced” Gatwa I was satisfied (i am hesitant to say they announced it bc it was more like a tiny footnote than an announcement, oh the disrespect) and it took a whole seven days (it was literally seven days. Yes i counted. it was easy since it was only seven days) it was ‘actually sorry no it’s this white dude we’ve already had before did we forget to mention that???’ and it’s steadily gotten worse and worse. 

That This site of all places is not up in arms about both the situation and how it specifically played out is depressing, but also massively and darkly hilarious.  

Especially since i Also remember nobody on this site thought casting Whittaker was good enough but literally going backward to a previous white man is?? This is not even a metaphor about diversity getting worse, they literally looked backwards. 

But, yeah,  tenn/ant with the ‘what the future looks like’ headline is uh... Good???? Not super worrying and ominous? 

I feel like i’ve been dumped in some weird parallel universe by reactions to all of this on here like??? the whole way this was done was appalling, the situation is appalling, but i guess the bbc/disney should get a rousing round of applause for accurately judging that nobody would care about their poor actions if the specific white guy they cast was popular enough that next to nobody would care. 

( and to the ‘it’s an anniversary ep’ thing, they legit could have just set a couple of eps in the past. i don’t mean they travel to the past. i mean just say ‘hey this ep is set during s4!’ and nobody would care. this show does weirder stuff than this every second episode. and it would still be bad, but how they did it is so much Worse.)

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), handjob, sub Loki, edging & overstimulation, forced submission kinda, hair pulling, a lil choking, I hope that's everything lol

Genre: smut and I guess fluff

Summary: You make Loki realize something about himself that he was not expecting to learn.

***

You plop down on the couch with your bowl of chips, getting comfortable to watch TV.

"Are you out here by yourself?" Loki's voice surprises you. You hadn't heard him come down the hall.

"Yeah." You glance at him over your shoulder with a shrug.

"Why?" His eyes narrow.

"I'm watching TV. You are familiar with that particular activity aren't you?"

"Yes I am, but why out here alone?" Loki rolls his eyes before sticking his head into the fridge.

"I wanted to leave my room. You're welcome to join me." You shrug.

"Why would I do that?" He scoffs.

"Believe it or not, some people enjoy doing things with other people in different spaces, you awkward little hermit." You roll your eyes. You walk over to the kitchen for a drink, realizing you forgot one.

"I am not a hermit." Loki crosses his arms. You grab a soda and walk over to Loki, leaning in close enough that he leans back suspiciously.

"This is the first time you've been out your room in like a week." You tell him.

"That is not true!" He steps away from you indignantly.

"It is, and that's fine. If that's how you like to live, I'm not judging you for it. But for me anyway, a change of scenery is good for the mind." You shrug walking back over to the couch.

"That doesn't make an ounce of sense."

"To each their own." You hum.

"You are a strange woman."

"Because I'm watching TV?" You tilt your head curiously.

"You spend your time so differently from everyone else here." He says.

"Yeah believe it or not I am an individual."

"That's not what I meant."

"No?"

"I just meant that most of the tower is left unoccupied from day to day, except you, you seem to- be everywhere." He frowns.

"If you're content never leaving your room that's fine, like I said I prefer a change of scenery. Helps mark the passage of time when we're not off saving the world." You shrug.

"There is next to nothing worth doing on this miserable planet."

"You are ridiculously negative." You chuckle, pressing play on your movie of choice for tonight. Clearly, this conversation with Loki is over, you have no interest in going back and forth about his cynicism. You hear him take a sharp breath, if you had to guess it's like one of those breaths you take before speaking but he doesn't say anything and eventually you hear his shoes along the floor and you smirk as you check that he is indeed gone.

It's not necessarily that you enjoy getting under Loki's skin the way you so obviously do, but it is rather easy and no one else speaks to him, which is kind of sad. To be clear you don't pity him, in fact this back and forth he reluctantly engages in is you refusing to treat him any different than you would anyone else on the team. It just so happens that he's easy to rile up and you find it funny but really this is just you being inclusive.

"You know y/n I don't get how you do it." Tony drunkenly says. It's supposed to be game night but after an hour Tony's of course too drunk to play so now you're all just talking.

"How I do what, Stark?" You ask.

"Deal with reindeer games the way you do."

"Reindeer ga- do you mean Loki?" You blink at him. You're not even sure how the group ended up on the subject, he's not here. How long were you checked out of the conversation?

"Yes obviously." He scoffs.

"It would be obvious if you used his name. Why are we talking about him, anyway?"

"Tony decided the next topic of conversation would be the team and somehow we got to how Loki is pretty much a recluse." Natasha explains to you.

"Exceeeept he talks to you. How does that work?" Tony asks.

"I dunno man I just poke fun at him like I do the rest of you and wait til he gets red in the face." You shrug.

"You mess with him on purpose?" Thor frowns.

"No, no! Not- really? He just, okay I don't try to get under his skin exactly, it's just when he engages with me, it seems like he expects hostility. I just give him back what I get from him and I don't think he knows how to handle that. But he keeps talking to me so I guess something about it gets through to him."

"That's very weird." Tony says.

"You're really in no place to judge Tony, we all know your list of idiosyncrasies is practically never ending." You roll your eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is idiosyncrasies too big a word for our resident mad scientist?" You ask.

"I know what the word idiotsinkities means." He scoffs.

"Right." You hum. The others burst into laughter at Tony's slurred attempt at defending himself. It seems to be enough to change the subject and the rest of the night proceeds without another weird interrogation- especially once Tony passes out.

You lean against the wall as you listen to this guy, Jack, talk. He's close enough for you to smell his cologne, mostly to be heard over the music and the crowd of partygoers. You laugh at some silly joke of his, because he's cute and you'll probably end up making out with him in a quiet corner of the tower later if he doesn't say something stupid before you make that decision. The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention from your conversation. Loki is standing there with his arms crossed and faced squeezed.

"Oh? Look who's come out to play." You muse.

"Do you know this guy?" Jack frowns.

"Jack, this is Loki, he's on the team. Loki this is my new friend Jack. Don't be rude, say hello." You nod your head towards Jack. Loki narrows his eyes as if sizing Jack up.

"Hey man. Nice to meet you." Jack puts his hand out to Loki.

"I don't shake hands." Loki says.

"Right- did you need something? We were, kind of talking."  Jack says.

"I don't care what you were doing." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Play nice Loki." You say, practically singing the warning.

"I'm not a dog." Loki glares at you.

"Well don't go around snarling like one." You snap.

"Is something- going on between you two?" Jack frowns.

"No." You say firmly.

"Alright well I'm going to get another drink, do you want anything?" He asks.

"Just you back here soon." You wink at him.

"I'll be as quick as I can." Jack kisses your cheek and walks off while Loki breathes incredibly noticeably agitated as he rolls his eyes ago.

"Alright Loki, what is your problem?" You scoff.

"He looks like a jungle cat."

"Really? I don't see jungle cat honestly, he kind of looks like a deer to me." You hum.

"Not in his appearance I mean the way he was closing in on you, like a lion waiting to attack a gazelle." He frowns.

"What? You don't think I can handle the big scary man Loki? Don't insult me, I've killed things that would eat him for an afternoon snack." You scoff.

"It's not that I think you can't handle him. Something about him was just- off. Didn't like his energy."

"Something was off? You didn't like his energy? Really that's what we're going with?" With a hand on his chest you press Loki against the wall.

"What else could I possibly be going with?" Loki tries to keep his voice steady, but with your hand now trailing down his abdomen you can feel muscles tensing under your touch.

"Truthfully I think somebody didn't quite enjoy seeing me pay so much attention to Jack. Don't worry Loki, he couldn't possibly replace you." You hum.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffs. You smirk as your hand dances lower and you watch him go stock still when your fingers trace along the waistband of his pants.

"You won't get anywhere by lying to me you know." You say. His mouth drops open slightly as you curl your fingers for your nails to gently caress his skin. "Do you want me to stop Loki?" You whisper in his ear teasingly. As if a bucket of ice water was dumped on him you watch Loki jump back out of your reach and clear his throat before walking off with a glare. You frown as you watch him go, perhaps you pushed too far this time. You think you need to apologize. You start to make your way through the crowd and somehow get caught by Jack.

"Hey, where are you off to?" He asks.

"Looking for you actually, I need a bathroom but I didn't want you to think I was leaving you hanging. If you go back to our little corner I will find you again shortly, alright?" You tap his chest and bat your eyelashes before spinning away from him to continue your task of tracking Loki down. You pop into the nearest empty room.

"Friday, where the hell did Loki go?" You ask her. The tower is huge and since you lost sight of him while talking to Jack it could take you forever to find him on your own.

"He's on the Balcony lounge at the end of the hall upstairs." Friday tells you.

"Thank you!" You tell her, heading for the stairs. Sure enough, there's Loki brooding on the balcony by himself. You slide open the door and Loki's head whips around. When his eyes settle on you, they narrow.

"I've had it with your games tonight." He says.

"No games. I actually wanted to apologize." You say.

"For what?" He regards you suspiciously.

"If I went too far just now. I'm never trying to make you uncomfortable with the teasing. If I crossed a line I want you to know I wasn't trying to and I respect your boundaries." You say gently.

"You think that made me uncomfortable?" He scoffs.

"Well you did quite literally run away."

"You do realize I'm a god, don't you?"

"So what?" You shrug.

"People worship me y/n."

"People worship me too Loki. Shall I start calling myself a goddess?" You cross your arms.

"Of course not." Loki looks at you incredulously.

"Well I'm just saying darling if you're quantifying your power here by being worshiped there are people who would tell you I am the path to heaven. Or, I suppose for you it would be Valhalla, right?" You tilt your head.

"That's rather presumptuous."

"Don't misunderstand here. I never asked them to deify me but who am I to deny those who believe I know the entrance heaven's gate?"

"And where is that?"

"Heaven's gate?" You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow up at him. "I don't think you can handle the answer to that question Loki, truthfully."

"You have no idea what I can handle." He frowns.

"I'm sure you're very capable honey but you've made it clear that you and I have... very different types." You say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The frown deepens.

"Why did you run off? If you weren't uncomfortable, what made you run and hide?" You ask.

"How does this pertain to my question?" Loki shakes his head.

"My question is the answer to yours."

"I don't follow."

"Answer the question, and I'll offer an explanation." You say. Loki lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

"Your behavior, is disarming."

"And you don't like being disarmed?" You tilt your head.

"It's not something I'm used to."

"Right." You hum.

"So?"

"So?"

"You said if I answered you'd explain the connection." Loki says.

"I like disarming people. It's something I do quite well, and often. You don't seem too fond of that. Which- obviously wouldn't work."

"It's something you do well with mortals. I'll remind you I'm a god."

"So you've said but I did it pretty well to you like five minutes ago." You shrug.

"You caught me off guard." He frowns.

"It's not like I couldn't do it again."

"That's a rather bold assumption. One that I'm inclined to disagree with." His brow furrows.

"That's cute." You chuckle.

"I'm not so easily frazzled as your pathetic midgardian males." Loki insists.

"What just happened does not support that claim, but your insistence is exactly what I'm talking about when I say you're not my type. Putting you in your place would be so much trouble." You shrug.

"Putting me in my place?! On the contrary darling I would have you begging me. You'd call me king."

"What do I care for a king when there people who call me their god?" You scoff tugging at Loki's shirt to bring his face closer to yours. "Do you get it yet Loki? You want control and I'm unwilling to give it. You think too small to ever command me."

"You don't know that." His eyes narrow.

"Your breathing stuttered when I grabbed your shirt. Plus there's not a creature in all the nine realms thinking big enough to command me darling. Don't worry it's not just you." You wink at him pulling back and turning away from him to leave.

"Your attitude is insufferable." Loki growls grabbing your wrist and pinning you against the building with a hand around your throat.

"Is it?" You smile trailing your fingers from his wrist up his arm. You watch his jaw tense as his eyes snap between your face and your hand a couple of times before his gaze settles on you. His grip on your neck tightens as your fingers reach his shoulder. There, you shoot your hand quickly into his hair, fisting a handful of it and yanking, hard. Loki's head snaps back and his knees almost buckle as a strangled moan escapes from him. Your other hand grabs his wrist attached to the hand on your neck, his grip has loosened to practically nothing from your sudden hair pull but this is about power and control and if he's determined to convince you he's got some here you're determined to ensure he knows that's not true. "Let go Loki." You say in that sultry commanding tone you usually reserve for submissives. Slowly, his fingers unfurl until they no longer hold you and you finally release his hair, only to knock his ankle in such a way that he drops to his knees. He snaps his head up towards you with a glare in his eyes but all you do is smirk at him. "Shame you're such a brat, you look so good on your knees for me." You hum tilting his chin slightly. You lean forward, close enough to feel his heavy breaths against your face. "Goodnight Loki." You whisper. You drag your finger from his chin up his cheek and then turn away, leaving him on his knees on the balcony with more questions than he can answer as you return to the party.

The loud knock on your bedroom door pulls your attention from the show you're watching. You almost don't want to get up but whoever is looking for you seems rather incesent so you roll out of bed and swing open the door to find Loki in the hall.

"Loki? What are you doing here?" You cross your arms and lean against your doorframe.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Look whatever Tony said to upset you, you can always get him back by calling out that he's a spoiled brat with daddy issues and a lack of self control so embarrassingly pathetic it's a miracle Pepper wants to be within 10 feet of him let alone spend the rest of her life with him." You sigh.

"That was- scathing and rather immediate, do you just spend your free time thinking of nasty things to say?" Loki blinks at you.

"No but I do have an arsenal of harsh comments if ever I need to hurt someone's feelings." You shrug.

"I'll- keep that in mind but this isn't about Anthony Stark." He shakes his head.

"Well, what is it then?"

"Could I- do you mind if come in?" He asks. You poke your head into your room checking for anything you don't want him to see.

"Fine." You say after confirming your room is clean. You open the door fully and let him through the doorway. "What's this about Loki?"

"The party the other night. Do you, remember what we talked about?" Loki asks.

"Well yes but you'll need to be more specific on where this is going."

"I just, I've been thinking about it and I think you're wrong and I'd like to prove it to you."

"Oh this should be good. Wrong about what exactly? Because I think I made myself quite clear. You'll never get the control from me that you seem to think you want." You shrug.

"No that much is obvious. But you said I wasn't your type and I think that's- not true." Loki's brow furrows as he speaks.

"What a shocking turn of events." You hum.

"Do not mock me." He sighs.

"I'm not. You were so insistent you couldn't possibly fit the bill I'm surprised by the turn around."

"Believe me so am I but, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night. Something about you forcing me to my knees I just- something happened."

"Something happened?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"You disarmed me again but- I liked it. I think. And I'd like to try and understand that."

"Say it Loki."

"You said your partners worship you, show me how to do the same." Loki says.

"And you're sure you want this? If you misbehave I can be very mean."

"I'm sure." He nods.

"Then we'll have to discuss some things first. I won't touch you until I've asked some questions." You shake your head.

"Ask me anything."

"How do you feel about restraints?"

"No handcuffs. Ropes are fine."

"How are you with pain?"

"I don't know my limits but I'm not- opposed." He says.

"I'm not going to paddle you or anything darling it's much too soon for any of that but we'll use a stoplight system anyway. I'll check in frequently but at any point you can say yellow if you realize you're reaching a limit or red if you need something to stop. You'll also need a safeword."

"I don't need a safewor-"

"I don't know your limits, you don't even know your limits. It's a nonnegotiable Loki, you need a safeword. Pick one." You say.

"If I must, I'll use another color. Gold."

"Gold?"

"It's easy to say, I wear it a lot, do you think it'll get confusing?"

"Nope. As long as it's something you can remember." You shrug.

"I can remember gold." He says.

"Then gold it is. And Loki?"

"Yes?"

"You must promise me you will use it if you need to." You say.

"I won't need to."

"Don't start with that nonsense." You roll your eyes. "I need to know you'll use it if it comes to that."

"Fine. If it comes to that, I'll use it." He nods.

"Good. Couple more components. Overstimulation and or edging. Where do you fall?"

"I think you underestimate my resilience." He frowns.

"These are things I ask all of my submissives Loki you are not exempt. Not everyone likes the same things. You're lucky I'm not making you fill out my entire questionaire right now. You'll have to do that later." You scoff.

"I have homework already?"

"If you want this to continue after today you will. For now, overstimulation and edging."

"That's fine with me."

"Toys?"

"Can we- hold off on those until we have a longer conversation about it?"

"Absolutely. How do you feel about names? Do you like being called mean things? Are there certain pet names you don't like?"

"When you say mean things-" Loki trails.

"Mean names like slut or whore, I might scold you for 'making a mess', or tease you for being responsive."

"If- you say something that strikes a nerve I'll say so. Otherwise proceed whatever way feels natural." He says.

"Do you have any questions?" You ask.

"No." He shakes his head.

"Well that's the end of the preliminaries."

"So we can start now?"

"You think you're ready?"

"Yes."

"Kneel."

Loki drops to his knees hesitently, looking at you with wide eyes.

"From here on you'll address me as mistress, is that understood?"

"Yes... mistress." Loki says. You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide how he feels about it.

"I know I said this the other night but you really do look so perfect on your knees for me." You hum grabbing his chin. You wrap your fingers around his throat and bend over to kiss him. Loki reacts eagerly to your kiss, leaning up into you as much as you'll allow given your hand still holding his neck. When you pull away his mouth tries to follow yours but you hold him in place. Part of you just wants to look at Loki on his knees for a couple of hours, one day you'll tie him up real pretty and take pictures of him kneeling for you. "You want to learn how to worship me do you?"

"Please mistress." Loki breathes out. God that was hot. You're already thinking of ways to make him beg. You pull your shorts off and Loki's gaze falls to the apex of your thighs, still covered by your underwear, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Take my underwear off, with your teeth. Just your teeth." You tell him. Loki leans forward and latches onto a corner of your panties with his teeth. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it but you watch as Loki works them over your hips slowly. Once they're off, you thread your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to angle his gaze back up to yours. "Let's see if that silver tongue of yours is good for anything other than those silly retorts of yours hm?" You hum shoving Loki's face towards your pussy. He reacts quickly, tongue lapping at your center with fervor. You tug at his hair, arching towards his mouth, as he works you.

"That's it Loki, keep going." You moan. Loki looks up at you while he seemingly tries out a few patterns, trying to work out what you like best. You pull his hair when he does something you like, enjoying the way he groans when you do. "Wrap your lips around my clit and suck." You tell him. Loki is quick to follow your instructions and it doesn't take long for you to coat his mouth in evidence of your orgasm. You pull his head away from you, petting his head affectionately. "That was a good start. Up. Lay on the bed and take off your shirt." You instruct stepping back. Unsteadily, Loki stands up and walks over to your bed, stripping his shirt before he lays down. His body is stiff, probably since your instruction was vauge.

"Relax Loki. You look so- rigid." You chuckle sitting next to him on the bed. You allow yourself to simply admire his exposed chest, using your fingers to trace the plains and valleys of lean muscle that tense up at your touch. Eventually, you drag your hand down, dancing along the edge of his pants allowing the anticipation to build before you slip your hand beneath his jeans. Over his boxers, you stroke his dick, tracing veins and feeling it's size through his underwear.

"Uh... M-mistress?" He says breathily.

"What is it Loki?" You hum, with your free hand you work his jeans down his legs enough to see what you're doing to him. His grey boxers are already a bit darkened from pre-cum.

"If, if you keep doing that I'm- I'm afraid I'll make a mess of myself rather early." Loki frowns.

"So what?"

"W-well it's it's embarrassing mistress." He says, though little grunts interrupt his words.

"Embarrassing? So you don't want me to touch you?" You ask slowing your movements.

"N-no mistress that's not what, I do, want you to touch me. If that's what you want to do." He scrambles.

"See that's what I thought." You say speeding up again. Loki jerks against your hand low moans filling the room as you watch him react to your touch. You continue to stroke him over his boxers, watching the darkened spot of pre-cum grow ever so slightly bigger. You notice immediately when Loki's hands grip your sheets tightly. He must be getting close. It prompts you to increase your ministrations.

"M-mistress wa-wait stop I, I'm too close- I'll ruin my-" Loki doesn't finish his sentence. A shuddering moan accompanies the visual of his orgasm darkening most of the front of his boxers, wet streaks ruining much of the light grey fabric. There's something you quite enjoy about the sight even as Loki's cheeks tinge pink with shame. "I'm sorry." He mutters.

"Don't apologize. I wanted that to happen. As for the rest of your orgasms you'll have to earn them. You must ask for my permission to cum for the rest of the session. If you cum without my permission there will be consequences. Am I understood?" You grab his chin to make him look at you.

"Yes mistress." Loki says, eyes wide, searching your face, for what you're not sure.

"Good." You say pulling his dick out of his soiled boxers. You lick along the length once, reveling in the hiss Loki lets out no doubt from sensitivity. His previous orgasm makes for plenty of lubricant as you begin stroking him again, slowly. Loki's breaths come out in shudders and you lean over to place kisses and hickeys along his throat. Each bloom of red along his neck and chest pulls sweet moans from him until the sensitivity wears off. Soon, surprisingly soon, you see him grab the sheets again.

"Mistress I, I'm close-"

"So soon? Wow." You taunt.

"Can I cum mistress?"

"But before you didn't want to. Remember? You even asked me to stop." You slow down, almost stopping.

"No nonono that was- that was different I didn't mean it that way-" he seems to give up on his defense in favor of a groan at the sudden decrease in stimulation.

"Well, I was so kind in giving you the first one and you didn't even thank me. So you'll have to really convince me you want another." You shrug when his harsh breathing slows a bit you pick up the pace of your strokes again. When Loki grips the sheets you slow down again and when the tension dissipates you pick up. You do this three or four more times before Loki's moans start to transform in to pathetic sounding whines, his chest is red, his knuckles are white, and his dick is throbbing in your hand.

"Please- mistress." Loki pants.

"Please what baby boy?"

"I can't- I can't do it. I need to cum, I need to, please. Please mistress."

"You need to?"

"Please! Please mistress. Please let me cum. Oh god I need you to. Please." Loki's begging is boarderline hysteric, he's trembling and half of his words come out as moans.

"I do love to hear you beg."

"Please!" He whines out.

"Oo that was a good one. Very well, go ahead and let go for me sweetheart." You say sweetly, stroking faster to help him along. A few pumps later and he's spilling onto himself and your hand with a cry that makes your walls clench around nothing. You continue stroking him through it and even after he's coming down. You wonder if you can't pull one more from him. Loki jolts against your touch, scrambling as if to escape it but unable to go anywhere really.

"G-g-gold! Gold. I can't. Please." Loki pants out.

"Hands up." You say as you do exactly that. "Sorry Lo I- guess I got carried away. I'll get a towel for you." You get off the bed and grab a towel, wetting one side to clean him off and using the other to dry him after. You hand him an extra blanket after. "Give yourself some time to recoup okay?"

"You're cruel."

"I wasn't trying to be. You just- fell into your role so well. I told you I'm not easy. But I'll remember you're still new to this and be sure to treat you gently in the future. Mr. you underestimate my resillience."

"I can handle it."

"With time I'm sure. No rush now." You shrug.

"Wait- don't go anywhere please." Loki grabs your wrist.

"You need water honey."

"Later." Loki tugs hard enough to pull you into the bed next to him. You sigh and wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair gently. Loki will make for one interesting submissive if he decides this is something he wants long term. You'll have your work cut out for you, but maybe he's better suited for this than you think. Only time will tell I suppose.

***

[hvnyrt]

Voice in the Wind - ALTERNATE ENDING

JASON TODD X READER

I have never really written angst before, and I was really happy with the way my last work came out, but I couldn't help but want the reader and Jason to end up together in the end ;’) So I wrote a quick alternate ending to the same work, a happy ending this time, enjoy!

SUMMARY: Jason has been struggling with the idea of a relationship, fighting inner battles with himself constantly, you convince him to open up.

The rooftop of a Gotham skyscraper was cold beneath Jason Todd’s boots. His breath formed small clouds in the air, the city’s ever-present hum a background noise to his thoughts. He stood facing the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the streets below. It was late — or early, depending on how you looked at it — and the city was bathed in a sickly orange glow from the streetlights. Gotham was always awake, like a predator that never rested, and Jason… Jason was just another hunter in its maze of shadows.

He was trying to focus. ‘Focus, Todd,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t be weak. Stay sharp.’ But there was a problem. Your face kept slipping into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to shove it away, there you were again, with that crooked smile and those damn eyes that could cut straight through his walls.

Your voice rang in his ears. He hated your voice because it followed him everywhere, like an earworm he couldn’t get rid of. And your name. He hated your name because it made him feel like he could say it, like he could speak it aloud and claim it, and he didn’t want to claim anything. Not You. 

"She’s just a distraction," he muttered under his breath, the words lost in the wind. "Just a damn distraction." 

Except you werent. He knew it. 

He didn’t know how you had got under his skin, but you had. It had started innocently enough: a few random meetings while he was on patrol, a conversation here and there. But then something shifted. Something he couldn’t control, couldn’t shake. It wasn’t that he wanted to care about you; he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he knew better, when he was haunted by the ghosts of his past mistakes. People like him didn’t get to have things like that. People like him didn’t get to have… normal.

It was so fucking frustrating. 

"Stupid." Jason spat the word out as if it could wash away the thoughts, the feelings he didn’t want to deal with. There was no place for feelings in the world he lived in. It was all blood and violence, adrenaline and fear, and you… you were none of that. You were calm. Grounded. Real. You made him feel like he wasn’t constantly running from something.

Nope. Not happening.

"Jason?"

The voice broke through his internal tirade, familiar and warm, cutting through the cold like a blade. Jason didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. But his heart did a strange little lurch. He hated that it did, but it did.

There you were, standing a few feet away, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield against the Gotham night. You didn’t even seem to notice how out of place you were up here — on this rooftop, so far above the city you loved but could never truly understand. You weren't like him. Never would be.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, his tone as dismissive as he could manage. "Go home, It’s dangerous up here."

Your eyes flickered with that same mixture of concern and defiance he was growing all too familiar with. "And I’m guessing you’re worried about me?" you said, your voice laced with quiet amusement.

Jason’s lip curled slightly, though it wasn’t a smile. More like a reflex. “I worry about everyone, you're no different.” He said flatly, his back still turned.

But even as he said it, the doubt crept in. You had a way of doing that — making him second-guess every cynical, hardened part of himself that wanted to pretend he didn’t care. But he didn’t let it show. He never did.

"I’m not helpless." you said softly, stepping a little closer, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you. "You don’t need to protect me. You don't have to worry me. Just please, tell me what's on your mind. Talk to me. Let me in." You wanted him so bad to just admit that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You tried too hard to get him to open up to you, to get him to see what your relationship could be. He never listened.

The words hit him harder than they should have. He wanted to argue, to push you away again. You didn’t understand. You didn’t get what the world was really like, what it could do to someone like him. Someone who had already been destroyed once, who didn’t want to give it a second chance.

Instead, he just shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I’m not your protector. Just someone who knows better."

You raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So you’re telling me I shouldn’t be out here, too, but you’re not protecting me?" 

Jason didn’t answer. His gaze drifted away from her, back to the city lights, to the shadows below. But he didn’t walk away. He never did.

"You really think I can’t handle myself?" Your voice was quieter now, and for a moment, it almost sounded like you were teasing. Almost. 

Jason let out a breath, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "You think you’re the only one who can handle themselves?" He turned his head just enough to catch her gaze. "This place doesn’t make you stronger. It makes you smarter. And if you’re not smart enough to get the hell out of it, you’ll get crushed. And that’s not something I’m willing to let happen."

The words left his mouth sharper than he’d intended, but he couldn’t stop them now. He never could when it came to you. 

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him with those damn eyes that felt like they saw straight through his bullshit. Then, slowly, you took a step closer, not intimidated, but calm.

"Jason, you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not going anywhere."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, though he’d never admit it. "I’m not pretending," he muttered, too quickly, and too defensively. 

The city stretched out beneath them, vast and indifferent, like a black sea dotted with the flickering lights of a thousand lives he would never touch. Jason stood there, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. You were still beside him, too close for comfort, your presence a constant reminder of everything he couldn’t afford to feel. 

Focus, he told himself. Don’t let her in. Don’t let her do this to you.

But it was already too late.

You were right. He was pretending. 

Jason’s jaw tightened at the thought, and he could feel the familiar coldness creeping in — the walls he had built so carefully around himself, the ones that were starting to crack and crumble under your quiet, persistent gaze. The feeling of wanting to reach for you, of wanting to say the things that scared him more than anything else in this broken city, gnawed at him like a sickness. 

But no. He couldn’t do it. Not to you. Not again.

"You don’t get it," Jason said, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He didn’t look at you, but he could feel you staring at him, that soft gaze that always seemed to see straight through him. "This isn’t… this isn’t some fairy tale. You can’t just waltz in here and fix me. I’m not… I’m not someone you can save. You don’t know what it’s like, and you never will."

He finally turned to face you, his eyes burning with something he couldn’t even name. "I’m dangerous. And you think you can handle me? You think you can be around me and still come out unscathed? You have no idea what this world does to people like us."

You didn’t back down. Of course you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you stepped closer, her voice low but steady. "I know enough, Jason. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to push me away—"

"Stop," Jason cut you off, his voice sharp, almost desperate. He took a step back, as if your proximity was suffocating him. "Stop pretending like you know me. Like you understand anything about me."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Jason, I—"

"I’m not the guy you think I am!" He didn’t shout, but his voice trembled with the raw emotion he refused to show. "I’m not the guy you can fix. You think I don’t care about you? That I don’t—" He stopped himself, the words lodged in his throat like broken glass. He could already feel the heat in his chest, the thumping of his heart, the same damn pain that had been there since he came back from the dead. 

His fists clenched tighter. "I’m not your fucking hero. I’m a killer. A broken, fucked-up, damaged thing, and you don’t want to get close to that."

The words came out in a rush, desperate, but also… final. His eyes were wild now, the storm inside him too strong to ignore, the war he’d been fighting with himself spilling out in a way he hadn’t intended. 

You stood there, silent for a moment, your face unreadable. Then your expression softened, a mixture of hurt and understanding flickering behind your eyes.

"I’m not trying to fix you," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air between them. "I’m just trying to be here. I’m trying to be someone you don’t have to push away."

Jason didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. The words felt too raw, too close to something real. And that scared him more than anything. 

"You don’t understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You can’t understand. I can’t let you in. Not like this. Not after everything."

He took another step back, further into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. Every instinct in him screamed to get away from you, to run, to push you out of his life before you were swallowed up by the darkness he carried with him.

"Jason," your voice was quiet now, soft, like you were trying to reach him through the thick walls he had built. "Please."

But he couldn’t do it. Not for you.

Jason shook his head, more to himself than to you. He turned his back on you, the weight of his decision heavy in the pit of his stomach. His feet moved automatically, the thought of staying with you—of letting you see him, really see him—was too much to bear. 

Before he could even reach the edge of the rooftop, he heard your voice again, fragile but clear.

"You don’t have to do this alone."

He froze. For a second, everything inside him wanted to turn around, to reach for you, to tell you how much he wanted to believe that. How much he wanted to let you in. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let anyone in.

Jason's gaze lingered on the skyline, the weight of the city pressing down on him. His fists were still clenched, his jaw set tight, but inside, a storm was brewing, one that was just as chaotic as the one in the streets below. His heart was a mess of confusion and fear, and even though he wanted to push you away — needed to push you away — something about your quiet presence beside him made it feel impossible.

When you spoke again, your voice was gentle, almost like a whisper, yet it cut through the thick air between you with the clarity of truth. "You don't have to do this alone, Jason."

His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he could barely breathe. He’d heard those words before, but never with the kind of sincerity that made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the universe. That maybe, just maybe, there was someone who saw through his walls, someone who wasn’t afraid of the darkness he carried.

He shook his head, his voice rough, trying to hold onto the hardness that kept him safe. "I told you, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like."

"I don’t need to," you replied softly. "I just need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Not if you let me stay."

Jason’s heart pounded in his chest, the words stirring something deep inside of him, something that scared him more than anything. He wanted to say something — push you away, explain why this couldn’t happen, why he couldn’t let you in.

But the words stuck in his throat.

You took a step closer, not backing down, but not rushing him either. And for the first time, in the midst of all the noise inside his head, he realized that you weren’t asking him to fix himself. You were just asking him to be real. To stop pretending. To let you in.

Without thinking, without even fully knowing what he was doing, Jason reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours. The proximity felt like a tug, a pull he couldn’t ignore. You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you stood there, looking at him with those eyes that had always been so damn patient, so damn sure.

And in that moment, something inside Jason broke open — a crack in the walls that had kept him safe for so long. He didn’t need to pretend anymore.

He moved before he could stop himself.

One step, then two, and suddenly, he was close enough to feel your breath against his skin, close enough that he could see the way your lips parted slightly, as though you were holding your own breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

And then, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you, Jason closed the gap.

His lips brushed against yours in a slow, tentative kiss, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pressed any harder. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, your hand reached up, cupping the side of his face, and you kissed him back, steady and sure.

Jason’s heart skipped a beat, his mind racing, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The tension that had held him captive for so long unraveled, piece by piece, until all that was left was this — you, here with him, unafraid.

He kissed you deeper this time, a soft but desperate need in the way his mouth met yours. The world felt a little less heavy, like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry the weight of it all on his own anymore.

When the kiss finally broke, Jason’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing in the same air, your hearts syncing in a way that made everything else fade into the background. He didn’t say anything at first. He couldn’t. But the words he didn’t have to speak were already there — in the way his hands found your waist, in the way his body relaxed against yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, his voice rough with the admission. "Scared I’m not… enough. That I’m too broken for anyone to be here. To be what you need."

You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around him, grounding him with the warmth of your touch. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me, Jason. That’s more than enough.”

His chest tightened at your words, the sincerity of them striking deep. He wasn’t used to hearing that — wasn’t used to anyone seeing him for who he really was, not the mask he wore to survive, not the monster he sometimes thought he was.

But you did.

He let out a breath, the weight of everything in him finally beginning to lift. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jason closed his eyes, his heart a little lighter than before. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe he didn’t have to be the hero, or the villain, or the broken man he always saw in the mirror.

Maybe he just needed to be someone who didn’t have to face the world alone.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jason realized that he wasn’t as lost as he thought. Not anymore.

For the first time in a long time, he was ready to face whatever came next.

And he was ready to face it with you.

[matan4il]

Today's update post will be dedicated to the lawsuit that South Africa (SA) submitted to the International Court of Justice (ICJ, the UN's judicial arm), with the discussion held this coming Thursday. I first wrote about it here.

Why is SA suing Israel specifically for the crime of genocide, and not for the easier to prove ('coz it doesn't involve intent) charge of committing war crimes? Well, because Israel has signed the international convention for the prevention of genocide. It actually signed it pretty early on, in 1949. Just 4 years after the end of the Holocaust (it applies to Israel since 1951). What signing this convention means, is that even if Israel isn't committing a genocide, and SA knows it isn't, SA also knows the only way to drag Israel to the ICJ is to accuse it of this crime, so... surprise! SA did.

Curiously, it turns out that the Palestinian Authority (PA) has secretly been helping SA with filing this lawsuit (as reported on Jan 6, on Kan News, source in Hebrew). The PA has a right to sue Israel at the ICJ, but it might be using SA as a proxy, because it is afraid of being sued itself (it can, as an idea, be sued for financially supporting the genocidally motivated actions of Hamas, due to its "pay for slay" program, where the PA pays Palestinians salaries for their terrorist activities, and the pay is greater the more lethal the attack. Because yes, the PA will be paying salaries for the Oct 7 massacre, despite it being carried out by Hamas, the Palestinian Islamic Jihad and other terrorists), and I guess they think the best defense is an offense. Also, by having SA file the lawsuit for them, the PA is making sure another country will be drawing all of the fire for it, such as the condemnation from the US, calling the lawsuit "counterproductive" and "not based on facts," which was issued against SA, not against the PA.

Also, weirdly it seems that the issue of intent, which should make the lawsuit more difficult to prove, is actually what most of the case is based on!? The lawsuit is less about what Israel has been doing, and more about quotes from Israeli officials, that supposedly expose genocidal intent. Many of these quotes are presented in a misleading way, stuff like omitting that the quotes were clearly in reference to obliterating Hamas, presented them instead as if these Israeli officials were talking about obliterating the Palestinians.

So basically, SA is guilty of precisely the first point I was making in this post, conflating Hamas with the Palestinians, but only when it can be used to attack the Jewish state.

I watched an interesting panel held about this subject, and one legal expert said the right thing to do, would be for the ICJ to point out that SA is abusing the court for cynical political purposes, that its lawsuit doesn't meet the minimal requirements to be filed, making it very obvious that they're just weaponizing the court and abusing its power to hound Israel, and for this, the lawsuit should be thrown out immediately, without even getting to trial. Another participant, a former Israeli diplomat to the UN, said that yes, that's what should be done. But this lawsuit will allow the judges to rule on the most burning subject on the global agenda these days, so they won't throw the case out and condemn SA for filing this frivolous lawsuit.

Another panelist suggested that Israel should go on the offense, and point out at the ICJ, that by virtue of SA being financially supported and invested in by Iran, and thus unsurprisingly supporting the Islamist Iranian regime, which is the one that financed Hamas' activity (including the massacre of Oct 7, and the recently exposed attempts to target Jewish institutes in Europe), it's actually SA that is supporting the genocide of the Jews. I doubt this is the line of defense Israel will take, but it's an interesting point to keep in mind.

In conclusion, regarding what this false lawsuit really means:

SA's lawsuit basically seeks to rob the Jewish state of the right to defend its population against a genocidal threat. That is INSANE. It is, in practice, pro-genocide, and insane that it's even entertained.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[danieyells]

I don't know if you've done it yet but I would like to request Ren lines? I'm having tokyo debunker Ren brainrot bro 😭.

@otomelover23

You're all very welcome! I love you guys too, so far! Sorry you've been deprived of lazy boi lolol HOPEFULLY THESE SATISFY YOU A LITTLE BIT.

He's a little tsundere I think. He's one of those characters who just wants to be normal but he can't just pretend to be normal because he lives surrounded by chaos so he just complains a lot lolol. . .but i think he's a good guy. Aside from that he does not help his mother captain at all.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Great, shift change. I'm gonna head out then... What? Do I really need to be here for that?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"I think you've got a notification... Aren't you going to look at it?"

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Who did I disappoint in a past life to end up in Jabberwock... There's no general students or even a single other sane person, and these jumpsuits are a crime..."

"Why do I have to look after all these weird-ass animals? This is forced labor...  Ugh, they're so gross..."

"If you're just gonna stand there, could you go feed the animals in the aquatic zone?  I'm too busy."

"Ugh, why is that clown calling me... ... Whatever, I'll just let it ring out."

you know damn well that if you don't answer the phone you're gonna have to deal with Haru in person. Better to just answer it.

"Oh, hey... Could you open the link I sent you? No, you don't have to sign up or anything. Thanks."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Ugh... Tell me how I'm supposed to sit through classes when I've been up since 4 AM? (yawn) I'm exhausted..."

well if you didn't stay up until 4am--oh who am i kidding i stayed up til like 3 watching a stream and reading datamine stuff and then I got up at like 6:30 to get ready for work I'm no better kekw.

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Ugh... I can't believe I'm hiding right now... Why the hell does that clown have to chase me around at lunch time too?"

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Preach about doing it for the sake of your friends or the animals or whatever all you want— I really don't give a shit. People who say that stuff are just deluding themselves."

i've known people with this kind of cynicism before. once he finds people care about him and a little more stability he'll come around a little more.

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? I can't see that clown anywhere... Hell yes. Gonna get through my watch list. I hope he never comes back."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm grinding this game on my phone, so could you not talk to me for a while? Crap, I think my RSI is flaring up..."

in Japanese he specifies tendonitis haha

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Don't people get embarrassed calling out those words when they use their stigmas? It makes them look like LARPers..."

in japanese he says they sound like they have chuunibyou which is much funnier imo lmao. also i guess that means he can say his in his head? since he'd feel embarrassed doing it aloud, maybe he's practiced already lol

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You think I sigh a lot? Got a problem with that? You realize trying to take away people's freedom of speech is power harrassment, right?"

you're starting to sound like ritsu. gonna hurt yourself reaching like that.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm so done... I'm out of HP... Shouldn't I be exempt from missions and classes since I'm looking after all those animals?"

well based on one of Haku's chats, you can just do missions if you don't go to class, and based on Kaito you can just go to class instead of doing missions. . .but I'm sure Haru forces him on missions anyway lol. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Pfft... The video of that clown getting attacked by that hawk thing is getting so many interacts. This editing thing's actually pretty fun."

does editing count as a creative effort? i wouldn't be surprised if he switched to Hotarubi next year if so, assuming he doesn't get used to Jabberwock and the animals. Also why didn't he get stopped by Sophy for uploading a video with an anomaly? Unless he uploaded it to an Institute social media site like WickHive or something. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Gotta change the locks so that clown can't get in again. I've bought enough padlocks to start my own business by now..."

life haru finds a way. sometimes that way is "towa, break down the door" if he runs out of lockpicking equipment.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"My head's killing me... This is the worst... Rise and shine! my ass... It's basically still the middle of the night. Guess I should padlock my windows..."

5-6am I can understand being 'basically the middle of the night' but after that you're pushing it lmao

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The cafeteria's way over capacity... The assholes who save seats before its even noon are ruining it for everyone else..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Why's my pay so low... huh? What's this deduction for? "Consultation Fee: Ritsu Shinjo..." He's seriously charging me for complaining...?"

Ritsu charges for looking at him too long. i'd try venting on wickhive over complaining to Ritsu.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That rabbit sure has it good. All it has to do is breathe and everyone fawns over it. Doesn't even have to feed itself. Just wait till it grows up and learns what the world's really like."

WELL BASED ON THAT THE ADULT PEEKABOO WAS STILL BEING FAWNED OVER AND HARU HAD TO STOP PEOPLE FROM PETTING IT BECAUSE IT BITES. . .IT'LL PROBABLY STILL HAVE IT GOOD. Haru takes good care of the animals.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Sup... Huh? I'm alone today. I just got up on my own since if I don't that clown'll wake me up anyway."

yeah? it's because of haru? not because of your affinity with the pc being more than half so you wanna be up earlier to spend more time with them? sure.

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oof, nearly missed the noon raid...  Not like I'll have any time to myself once I get back to the dorm, so I guess I should do it now..."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"No, I'm not going to sleep yet. I'm gonna watch a horror B-movie. You don't have to think, so they're the perfect thing to watch before bed."

i used to watch/listen to mts3k to go to sleep so. i feel this.

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Well done me for surviving another day... Oh, same to you too, {PC}. I don't how you can do this stuff voluntarily."

SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE ANIMALS DAWG.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? I'm going to the campus store to buy some stuff, where are you going? Well, I'm going that way, so...bye."

not sure if shy or asocial lmao. could be both!

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're being forced to help out again? Wow, a doormat out in the wild. So? Where do you want me to carry all this food?"

he's helping you even though he doesn't wanna work. HE'S GOT IT BAD.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"This? It's a video I uploaded. People seem really into it. It's of that clown getting chased by a dog and flailing around like one of those inflatable air dancers."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What am I doing today? Working at the diner. Oh, if you want to keep me company, feel free to come by. As long as you serve yourself."

it's not a date or anything since he's at work but like. . .he is inviting you to hang out. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? You were waiting for me to get off work? Oh... Thanks. Wait, that clown put you up to this?! I'm gonna kill him..."

NO NO WE CAME HERE WILLINGLY probably. although it does seem like Haru to be like "oh hey Ren really really likes you, you should go pick him up from work! he'd love that!!" like a real nosy mom who's trying to get his son together with his crush.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"When did it get this late? That was horrifyingly fast... I'll walk part of the way back with you. I was gonna go buy something to drink anyway..."

excuses, excuses. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Every day here is a fresh hell, sure, but... You're suffering through it with me, so I guess I'll stick it out a little longer..."

'this sucks but you make it suck a little(a lot) less so i can keep going'. yep, that's our tsundere alright!

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That clown's even more slap-happy than usual lately—it's horrible. Has he got spring fever or something?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Otonashi keeps trying to make me drink some kind of rice porridge with weird flowers in it... It's actual porridge harassment."

considering the flower Towa associates with Ren is poisonous, i think it's safe to assume he is literally trying to poison him to death lmao. also wtf is porridge harassment--i even tried looking it up in japanese and the first thing that came up was someone screenshotting it and saying "what is porridge harassment" lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"All this farm labor's bad enough without all the caterpillars and weird plants that are out there now...This is harassment."

what's harassing you, nature? as someone who just had to kill a huge mosquito that came into my room, nature is harassing me too.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I hate cherry blossoms. They're like the flower version of being a legacy kid— all they have to do is bloom once a year and everyone claps."

in japanese what he says is something like 'i hate them just like people born with silver spoons in their mouths'. basically he hates people born into privilege lol i bet he'd have the potential to get along well with haku until he learns he'll be inheriting a shrine. . .then again he's getting along with Ritsu in their own little way

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"This is the worst... It's not even noon yet, how is it so hot? Summer is for extroverts and party animals, I wish it could just be over already..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A group trip to the beach? I'd rather die. No decent person would ever go there of their own free will."

butbutbut. think of the summer skins!!!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Summer was our busy period back home, so I always had to kill myself helping out. Now I'm here though... nothing's changed."

. . .did Ren's family run some sort of seaside shop??? And he happened to end up afraid of the ocean and hating aquatic creatures and such?

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How can the A/C be banned in the dorm...? Who gives a shit what temperature some anomalous animal that sneaks in prefers, humans should come first..."

okay i agree with him here though what the fuck kind of rule is that. can we talk to hyde about that, that's insane haru.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Now it's getting colder, I nearly found myself feeling grateful for this tragic jumpsuit... Am I being brainwashed...?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Fall, the season of the harvest—I'll stick with cup noodles, thanks. "Fall, the season to enjoy the outdoors"—screw that. I'm gonna make it the season of naps."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Look—I got bitten by some weird bug anomaly. To hell with the stupid bug spray ban, I'm buying some."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I feel like the mountains are rowdier when there's a full moon. Pretty sure my enemy encounter rate goes up when I'm on patrol too... Maybe I'm just imagining it."

is 'enemy encounter rate' here referring to people or anomalies. . .because if it's people then that's just because of tsukimi. . .although I wouldn't be surprised if there were a lot of anomalies or anomalies were more active on full moons.

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"There's less patrols in winter but anything involving water like washing up gets even worse... Ugh, I wish I could hibernate too..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Since the climate in Jabberwock's so messed up, sometimes it's actually warm in winter. The blizzards are way stronger though..."

have you tried pissing towa off less?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Oh god, I just saw what's in the diner's new Mystery Hot Pot... It's gotta be a matter of time before this place goes bust..."

i mean if they had ordinary health inspectors maybe lolol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"That clown broke my window so my room's like a freezer... Oh, don't worry. I just took his room instead."

lmao imagine Ren invites you to hang out and takes you to Haru's room instead of his like nah he broke my window so i'm using his room and he can freeze.

His birthday: (July 25th)

"You got this for me? That clown's been spreading my personal info around... No, it's fine, I'll still take it. Thanks."

i guess he doesn't really tell people his birthday, huh.

Your birthday:

"Happy birthday, {PC}. ...Isn't it kind of rude to look so surprised I'd celebrate your birthday? That came from the heart, you know."

I MEAN YOU NORMALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING. . .it's happy surprise!!!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. My resolution? Escaping the hell hole that is Jabberwock, for starters."

well you got here in like September or something so. you've got a while befor eyou can switch houses lmao but you can do it this year!

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"You got me chocolates? You're the type who does all this kind of stuff, huh? No, it's fine, you went to the trouble and everything so I'll take them."

i love when characters kinda mock you for doing getting them something but then they're like "nonono i want it gimme--" lolol from Ren especially it's very tsundere. poor guy wouldn't be straightforward about his feelings unless a damn life was on the line.

White Day: (March 14th)

"{PC}... Here, if you want them. I just bought the first thing I saw, so don't read into it..."

i bet it's actually really nice lolol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Guess what? I got special permission to switch houses. That nightmare is now behind me! I wish..."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"I hope everyone who gets excited about Halloween lives in misery for the rest of their lives. Why the hell do I have to help out with this stupid themed tour?"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Can I ask you a question, {PC}? You don't still believe in Santa Claus, do you? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Have a good Christmas."

i mean. . .after coming here santa is a plausible entity to believe in. . .if there's gonna be a santa i don't wanna be caught not believing and missing out on gifts. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Where'd she go...? Whatever. Guess I'll catch up on some of my games."

(13 affinity and above)

"Pfft... This edit's awesome. I'm a genius. I'll show {PC} when she gets back."

true bonding is sharing the funny memes you worked hard on. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"It's not like I was waiting for you or anything. It's just this hell hole is even more unbearable when you're not around..."

YEP THAT'S OUR UNFORTUNATE CUSTOMER SERVICE EMPLOYEE TSUNDERE ALRIGHT. His lines don't really get super affectionate but. They still have a charm to them when you realize how much he hides his feelings in the usual tsundere way. He likes you a lot but like. . .it's a bother and it's embarrassing. . .and what're the chances you're into him? He'll just invite you over to watch movies and play games with him and stuff. . .and tell himself it's fine to just be friends until it eats away at him. . .or until Haru spills the beans for him--

this took way too long because i got distracted like three times in the middle and my laptop started freaking out and i had to figure out why and close and reopen everything about 8 times hahaha. . . . OKAY TIME FOR ME TO GO TO BED! I hope this satisfies you a little bit!!

[thoughtlessthinkythoughts]

I think the key to understanding show!Aziraphale is in some lines that are in the book but not the show. Because these lines represent a place that our show Aziraphale hasn't hit yet.

Before I get into this, let me explain why I think things that aren't in the show can be so important to understanding where the show will go.

For another example, let's look at the ending of the book/s1. In the book, Adam is not impressed with Aziraphale and Crowley. There is no pep talk. He actually has a pretty stern message to them about "not messing people around."

A lot of s2 might not have worked the same way if they had gotten that message. It would have cut off room for growth. The whole plotline with Nina and Maggie for one would have been much less likely. So by holding off the stop messing with people message to the end of s2 (and then only giving it to Crowley), it provides more room for the characters to change at a pace befitting a multi-season show.

So what else do I think will end up working this way?

Well, there's a scene I love in the book that hasn't made it into the show yet. It happens after Aziraphale is discorporated. In the show, he goes to heaven, then to Madame Tracy. In the book, he bounces around possible hosts first, including a televangelist. The televangelist is going on about the rapture and such, and Aziraphale cuts in with this:

"Well, nice try...only it won't be like that at all. Not really.

"I mean, you're right about the fire and war, all that. but that Rapture stuff well, if you could see them all in Heaven - serried ranks of them as far as the mind can follow and beyond, league after league of us, flaming swords, all that, well, what I'm trying to say is who has time to go round picking people out and popping them up in the air to sneer at the people dying of radiation sickness on the parched and burning earth below them? If that's your idea of a morally acceptable time, I might add.

"And as for that stuff about Heaven inevitably winning...Well, to be honest, if it were that cut and dried, there wouldn't be a Celestial War in the first place, would there? It's propaganda. Pure and simple. We've got no more than a fifty percent chance of coming out on top. You might as well send money to a Satanist hotline to cover your bets, although to be frank when the fire falls and the seas of blood rise you lot are all going to be civilian casualties either way. Between our war and your war, they're going to kill everyone and let God sort it out-right?

"Anyway, sorry to stand here wittering, I've just a quick question-where am I?"

Because even this more cynical version of Aziraphale is adorable, the scene ends with "Gosh," he said, "am I on television?"

We didn't get this in the show, but I can't help feeling that it might be in season 3, assuming we get a season 3. It might even fit in better there, assuming we are going with a "second coming" plot. In the show, Aziraphale hasn't reached this level of cynicism (yet). I can't picture s1 or s2 Aziraphale giving this speech. Sure, he's seen what a mess the archangels are, he was willing to go against heaven to stop them from starting the end of the world, but I'm pretty sure show Aziraphale still believes in the goodness of God if not the goodness of the way heaven is run. It makes sense that show Aziraphale sees heaven as a fixable mess, an organization that isn't living up to what it should be. Because the show is taking Aziraphale's struggle with morally complex situations and questioning God and making it a longer arc.

My guess it that, as his tenure as archangel is likely to go terribly and not give him any more answers (or at least not answers he likes), he will get to the point where he could give this speech in season 3. My guess is that he's likely to also end up in a horrendous mental state once he reaches these conclusions (a perfect opportunity for some hurt/comfort). He's likely to build himself back up after that, but with a clearer look at the world.

End conclusion: if you are telling a longer story, sometimes you need to hold some things back to give your characters room to grow. So, it isn't a sign something is wrong with a story when partway through a character hasn't hit upon an obvious point.

"

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Do we know the favorite books that the French revolution figures liked to read? (It could be anyone, Robespierre or Saint just or Louis xvi it doesn't matter).

Much like this old ask about revolutionaries’ favorite dishes, I can’t say I know of any instance of someone exclaiming: ”this is 100% my favorite book,” but at tops people mentioning books that they thought were good or bad:

In his memoirs, Brissot writes he’s picking up Rousseau’s Confessions for the sixth time, so I guess that could qualify as a favorite book? send help

We have this list of books seized at Robespierre’s place after his death.

According to the memoirs of Élisabeth Duplay, Robespierre would read ”the works of Corneille, Voltaire and Rousseau” for her family in the evenings.

In a short biography over Desmoulins written in 1834, Marcellin Matton claims his favorite book was René Aubert de Vertot’s Histoire des révolutions arrivées dans le gouvernement de la République romaine (1719), of which he always carried a copy. Matton is an infamous romanticizer it’s from him we have the stupid leaf myth for example, but I’m willing to give him some leeway here since he could have obtained the information from Camille’s mother-in-law and sister-in-law, who were his friends:

In one of his first classes, he received Vertot's Révolutions romaines as a prize. Reading this work transported him with admiration; in the future, he always had a volume in his pocket. It was for him an indispensable companion, it was his vade mecum. He used or lost at least twenty volumes. It is perhaps to this excellent work and to the particular work that he did on the discourses of Cicero and especially on his Philippics, that we owe the lively and sharp style which distinguishes all the writings coming from the pen of Camille .

Desmoulins was however less fond of Rousseau’s Confessions, in number 55 (December 1790) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant he admits that he abandoned the book after getting infuriated by it:

Not that I idolize J.J. as I did in the past, since I saw in his Confessions that he had become an aristocrat in his old age. How far he was from looking at an Alexander with the pride of this Cynic, to whom he is compared, and how painfully I saw that he united the opposite faults of Diogenes and Arisippus! It is a pleasant thing to hear the author of the Social Contract protest in his Confessions about the simplicity of the commerce of such great lords (M. and Madame de Luxembourg) he cries with joy, he wants to kiss the feet of this good marshal, because he wanted to accompany one of his friends, an office clerk, for a walk. Is there anything smaller, more ridiculous? I received, he says elsewhere, the greatest honor that a man can receive, the visit of the Prince de Conti, (an honor that Rousseau shared with all the girls of the Palais-Royal.) At this point I tossed away the book out of spite, and I admit, that I had to reread the speech on equality of conditions, and Julie's novel, in order to not hate the philosopher of Geneva, like Durosoy and Mallet du Pan; for the same principles, in the mouth of such a great man, are more condemnable and worthy of aversion than in the mouths of our two gazetteers, whom God created poor in spirit, and predestined as such to the kingdom of heaven.

In a diary kept over the summer of 1788, Lucile Desmoulins mentions reading L’Âge d’Or (1782) by Sylvain Maréchal (of which she also copied two verses, Le Trésor and Le contrat de mariage devant la nature, in a notebook the year earlier), Les Idylles et poèmes champêtres (1762) by Salomon Gessner, L’Hymne au soleil, suivi de plusieurs morceaux du même genre qui n’ont point encore paru (1782) by Abbé de Reyrac (where she wrote down the verse La Gelée d’avril), Nouvelles lettres anglaises, ou Histoire du Chevalier Grandisson (1754) by Samuel Richardson and  Les Noces patriarchales, poëme en prose en cinq chants (1777) by Robert Martin Lesuire.

In his memoirs, Buzot mentions enjoying the works of Rousseau and Plutarch:

With what charms I still remember this happy period of my life which can no longer return, when, during the day, I silently roamed the mountains and woods of the city where I was born, reading with delight some works of Plutarch or of Rousseau, or recalling to my memory the most precious features of their morality and their philosophy. Sometimes, sitting on the flowering grass, in the shade of some thick trees, I indulged, in a sweet melancholy, in the memories of the sorrows and the pleasures which had in turn agitated the first days of my life. Often the cherished works of these two good men had occupied or maintained my vigils with a friend of my age whom death took from me at thirty, and whose memory, always dear and respected, has preserved from many errors!

Wow any chance you can sound even more like an 18th century man stereotype, Buzot?

…and that’s basically all I can come up with for the moment. But add on if you know anything more! @louis-antoine-leon-saint-just @lazarecarnot maybe you would like to share your favorite books with us if you have any?

[gilverrwrites]

Quick and Dirty

Pairing: Captain Boomerang/Reader

Digger has an idea, it involves highly inappropriate usage of the Speed Force Gauntlet. (Please ignore the fact that the gauntlet doesn't actually extend to the fingers - at least i'm pretty sure it doesn't)

You're currently reading the AFAB version

>[Please click here for the AMAB version]<

Rating: 18+

Words: >800

Content: Established relationship, coercion (kinda), clitoral stimulation, vibrations, dirty talk, spit, swearing.

Please remember: to do the things that make you happy.

“No. Fucking. Way.” You warn, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms defensively. “You keep that thing away from me.”

“Oh, come on, Darlin’.” Digger is still smiling, crooked, confident, casual. He gestures to the speed gauntlet strapped to his other arm. “It’s perfectly safe. You’ve seen me usin’ it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You examine the glove in question. It would be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued. You didn’t know much about the speed force beyond whatever half-truths Digger rambled on about, it seemed intricate, and unsafe. But Boomerang was a good lay, and he’d used that thing to save your skin in the field more than once, so you were willing to tentatively hear him out. “If that thing goes off midway, I don’t want my bits going with it.”

“That won’t happen… Probably.” Concern did flash across his face briefly, but it was quickly hidden by his usual bravado. He stepped closer to you, not quite close enough to touch, but enough that you could smell him, that you could feel the high energy radiating from him. Or maybe that was the gauntlet. “Have a little faith in ol’ Boomer, aye. I’ll treat you right, make you feel real good.”

“Okay… but if anything happens to mine.” You point to your crotch before gesturing to the growing erection in Digger's trousers. “I’m using yours as target practice.”

That might have been a boner killer for other men, but Digger's enthusiasm when it comes to sex or showing off knows no bounds, and this is a perfect opportunity for both. His eyes glint with mischief, with victory. He licks his lips, and you know there’s no backing out now, you’re fucked.

Digger maintains eye contact as he reaches out, there’s no pleasantries. He makes quick work undoing your trousers, hooking his gloved fingers in your panties, and pulling them both down until they’re positioned halfway down your thighs.

“What, no foreplay?” You challenge, raising your brows at him.

“You’re not gonna need it.” The look he gives you is so coy, so amused. It should fuel your cynicism, but it looks hot on him. “But, since ya asked so nicely, I guess I can spare a lil somethin’.”

He rests his unarmed hand on the wall beside you and leans in, occupying your lips with his. You’re only allowed a moment to enjoy it before you feel the brisk metal finger plates of the gauntlet slide between your slit. You hiss at the contact, and Digger pulls his hand back immediately.

“Sorry bout that. Shoulda warmed it up first.” His expression flips to sheepish as he brushes his fingers against his scarf. He blows on it a few times before spitting on his index finger and continuing. “Right, let’s try that again.”

He resumes the position, one hand on the wall, one hand slinking back between your legs, and his face just inches from yours. The temperature has barely improved, but he’s able to sink his fingers back in without causing you to flinch this time.

You’re still unprepared and admittedly unimpressed thus far as he starts circling your clit. To give him a fighting chance, you close your eyes, hoping it will help you focus on the feeling.

“Aye, no no no. Keep your eyes open.” As you follow his instruction, you hear a quiet whizzing from below, a lesser sound than the gauntlet's normal powering up. “I wanna watch your reaction.”

Then it hits you, an intense pulsing pressed against your most sensitive area, like every vibrator ever invented is being utilised on you in that single moment. The wall prevents you from being able to roll your head back, so you stare at Digger, wide-eyed as your body tingles and burns.

“Shhhhiiiiit, you like that.” His voice is dripping with fervour, and it only serves to add an extra level of throbbing to your cunt. Already approaching your climax, you’re unable to find the words to respond, instead fisting your hands around Digger's leather lapels in anticipation. “You reallllly like that, don’t ya?”

A nod is all you can manage as you begin to jerk and quiver, hitting your climax in record time. It’s hot and searing, like lightning is running through your whole body.

The tips of your fingers and toes, among other things, are still twitching as you start to catch your breath moments later. You can barely comprehend whatever Digger is prattling on about. He’s waving the gauntlet around, his arm moving so fast you can’t make it out. There’s lots of brash laughter and ‘I told ya so’s. You’re finally able to fully tune in as he muses, “How many rounds of that can handle, I wonder?”

[wheredafandomat]

Shrink - P1 | You need to get laid

Random short thing I thought of. It’ll probably only be a few parts.

Avenger! Loki x therapist! Reader

18+ | there will be some bad language and probably mentions of sex throughout etc. Also, this is a lil unethical

Next

With a long exhale, Loki rolled his eyes as he settled back against his chair, slouching as you continued to speak. He didn’t like being here, judged, therapized, forced to confront his feelings or whatever other taradiddles Thor had conjured up to get him here. He tried to look interested, gaze meeting yours as you paused before continuing when you had his attention.

“I personally feel your hostility and aggression towards the other members of your team may be rooted into something else.” You concluded as Loki narrowed his gaze questioningly at you. “Loki, I’m going to ask you a very personal question and I want you to answer truthfully.”

“Go ahead.” He nodded.

“Remember in here” you started, gesturing around the room “is a safe space.”

“Get on with it.”

“When is the last time you’ve had sex?” You questioned.

Inhaling and exhaling, Loki’s gaze began wandering around the room as he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“Well there was—and— and I can’t forget—” he began mumbling to himself as you took a sip of water before he was looking at you again “if I were to hazard a guess, I’d say around a century ago.”

Gasping, you almost spat out your water.

“Relax, only a midgardian century, time moves very slowly here I’ve gathered.” He tried to console.

“I thought it moved faster here?”

“Perhaps” Loki shrugged “I don’t know, I was just trying to quell your shock and distress.”

“I wouldn’t say I was distressed, just” you swallowed thickly “surprised.”

“Well, I’ve not found anyone I want to be intimate with.” He spoke matter of factly.

“No one?” You queried incredulously.

“I don’t spend much time out. I’m usually helping my brother and his team of delinquents.” Loki explained.

“They’re the Avengers, Earth’s defenders Loki.” You countered.

“Well I hope your planet musters up a more capable team, sooner rather than later.” He mocked.

Instead of defending the organisation further, you kept your professionalism.

“Look, Loki, if I’m being honest with you, I don’t think you’re angry, I think you're sexually frustrated” you proposed. “it’d explain the irritability, the edginess and the dreams we spoke about last week.”

“Sexually frustrated.” He repeated, mulling over the words. “And how would one go abouts curing this sexual frustration?” He asked, earning a cynical look from you. “Right.” He realised.

“For you, this week's homework is to go out and get laid, safely.”

“Get laid?”

“Have some sex, do I have to spell everything out for you?” You huffed exaggeratedly.

“Right.” He smiled.

“So, same time next week?”

“Yes.” He agreed, making his next appointment before leaving.

Making his way back to the compound, Loki thought about your words. Could you quite possibly be correct? He didn’t want to admit it but he thought that there was potential for you to be right but then that’d mean that the whole concept of therapy wasn’t as useless as he had previously argued and he didn’t like being wrong. He despised it. Huffing to himself, he thought there was probably no harm in testing your hypothesis. Once he reached back, he was greeted by Thor.

“How was therapy?” Thor asked.

“Do you and Jane have sex?” Loki questioned causing Thor to swallow thickly, clearly taken aback.

“Yes, yes we do.” He answered. “Why?”

“Well Doctor y/l/n recons that I’ll be all better if I have some of the sex.” Loki explained, causing Thor to stand straighter.

“Well we must settle this at dawn, whoever survives will be the one Jane—” Thor began before Loki interrupted.

“What on Midgard are you going on about?”

“What on Midgard are you going on about?” Thor narrowed his gaze.

“I have to find someone in which I can have the sex with and then I’ll be all better. Don’t fret, I don’t want Jane.” Loki insisted.

“Oh splendid.” Thor clapped happily.

Meanwhile, you had just finished up with your last client before you heard a knock at your door, looking up, you smiled as you gestured Natasha inside who was holding food. Once she entered, she sat down as you both tucked into the meal.

“So, how’s your week been, any good client stories?” Natasha asked.

“Natasha” you exclaimed “if I were to share information about my patients with you, I’d be at risk of losing my license.”

“I won’t tell” she baited you “besides, I’m not asking you to be specific and use names, just give me the rundown, we used to share everything with each other.”

You couldn’t disagree with her, you became best friends when your office was based at SHIELD headquarters and she was a trainee agent.

“You’re a terrible influence, pour me a glass of that wine.” You relented.

“Soo, banging anyone?” She asked, both of you with glasses in hand.

“No, no one rocks my boat.” You sighed.

“What about that accounting guy?”

“We were at my apartment and let’s just say an encounter with a spider left one of us almost in tears and the other completely turned off.” You cringed at the memory causing Natasha to laugh. “I want a man Nat, he was always just so—”

“Weak?” She finished.

“I was going to say submissive and not in the sexy way. I guess I’m just done with always being the one making decisions, always being the one in control.” You rationalized.

“You wanna be dominated.” She figured.

“Yes.” You agreed.

“You should have just asked.” She teased.

“Very funny” you smiled “but yes, I think that’s it. Like if we’re having sex, I want him to hold me down and fuck me you know, not just cuddle and dry hump me until his boners gone down.”

“Accounting done that?” She interrupted you, aghast.

“He said he only wanted to have sex romantically.”

“What does that even mean?” She laughed.

“Who knows?” You shrugged. “Maybe it means after a date?”

“So then what did he do the times he was just at your apartment?”

“Not get rid of spiders” you laughed “he was more of a friend really. We just watched films together and hung out.”

“Wow, that’s crazy.”

“I know.”

“Girl you need to get laid.”

“I knowww.”

“So, what’s the plan?” She grinned.

“I’m looking for a man that can remove spiders from the home and pin me against the wall.” You giggled.

Next

Tags

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[lightwise]

WHY MAYDAY IS A MIRROR OF REX (AND ALL OF CROSSHAIR’S BROTHERS)

AKA How Crosshair predicted his own redemption arc.

There have been many comparisons made between Mayday and Rex/The Bad Batch, but I have kept myself from ranting about The Outpost for too long and I figured I should get this out there before this week’s new episode hits. 

Crosshair is cynical and snarky when we meet him in The Clone Wars (as is the norm for his personality, but there’s a special edge to it in S7 E1). The first words out of his mouth are “we don’t usually work with regs.”

(I am not sure who first posted this image set, so if you know who to credit please reach out).

Now in TBB E12, the episode opens with Crosshair watching regular clones being told about the retirement bill by an imperial officer. His helmet is off and they have no armor on. He’s face to face with them. He seems interested in their conversation but is still removed, separate. He still thinks this doesn't affect him.

Once he ships out to Barton 4, we meet Mayday by hearing his voice before he rounds the corner into our view. The immediate thought that flew into my mind was, “that’s Rex’s voice.” Other than Rex himself, we as the audience and especially Crosshair as a character have not heard that warm, snarky, calm tone that signifies that commanding officer’s “regular clone voice” much this season. Mayday’s voice is a little deeper than Rex’s, but he has the same commanding yet casual tone and demeanor. As weary and frustrated as he is at the lack of support from the Empire, Mayday chooses to express it with a level of snarkiness that would have made Tech, Echo, or Rex himself proud. 

Or as Rex once said, "It's Captain, sir."

"Experience outranks everything."

Mayday and his squad are wrapped in mummified cloth strips, and he states that his men are all “dead. We’re all that’s left.” Three of them, to mimic the three troopers being forced into retirement that Crosshair had seen before arriving. They are dead men walking. And so are the rest of the clones. 

Mayday brings the light to Crosshair. And starts talking to him, man to man, like a friend. Like a brother. He asks him his name. Crosshair’s first encounters with Rex were Rex going after Echo, pulling him free from mindless programming and reminding him what his name really was. 

“What brought you here.” “Just lucky, I guess.” Luck isn’t a word that Crosshair typically uses to describe his experiences. He usually relies on and points out his superiority, his skills, his uniqueness. He knows he hasn’t engineered this meeting, and yet Mayday’s mannerisms are already starting to find the chinks in his metaphorical armor. 

“I’ll give you the lay of the land.” Like Hunter would. “Conditions have degraded our equipment.” Like Tech could have helped with. “I’m not an explosives expert.” Wrecker is. 

Mayday lays out the helmets of his fallen squad in a memorial, the same way Rex and Ahsoka do after order 66. Reverence and respect for the dead, even when it seems meaningless. Crosshair has let himself be deadened by the Empire, yet Mayday treats him with interest and respect, drawing him back out of himself. Mayday even shows the same respect for the raider who had been attacking his base, saying that he was bothered that his men had left him there to die. 

Crosshair is still throwing up his shields, like he did at the end of season 1 when he tried to convince his brothers to join him. “We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior.” 

And all of a sudden, Crosshair will die if Mayday doesn’t save him. If he doesn’t fully trust him to disarm the pressure mine he has gotten himself into. He has continued to choose to step in places that are a pressure mine waiting to go off, waiting to swallow him whole. And until now he has made enemies of anyone who has tried to help him.

Mayday saves his life, and now they’re working as a team, silently and in unison. They realize that all this effort and loss of life has been for mere equipment (that’s for their replacements, no less). Their lives really are worth even less than the epithet "used equipment" that Nolan spits in Crosshair’s face when they first meet. 

Hunter had tried to tell him on Kamino: “Can’t you see they’re using you? We’re loyal to each other, not some empire.”

Crosshair: “YOU weren’t loyal to me. I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I’m going to give you what you never gave me–a chance.” Only now, after Mayday gave him that chance, is he willing to admit that Hunter was right.

How many times have those words haunted Crosshair’s thoughts?

Now this was interesting to me. Crosshair incidentally causes an avalanche by targeting a group of explosives in order to end their shootout, cracks fissuring up the mountainside. Once before he was maneuvered into a situation not of his own free will (when his chip is enhanced on Kamino), yet he stubbornly pursued that scenario when he chose to stay on the platform at the end of season 1. Once again, he is put into a situation against his will by being brought to Barton 4, but this time, he ends up creating a scenario where his choices from this moment will now have the opposite effect.

Mayday shoves Crosshair out of the way, saving his life once again. A pile of snow rips Crosshair’s helmet off of his face, and as Mayday is buried, Crosshair re-emerges his true self. 

“We have to move.” Rex’s words throughout almost all of their Clone Wars arc. Rex is selfless, telling Echo to go with the Batch if that was the best place for him. Letting Echo leave him behind, essentially. Mayday begs Crosshair to leave him behind and save himself. They both want what’s best for others. And their examples rub off on the men they save. Echo constantly does what he can to help his brothers escape the Empire. Crosshair’s sheer stubbornness that up until now has kept him tethered to the Empire, refuses to leave Mayday behind. He can’t watch another brother die in front of him. Not anymore. 

"You're still their brother, Crosshair. You're my brother too." Omega's plea to him.

So Crosshair risks his life to carry Mayday back. A REG. He refuses to let go of him the whole journey. He lets him use his sniper rifle as a crutch. All of his defenses are finally down, and he not only cares, but is willing to show he cares, BEGS ON HIS KNEES to his commanding officer for help, to show that he DOES CARE.

Finally, this struck me. We almost never see Crosshair using a hand blaster. He’s a sniper. Yet both in his encounter with his brothers on Kamino in season 1, and his confrontation with Nolan here, Crosshair picks up a regular blaster. He’s not being the sniper, distant and removed, making a kill from afar with his own rifle. This is up close, personal, a messy choice. With a hand blaster, a regular clone’s weapon. 

Crosshair’s conversation with Hunter on Kamino reads back as though he is pleading with himself to not make the same mistake twice, to stop running from his fears, to finally embrace who he is–a clone. To embrace his real purpose–protecting his brothers.  He’s made his choice. He doesn’t expect to survive. The vultures are circling both of them. In season 1 Hunter stuns him and he falls to his knees and then to the floor, passing out. Here, he snarls “Lieutenant,” in a sarcastic tribute to how Mayday had first addressed Nolan, and becomes an Angel of Death. He avenges Mayday and redeems himself, and once again falls forward and passes out with the last of his strength gone.

[chrkrose]

I mean I am all for girls sticking together, especially against someone like Joe Jonas who I have side-eye since forever, but if that means fawning over Taylor Swift I guess I'll pass. Especially when she did something very very similar to someone with waaaaay less power than she has in the industry. She has much more in common with Joe Jonas than with Sophie Turner. Obviously, the situations vary in terms of Sophie being a woman (so misogyny adds an awful layer to what she's going through, which Joe Alwyn doesn't have to face) and the mother of Joe's kids, which makes Joe Jonas' actions even worse, but how is it that people are forgetting how Taylor went on her own "smear campaign" against Joe Alwyn just because he dared to break up with her and /or not be willing to marry her? She painted the guy as if he was insecure and jealous of her success, implied he was holding her back, went on pap walks to drive the point home that he was keeping her "hidden" and preventing her from being her own self, made all of her friends unfollow him on social media, all of this knowing exactly how that would look like, and how that would weaponize her fans against him. The dude can't do as much as take a subway without his name going trending on Twitter with her insane fan base calling him all kinds of names. There were fans even wishing for him to kill himself, and the tweet had tons of likes. Never mind the fact she made a point of dating a racist misogynistic right after and weaponized that relationship too (because you can't tell me part of her motivation to state in public she had been the happiest she has ever been, to have the guy in all of her concerts singing along her songs when she built the narrative that Joe was unsupportive of her success wasn't a way of getting back at him). And according to her own lyrics, Joe Alwyn has a history of dealing with mental health issues, like anxiety and depression. And yet, Taylor did all of that to the person she dated for six years. It wasn't a marriage with kids, but the relationship lasted longer than Joe Jonas and Sophie's marriage and almost the entirety of Joe Jonas and Sophie's relationship. I see no difference between Joe Jonas and Taylor Swift, she just gets away with being an awful person. And unfortunately for Joe Alwyn, people bought the narrative that Taylor sold out there about him. Luckily, Joe Jonas wasn't able to stick the "Sophie is a bad mother and unfit partner" narrative to her. I also can't help but think this outing is much more PR Taylor swift seeing an opportunity to come out as a “girl’s girl” than Taylor Swift reaching out to a friend. Afterall, where was this attitude when people were calling her out for dating a racist misogynistic? Hmm yeah, she can fuck off. I also am going to be super cynical here, and it's something I've noticed about her for ages now. To me, she feels a certain validation in other women's failed relationships. Especially with a woman who got something Taylor wished had had herself.

[junhuiste]

experi-meant to be ⋆ park wonbin

pairing: wonbin x gn reader

tags/warnings: fluff, cursing, college au, laboratory environment, one mention of baking, 1600 words

a/n: i meant to publish this on valentine’s day since i had lab that day but i never finished it lol. there’s some microbio lab procedure jargon so like this is what streaking plates is if you want a visual lmfaoao. this is my first published work in like three years it feels weird haha + i might change my layout/header for fics but for now i’ll keep the same layout i've had for past fics

wonbin believes U are the uracil to his adenine—you should always be paired together.

| seunghan: dude 

| seunghan: lowkey i can’t come to lab bc my car won’t fucking start so i’ll have to make it up next week :\ but taehyun and his partner would probably be willing to help you out with calculations and clean up hopefully

Wonbin pants heading up the stairs into the classroom lab, cheeks immediately pink as he’s made a spectacle amongst everyone already sitting and tuned into the TA’s pre-lab lesson. Sighing as he processes Seunghan’s text, Wonbin turns to the drawing of bacterial growth curves on the whiteboard but is soon after preoccupied with the fact that there is no Taehyun on a stool. There’s just your backside entirely in front of him. 

Taehyun is one to set up all his materials before the TA even steps foot through the lab door so if he isn’t here now then that means—

“Guess you’re stuck with me for today.” 

Wonbin tries to swallow but it gets stuck halfway down his throat and is about to go into a choke type cough frenzy when he surprises himself and softly clears his throat instead. His thoughts are all just stuck there—in the middle of his esophagus, begging for them to travel back up to his brain so he has enough stamina to stick it through the four hour class. 

“No hate to him because Taehyunnie’s a tad faster at getting through the steps, so you know, we’re usually out thirty minutes early, but I can promise you I’m better at calculations. And I’m more precise with measurements,” you let out a small giggle before setting your backpack on the floor next to Wonbin’s.

The commotion of pipettes being thrown onto the surface, glass tubes clinking, and sneakers squeaking rushing to obtain their samples is right away drowned out in Wonbin’s ears by the sight of you perched atop the stool a mere few inches away from him. He tries to keep his chest from heaving at bay by taking his notebook out of his backpack and reviewing the method for today’s class. The solution is only short lived though, promptly taking notice of how you gather materials from the drawer while simultaneously reading through your own notebook. 

Every Tuesday and Thursday, Wonbin assumes his seat in the third to last row of his Virology lecture, close enough to the door that he can be among the first to leave as soon as “see you guys next time” leaves Professor Choi’s lips. He longs for the day (ideally it would be quite before the last week of classes but realistically that’s the best he has to offer for now) that he musters up just the slightest bit of courage to join you and Taehyun in the second row, where Seunghan also occasionally accompanies you two. It’s only the third week of this semester, but perhaps the sixth course of his over the past three years Wonbin’s seen you in. From Biochemistry to Rhetoric 2, he has never taken place at a desk next to yours. 

Wonbin’s always aching to know how you’d answer everything he could ever ask you, be it the attendance quiz question or your weekend plans—what time you usually roll out of bed, whether or not you stroll to the local farmer’s market near campus, if you’re spending Saturday with a special someone. He needs to hear you laugh at Taehyun’s cynicism about college. He needs to hear it up close, not having to strain his ear when he’s fifteen rows behind when you crack up at your friend during the five minute break Professor Choi gives the class. 

But Wonbin will take what he can get for now, and if that’s helping you fulfill your wish of completing the lab procedure as quickly as possible, he’ll do it. 

“I can do the calculations for us,” you begin, “would you mind getting our mutant strains at the front of the class and streak the Petri dishes?” 

Wonbin nods almost too enthusiastically and curses at himself for seeming embarrassingly desperate in front of you. Sure, he’d like to muster up the courage to ask you out, but today he’ll try to take it one step at a time.

When Wonbin returns with new plates to grow your bacteria on and two tubes filled with your bacterial strains, you scoot your chair closer to his to later show the finished calculations. He catches a whiff of your light perfume and almost falls out of his own chair. 

As he’s setting up the Bunsen burner for sterilization, you chuckle, “you know the real reason Taehyun’s not here today is because he left town last night to get a head start on the extravagant romantic weekend he has planned with Gaeul.”

“If there’s one way to use our one free unexcused absence, that’ll do it,” Wonbin replies. 

“Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day, Wonbin? I mean if you did I just hope you wouldn’t leave me early like Taehyun did,” your eyes meet his for a brief second before flitting back to your notebook.

Wonbin’s grip on the matchstick to light the burner loosens. He just barely catches himself before the match could fall from his hand onto the lab bench. What he needed to get a grip on was his fucking sanity—he almost set the classroom on fire because his heart instead is aflame for yours. 

Taking a breath, Wonbin exhales when the flame turns to blue, finally lighting the Bunsen burner. 

“Nope, no plans,” he briefly turns to you. There’s a beat and he considers that asking you back would seem too forward, but he does it anyway. 

Upon seeing your grin before you open your mouth, he turns his attention right back to the tubes and plates in front of him. 

It’s so over. 

For a second Wonbin’s relieved, because he thinks he can actually get through the next two hours without overthinking his micro movements in front of you. Now that it’s over for him, maybe he can actually pay attention to the way the metal loop he’s holding makes contact with the jelly-like agar inside the plastic plate and not disappoint Seunghan with the results. However, it’s not realistic because even still, Wonbin takes note of all your beauty and remains completely bewitched.

“Honestly I wish...I mean Minjeong, Yunjin and I are gonna do a rom-com binge and bake desserts…but you know…not any plans with someone like that…” 

Your temporary lab partner tries to hide his smile and nods silently as he continues switching between spreading bacteria on the plate with the metal loop and then sterilizing the loop in the blue flame. 

The rest of lab goes smoothly as Wonbin tries to quell the embers within him for the time remaining. There’s forty minutes left but technically to you Wonbin knows time is dashing away and it should feel like there’s what but only ten minutes left to do everything. Your pair was a few steps ahead of the others, just like how it would be when Taehyun accompanied you every week. 

Wonbin has been psyching himself up the past two hours to finally ask you out but currently he’s stuck in his head and just can’t seem to get it out. Does he chase you after you’ve stepped foot out of the lab or should he leave you be? Or maybe he can try next week. He’ll keep telling himself that until there’s one day of instruction left and then he won’t see you for three months and then he’ll lament the entire summer to Seunghan that he didn’t say shit. 

He can do that…or just rip the bandage off at an agonizing speed. 

The last Petri dish that Wonbin holds is being wrapped in parafilm to prevent contamination. He’d been going through the motions of the procedure while simultaneously not paying attention to his surroundings, at his own self’s behest. You’ve already cleaned the entire lab bench and he doesn’t notice until he hears “see you in Virology,” and suddenly you’re slinging your backpack over your shoulder. 

It’s now or next week…or never—wait you know that Wonbin’s in your Virology class? What you said is ringing in his ears and it hits him all at once.

Petri dishes in hand and turning around, Wonbin freezes in his tracks.

“Um…”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” his own mouth betrays him and suddenly it’s all coming out much too quickly for his liking. 

You’re about to answer but before you can even get a word in, “I-I don’t mean to interfere with your plans with your friends but uh, if you wanted to do something like that I’m down.”

Your lips press into a line and Wonbin is about to pass out from the threatening fluorescent classroom lights. 

“Park Wonbin…are you asking me out on a date?” He can practically feel his sweat melting the parafilm tape off and a vision of him dropping the Petri dishes in front of you, cracking open and shattering, exposing E.coli to everyone in the room flashes before him. He blinks once and calms his vice grip on the plates. 

“Yes. Yes I am asking you out on a date,” Wonbin looks down at your sneakers, not knowing where else to shift his gaze to. 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you smirk, slinging the other strap of your backpack over your other shoulder and saluting.

Park Wonbin swears his heart is on fire and does a backflip off a fifty foot cliff. A curve forming on his lips, he smiles slightly waving with the plates still in his hand, “see ya…”

You halt your forward movement and turn back around, “Wonbin?” he perks up again, “you should sit next to me in lecture on Tuesday.”

[flxrartsstuff]

The last thing I need…

LevixfemReader, 18+

Authors note: You and Levi have been stranded in the middle of nowhere. You two were actually on your way to a wedding. And since you were both late anyway because other things had priority, the mood is a little tense. A little teasing that ends in another series of hot lovemaking in the back seat.

cw: unprotected sex, car sex, bj

»Come on,« he said swearing, hitting the steering wheel as he repeatedly failed to start the engine. No matter how many times he turned the key. She sat next to him in silence, chewing nervously on her lower lip and staring at the steering wheel as if it could somehow help to get the engine running. Levi had already opened the hood and rummaged around inside, but apparently everything was fine. But the car still wouldn't start.

They had been on their way to a wedding, running late and now they were halfway there. But that was just the icing on the cake because they were both late through no fault of their own and this time, they probably couldn't get away with it so easily. She had looked seductive in that tight red dress, looking at herself in the mirror from all sides, until he could no longer hold on to himself and had fallen over her. He had torn the dress off her body and mercilessly taken her in front of the mirror. As if that wasn't enough, she had dragged him onto the bed and continued their lovemaking there until they could take no more and she had to scratch his entire back to make him realize that they were late.

Now their car was stuck in the middle of nowhere, a road driving through a forest, with nothing but trees to the left and right. Levi cursed again before getting out of the car, furious with impatience and anger. She did the same and got out to stand next to him in front of the hood, holding the flashlight so he could see. He didn't care that his suit and shirt might get soiled.

»I just don't understand what the problem is.«

»Levi, shouldn't we call a towing service?« she tried calmly, stroking his shoulder. He leaned back again and groaned in annoyance.

»Fine, call him,« he made a dismissive gesture, clearly frustrated that he couldn't get the car running himself. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket, but no sooner had she dialed the number than the annoying signal sounded in the phone that there was no signal out here. The woman put her cell phone down and looked at Levi.

»No signal out here.«

»Perfect,« he replied cynically. »I guess we should have leave without our…Foreplay.« he didn't sound at all amused by this, his tone cold as he untied the knot of his bow tie around his neck. He undid the buttons of his white shirt underneath and looked up at the sky in frustration.

»Oh come on,« she began, still somewhat calmly, although she didn't like his tone at all. After all, he didn't have to take out on her how angry he was that they were late for the wedding. »Were we really going to go without?«

She smiled, knowing full well that they both wouldn't have stopped and would have loved to spend the whole day in bed. Unfortunately, that didn't appease him either. His gray eyes sparkled excitedly as he turned to her and grabbed her by the upper arms.

»Maybe I should have been more persistent, Y/N. Today, of all days, on Mikasa and that brat Eren's wedding day, « He let go of her and closed the hood a little too tightly.

»They will understand it,« she tried again, but it didn't really reassure him. He simply couldn't accept the fact that the car had broken down and that he couldn't fix it. He leaned silently against the hood and looked frustratedly into space.

»Understand that we'd rather shag each other than show up at her wedding on time? We're not getting anywhere here, you do realize that, right?«

She blew a strand of hair out of her face after his statement. Suddenly she had an idea and the urge to put an end to his naysaying. »Well then, we'll just have to push!«

»Push the car? To the wedding?« he repeated incredulously, raising a thin eyebrow. But she already started moving and walked to the back of the car. However, the road and the ground were a little slippery and as soon as she took a step, her foot snapped so that the heel of her pump broke off with a small crack. She toppled to the side, but was still able to support herself against the car. Levi was rushing forward, arms outstretched to catch her, but she remained on her feet. Frustrated that her heel had broken off, she lifted her foot and took a closer look at the mess. The beautiful, elegant shoe that had matched her dress perfectly was now ruined by the heel, which was loosely attached to the rest of the shoe. You really couldn't be seen anywhere with that. She turned back to Levi, her shoe raised threateningly in her hand.

»Not a single word,« she began, only to stop him from making any more sarcastic remarks when the sky suddenly rumbled and a little later, the first raindrops pattered directly down on them. Unlike her, Levi reacted faster, opened the car door and dragged her into the back seat. She landed with her back on the cool leather of the seats and in the next moment felt his warm body on top of her, his soft lips sealed with hers. When he pulled away from her again, she was breathing heavily. Her face glowed with sudden heat. He lifted her other leg and removed the other shoe from her feet.

»Levi...« she purred, perplexed, yet slightly aroused. The rain pelted down on the car, now even harder and heavier. The car was their only protection from this weather. A few raindrops fell from his black strands of hair and splashed on her cheeks. His face was so close to hers that his breath kept hitting her lips.

»What are you doing? We have to go to the wedding...«

»First, I'll teach you some manners...« he interrupted her and immediately placed his lips on her neck. His tongue caressed every spot that she loved and immediately destroyed any resistance. His body lay on top of hers without really pressing on her. She only felt his warmth, as well as the clear pressure in his trousers, which pressed deliciously against her feminine center. He pushed a few strands of her hair aside, slid the strap of her dress down and continued to worship her collarbone and shoulders. A sigh left her lips, so uninhibited and unrestrained. And he loved every single sound she made. Her skin was so soft and he let out a few little groans as well as his tongue slide over her skin.

»Do you think you can go to the wedding in that shoe and dress? I don't think so, my dear,« and somehow there was suddenly a hint of amusement in his voice. His annoyed mood seemed to be blown away. When she didn't say anything back, he looked up into her eyes, which were half closed.

»Look at me when I'm talking to you.« he said to her more insistently, grabbing her chin with one hand and turning her face in his direction. He leaned directly over her, running his thumb over her lips and smudging the seductive red lipstick even more. She opened her mouth a little more, let his thumb slide in and sighed aroused.

»So needy again, huh? Let's see how much...« His hand moved slowly from her mouth, down over her breasts and stomach, to between her thighs. He pushed her dress aside like an annoying obstacle and ran his fingers over her already soaked panties. She immediately shuddered under his touch and put her arms around his neck to pull him down impatiently. He growled darkly in response and stroked his fingers up and down over her pussy.

»Teach me manners, Levi,« she whispered in his ear, burying her fingers in his black hair, stroking his undercut and feeling his tense body on hers. He made every sensitive part of hers tremble, even though he was only just getting started. Her dress quickly disappeared and was thrown carelessly onto the passenger seat, followed by his white shirt and pants. No matter how tight it was in the back seat, they couldn't stop themselves. At some point, her legs were wrapped around his hips and he was already deep inside her with his hard length, while their lips were literally stuck together. The harder his thrusts became, the deeper he seemed to sink into her. Her wetness enveloped him excitedly and while her moans were like music to his ears. Constantly whispering the same words, that he shouldn't stop while they did it unrestrained in the car.

»Oh fuck, yes...« she groaned breathlessly, clawing her hands into his neck, into his arms over everywhere they met skin. His deep voice vibrated on her lips as he kissed her. He nibbled on her lips, let his tongue glide through them and caressed hers. She sighed in pleasure, but didn't smile for long as he thrust into her harder, making her gasp excitedly. Heat gathered in the car, their bodies sticking together through their sweat.

»Yes, please. Please, don’t stop…« She moaned, threw her head back and let all her cries of pleasure resound throughout the car. He did the same and couldn't hold back any longer. He couldn't. All he wanted was to feel her tight pussy on his cock, contracting with pleasure the closer she got to orgasm. He grabbed her chin again, a little harder this time, and turned her head back towards him.

»Look into my fucking eyes, when you cum‘,« he said breathlessly, impatiently and without restraint. It was intense to close his eyes, but having Levi's gaze in front of him made it even more intense. It had never been as intimate as it was now. She saw the lust in them, saw his climax coming closer and once again the confirmation that they were one in this moment. It was intense, she felt everything with every fiber of her body. She felt how it tightened with pleasure in her abdomen, how her hips moved together with his.

»That’s right, Y/N, just like that,« he praised her with a moan and kissed her sore lips hotly and demanding. He was clearly close to climaxing, but gave up all his energy to make her come faster than him. And she did. The orgasm overtook her body, she stretched her back with pleasure, moaned and moved towards him.

»Oh, yes please, oh god yes…« she repeated over and over again, as if intoxicated. She couldn't and wouldn't stop herself. But she was surprised when Levi pulled back, straightened up and sat down in the seat. He pulled her closer to him by her hair so that her face hung directly in front of his still hard cock.

»And now show me what good manners you have. Don't you dare to lose a single drop...« He sounded dark and dominating, a shiver chased over her still drained and trembling body, where she could still feel the effects of her orgasm. She exchanged a curt glance with him before doing as he asked. And by God, she'd milk him so clean he'd beg her not to stop. Even though she knew it was a rarity to hear Levi beg.

She slid closer to him, placed her lips on his tip and kissed him. She never lost eye contact with him as she licked along his length, holding him with both hands. It was a pleasure for her to do this every time, to show him how much she appreciated him. He leaned his head back so that she had a clear view of his Adam's apple. His whole body shuddered as she began to suck on him, slowly taking the length into her mouth. At first her movements were slow. She let it slip from her lips before taking it deep inside her again.

»Fuck.« He grabbed the back of her head, pulled harder on her hair and pressed her face closer. »Just like that.«

She did what he wanted and sucked faster and deeper on him, eager to reach his climax and feel him deep in her throat. He kept repeating his words, encouraging her not to stop. His cock pulsated in her mouth, she could feel that he would come at any moment. Even faster and faster, her lipstick had long since smudged and left a few streaks on his cock. When he came, panting and moaning, her mouth was wide open and she swallowed every last drop without losing any of it.

»That's my good girl...« he growled and stroked his fingers gently through her hair, almost lovingly compared to the way he had grabbed her earlier. Suddenly the wedding had completely faded into the background and it seemed as if they had all the time in the world. The rain continued to patter on the roof of the car, like a relaxing melody. The windows were completely steamed up, they were both sweating and breathing fast. Levi enjoyed the sight of her smudged lipstick and his cum spread across her lips. He wouldn't trade that sight for anything in the world. Not even for a wedding.

[things-of-fire]

LORE DUMP‼️‼️ Buckle up losers, I’ve got a new WoF AU and OCs to boot. Welcome to my shitty dragon crime drama.

It currently doesn’t have a title or anything, it just exists. Here’s the deets:

1. This story takes place several decades after Arc 3. A lot of canon characters still exist, meaning I’ll be referencing them and what they’ve become. Eventually I might develop this into a whole future AU, and write all the alliances and everything, but for now I’ll just mention some key players.

2. These characters live in a city called Unity. In A Guide to the Dragon World, Anemone mentioned wanting to build an intertribal city for MudWings, SeaWings and RainWings. Well, guess what! She did, and that’s Unity. Unfortunately, it’s hard to make dragons to get along, especially when generational wounds linger from the War of SandWing Succession. To make matters more complicated, many Pantalan dragons have settled in Unity, bringing with them unfamiliar ideas and abilities.

3. To outsiders, Unity is a gleaming beacon of hope for intertribal cooperation. Most visitors don’t stay long enough to witness anything more. Residents live in an entirely different world. Unity is ruled by multiple factions, known colloquially as Hordes. Hordes control anything and everything they can get their claws on. Some Hordes, inspired by the Outclaws of the Scorpion Den, try to maintain justice within Unity. Most exist to amass wealth and power.

4. Hordes may be intertribal or tribe-specific. Even those exclusive to one tribe may call upon agents from another for their unique abilities. Alliances are constantly shifting, and if you gain a reputation with the Hordes, it’s best that you make yourself forgettable—or risk getting swept up in their plans.

AND NOW FOR OUR CAST:

Iridescence is a sly RainWing-SilkWing hybrid living in the city of Unity. Her striking colors make her stand out in any crowd, but more striking is her reputation. She is notoriously clever, conniving, and coy, using her delicate appearance to lull others into a false sense of security. She primarily trades Pantalan imports, but under cover of night, she deals in more…sinister goods. Poisons are her specialty. With the help of Kudzu, her leafspeaking assistant, she cultivates dozens of toxic plants to use in her concoctions.

Kudzu is a reserved, cynical LeafWing. He hails from a small group of LeafWings who, resenting Queen Sequoia’s push for peace, left Pantala in pursuit of isolation. To avoid his parents’ preaching about Pantalan politics, he spent most of time studying the flora and fauna of Pyrrhia. He would later move to Unity, where he studied under a SeaWing doctor and eventually opened his own practice. Soon after, he began working with Iridescence, helping her make poisons in exchange for funding his studies. His true passion is medicine.

Salamander is a timid, quiet MudWing. MudWing troops are a common sight in Unity, but nobody knows which she hails from. Salamander prefers to keep it that way. Her Bigwings, Caiman, is one of Unity’s deadliest Horde bosses. Salamander is rarely involved with her sibs’ crimes—they consider her much too anxious to bring along—except when they need her fireproof scales. As of late, Salamander has been spending more time in Caiman’s neighborhood, raising suspicions about her loyalties. Fortunately, she has an alibi. Rumor has it that Caiman has developed smokesickness, a rare and potentially fatal disease. As one of Unity’s mail carriers, it’s simply Salamander’s job to deliver her medicine.

If you read this far, wow! Thanks! I hope it was interesting. You’ll probably be seeing more of these characters on my blog. Feel free to ask questions, make OCs/suggestions for this AU, etc etc. I’ll share more of their story as time goes on.

As a bonus, here’s a size reference for the characters, based on my tribe headcanons:

The bases were made by Joy Ang. I got these from the Wings of Fire wiki—I can’t remember who posted them but I’ll try and update with them soon. Edits and colors made by yours truly.

[moodymisty]

Not the same anon but you remember that Death with cold and cynical s/o after the Well of Souls thing? I'm kinda intrigued about how that works, so can I request a oneshot for that?

Btw, after reading that entire thing, it sounds a bit like "Just Look My Way" from Helluva Boss.

Author's Note: Hello! I had a bit of trouble with this one, but I hope you still enjoy it :3 I'm trying to get the last few of the SFW requests done since the NSFW ones are becoming so long XD I'm proud of them, but they tend to take longer and get drawn out.

Relationships: Death/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1374

Death wouldn't consider himself unfamiliar with the feeling of death, as joking as it might sound to himself.

However the Well of Souls however had felt, different. It feels like no time has passed at all, like a blink of an eye; Though he can tell by the leaves on the trees and the structures around the Tri-Forge than more than a fair bit of time has passed.

A part of him had considered not even making this stop. His 'death' at the Well of Souls could serve as a perfect severing point between him and the Makers realm. He could just add it to the list of places he's traveled through and throw it behind him.

But he just couldn't do it. Against his better judgement, he just needs to make sure.

He'd never said goodbye to you, never told you where he was going; He'd just left you at the Tri-Forge, and had trusted in the Makers to keep you safe. He's sure they've done a fine job of that, in his absence. As much as he might've complained, he can't think of many at all that he trusts as much.

Death dismisses Despair and walks into the Tri-Forge, and within moments he can feel as if something is off.

He's quite familiar with feeling unwelcome in any place unfortunate enough to have him present, but even this is a bit... intense.

The Makers on first glance can't contain their surprise at seeing the Reaper again, before it quickly sours. Death wonders how long he's really been gone; He imagines not much longer than a season, if the weather is anything to go by. It had been quite warm the last time he'd been here, and now the Makers realm is quite a bit colder.

He continues forward, and it's not longer after he passes the outer forges that he crosses the old warrior he remembers from the beginning of that long journey that led him to the Well of Souls.

Valus gives him one cold look; For once the reaper might've preferred seeing Alya.

"You have quite the pair to come back around here again after what you did."

Death lets out a quiet scoff. He knows what the Maker is referring to, but decides to beat around it. Why he can't hazard a guess, it slips from his lips behind the mask before he has a chance to really stop it.

"After what? Attempting to save War? I believe you all helped me in that endeavor, last I remember."

Valus crosses his arms across the expanse of his chest, and nods in the direction deeper into the forge.

"You have a lot to work on, Reaper. You might be able to talk like that to me, but you ain't gonna do that with them."

So you're still here. That fills him with more relief than he'd ever dare utter out loud. He doesn't know why he even thought you would be gone- the Human realm is still off limits, as well as a crumbling wreckage.

Valus, as much as it seems to physically hurt the Maker, directs him in your direction before not giving the reaper much more than a scornful parting glare. Death takes it in stride- it isn't the first time- and keeps moving until he finds you.

But he can't contain the raising of his posture when he sees you, your back turned to him. You don't seem to know he's here as of yet, occupied with something else.

He notices in your lap is Dust; He'd put the bird in charge of keeping an eye on you shortly before he had 'died'. He'll give the bird a piece of carrion for sticking though with it. Though he isn't very much surprised, as the bird had taken a liking to you quite quickly. It helps that you were more than eager to snuggle and give the bird scritches, unlike himself.

You tenderly scratch the bird on the back of the neck and earn an appreciative warble, before the crow notices him and abruptly begins to squawk, jumping on your thigh and flapping his wings. You look down at him and pinch his beak for a moment, trying to distract the bird.

"Quiet Dust, geez." The bird fluffs up and continues to caterwaul, until his old master finally speaks up.

"I don't appreciate you yelling at me, bird."

He notices your body tense up and raise suddenly, and you look over your left and see him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. The crow lowers his tone and still warbles deep in his throat, but stops the flapping and alarm bells.

And then your face drops back to neutral, and you turn away.

Dust hops gently on your thigh and looks up at you, taking a chunk of your clothing in his beak and attempting to pull at it. He gets gently brushed to stop doing it, and settles back into a fluffy black loaf.

Death takes the hit to his pride a bit harder than perhaps he should have, considering his attempts to feign nonchalance for anything other than your fragile mortality. He had expecting you to have that brightness to your eyes and jump up and run to him, like you'd had the myriad of times he'd left you for even the shortest while. He'd thought it was annoying, but now he finds himself almost craving it as your back faces him. He misses the happiness, the energy. It's like it's all evaporated from you now.

This is what Valus was referring to, it seems.

"Quite the greeting," He says, gesturing with his hand for his crow to finally return to his master. His duty is done after all, he did what Death asked of him.

Dust distinctly hesitates for a moment, before eventually giving in and flying back to rest on the top of Harvester. Meanwhile you turn around and give him a venomous look, crossing your arms.

"You gave so little of a shit about me you couldn't even say goodbye, Death." You just shrug your shoulders and turn away, like you can even tolerate the look of his mask. "Now that you picked up your bird, you can leave. I'm sure you have somewhere much more important to be. I'll be fine with the Makers." "Though I doubt that was ever a concern for you."

He supposes that you aren't wrong to think that. He never did tell you more than what he absolutely had to. In that moment, and the many times he'd neglected to tell you things beforehand, he thought he was doing the best thing. And keeping his feelings at arms length.

Keeping yours at arms length too; He could tell you were getting more and more attached to him, and that he needed to keep it from happening before you ended up too entrenched in something that would only end up getting you killed.

But he hates the way that your admittance to thinking he doesn't care about you hurts.

He does care; Far too much, if Death had any say in it.

He gives far too much of a care for someone as old and dejected as him. One of the first things that came to his mind when he left the Well of Souls was you.

He supposes this was bound to happen. Everyone eventually comes to hate him, in the end. It's his lot in life.

Though this one hurts far worse, and he finds himself wishing to fix it far more than any of the others. To make matters worse, his crow hefts himself off of his scythe and returns to you, as you get up and move to walk away.

As you pass he raises his hand ever so slightly to grab your arm and stop you- he doesn't even know what he'd say to you if he did- but drops it. You don't notice, and keep walking away right past him.

Death supposes he deserves this.

But while he finds himself unsure on what to do, he knows he has to do something. He isn't going to let you go like all of the others that have wandered through his life. He just doesn't know where to start.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 28

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

If you weren’t with that man, you would be blown away. You would be absolutely floored. In awe of the private jet, its luxury leather, and pristine interior. Never in your life, scrubbing floors, dredging through the misery of the day-to-day, did you dream of this. You never even aspired to it. You thought, foolishly, you could be happy with just Colin.

Then this man, this dumb man and his mustachioed complexes, walks into your life and ruins it all. And now, he is up to something new. Something you’re certain is just as vile and callous. As always with Lloyd, you just can’t guess at what.

You lean on the armrest, anxiously teetered on the edge of the seat, as you watch the clouds dissipate into the blue sky. You won’t sit back and relax and let him get the best of you. You can’t let your guard down. Your fingers trace the line on your throat, still tender and throbbing.

“Baby,” Lloyd grabs your elbow. You tear away from him as you glance over, “why don’t you relax and have some bubbly?”

He offers a flute of champagne and you keep your face neutral. Your body language alone must give away your anxiety but you won’t crack. You drop your hand, and shrug.

“It’s a bit early to drink–”

“Time zones,” he pushes the glass closer, “who gives a fuck?”

You relent and take the flute by the stem. He takes his own glass as you stare at the bubbles and surprises you again as he clinks his brim against the crystal in your hand. You squint up at him and take a cautious sip. He gulps down half of his.

He wipes his upper lip instinctively and flings his hand away with a huff, “so, you don’t like surprises, babe? I figured you for the romantic type. I mean, the way we met… that was some sweet shit, wasn’t it? And for a loser.”

“Please, Lloyd,” you take another drink, deeper.

“I know, sensitive spot. Still.” He growls and sits back, tossing back the last of the champagne, “I’m gonna help you forget about that jackass. You know, you should be thanking me because that’s exactly what I've been tryna do this whole time.”

“Uh huh,” you hum doubtfully.

He sets his glass down on the table at his elbow and clucks. He leans back and smooths his hair with his palm. His fingers twiddle along his cheek as he thinks.

“You’re such a fucking cynic,” he says, “why the fuck are you so heartbroken?”

Your lips part despite yourself. Why would he ask? Why would he even care? He doesn’t. He’s mocking you. Again. Trying to draw out a reaction.

“I’m not,” you assure him and drain your glass, “I am just… aware of my worth now.” You put aside the crystal and sniff, “thank you for showing me that.”

He lets out a long, gristly breath. He pushes his head to the side so it pops, then to the other, another stiff crack. He sighs and rolls his shoulders, wiggling as he settles back against the chair.

“I got an idea,” he intones.

You look at him. Whether you ask or not, he’s gonna share it and it’s no doubt going to be stupid.

He reaches to his fly and undoes it, smirking as he lifts his hips slightly to roll down his pants. He’s not wearing any briefs. You don’t think this is an entirely organic thought. You peek over towards the cabin, a curtain separating you and the staff.

“Ah, don’t worry about them, they don’t come back here unless I tell em too,” he pulls out his dick and strokes himself. He’s only half-hard, “it’s gonna be a long flight–”

You brace yourself. What is it? Hand job? Your mouth? Or maybe he wants it all.

“Sit in daddy’s lap,” he orders as he plays with himself, teasing himself to fully cocked.

You inhale and push yourself up. You hide the roll of your eyes as you sidle in front of him. You reach back to brace the wide armrests and lower body slowly over him. He slides his hand up your skirt, rolling it up above your ass as he grips your hip and guides your back. He prods at your entrance and urges you onto him.

You hold your breath as he stretches you. He hooks his arm around your stomach and pulls you flush to him, forcing you down to your limit. Your nails sink into the leather as you shudder and gulp. He keeps you against him as he leans back and his thumb flicks against the switch set into the arm rest.

The chair reclines and he brings you to lay atop him, sheathed in you. He doesn’t move as the back angles below him and his other arm loops around you, his hand sliding beneath the dress and cupping your tit. He purrs as the tension seeps from him.

“I always like a good nap on a long flight,” his mouth tickles your crown as he speaks.

You don’t reply as you wrinkle your nose. You’re rigid atop him, uncomfortable around him. He’s smothering you to the point of misery. Just another game, you tell yourself.

“Relax,” he squeezes your chest, his thumb toying with your nipple, “and sit still. I just need you to keep my dick warm while I get some shut-eye.”

You stare at the curved ceiling of the plane. How long are you going to be trapped on this flight? Does it matter? You doubt what comes after will be any better. You let your head rest against his shoulder and fight to ease your taut muscles.

“Good girl,” he groans as he fondles your chest, his other hand trailing up to touch the cut at your throat. A subtle reminder. Maybe even a threat.

💎

You ache emptily as Lloyd takes your hand. A gesture that troubles you more than the mile-high catnap. You don’t fight him as he tosses the keys for the rental to a valet and tells him to get the bellhop to unload his bag. 

The entitlement roiling off him makes you want to hide. It’s almost embarrassing how he speaks to them. You were once in their position, seen as nothing more than a shadow cleaning up after the VIPs.

He guides you through the front doors of the hotel, tall glass barriers with sleek golden handles. It’s the sort of place you saw on those reality shows about pampered housewives. The type you bitterly envied behind a glass of cheap wine.

As much as you feel displaced, Lloyd appears entirely in his element. He changed before you disembarked. A pale blue suit over a gauche floral shirt, unbuttoned too low on his chest, and a pair of dark sunglasses that added to his douchy veneer. The whole charade throws you off-balance. What is he doing?

As you approach the front desk, you assume he’s drawing out the inevitable. That for you, a return trip might be out of the question. His cryptic behaviour bolsters this suspicion and the way he clings to your hand heightens your disease.

“Hello, sir, welcome to The Paridisia, are you checking in?” The pretty clerk behind the desk greets. Her dark curly hair is pinned back to spill perfectly down the back of her ivory blouse.

“Hansen,” he replies.

He flips up his sunglasses and raises your hand. You tug against the sudden motion and he squeezes tighter, kissing your knuckles as he sends you a wink. You let your arm hang limp from his grasp.

“Oh, yes,” she says as her manicured nails hit the keys, “the honeymoon suite.”

You nearly choke as Lloyd releases your hand and snakes his arm around you, drawing you close, “you know it.”

“Congratulations,” the clerk says brightly, “you two look so happy.”

“Overjoyed,” he affirms as his hand falls down to your ass and he squeezes, “she’s a bit spontaneous, you know? Eloped and all that.”

You blink dumbly as you peek over at him. Are you supposed to play along with this? What is he playing at? Does he really think this if fucking with you? It’s weird but it’s not… terrible. A free vacation?

No, he’s got something else planned. He has to.

“We have everything ready for you, Mr. Hansen,” she slides over an envelope trimmed in gold, “and if there’s anything you need, you just let me know. I’m Martina.”

“Thank you, Martina,” he takes the envelope, “you can have them bring the luggage up to us.”

“Of course, sir,” she smiles.

Lloyd taps your ass before he veers you towards the elevator. You take short steps beside him, crossing your arms as you try to figure him out. He hits the golden button and you look up at the arc of numbers above as they light up one at a time.

“I’m just going to ask it,” you say under your breath, “what the fuck is going on?”

He snickers as the elevator dings and he ushers you aboard. The doors shut as you turn around and he plays with the hem of your skirt.

“Surprise, baby,” he slithers, “you get to be Mrs. Hansen for the weekend.”