#specifically that region too so I know my shit

[everwalldigan]

Hey I am having a scene in a fic where a very high strung moment Damian begins to curse in Arabic. What would be the correct way to phrase that?

Thank you

Ooh great question! There are a LOT of very colourful Arabic curse words varying in severity but in Damian’s case he was like raised to very strict and high manners, so even in high strung situations he probably wouldn’t use the colloquial “lower class” swear words. I’m going to list some of the “less vulgar” swear words I know (keep in mind I’m Iraqi and these are the swear words I know in my dialect and ones in high Arabic, there are soo so so many more.)

The most generic swear words insult the parents so you’d say “yabn ___”

Yabn Al kalb (son of a dog) or you could skip the parent and call them a dog (kalb) (tho idk how insulting Damian would find that cause he loves and respects dogs)

Yabn Al lai’in (son of the cursed) (this one’s so clean I’ve heard it in kids cartoons before) you could also just say “Al la’ana” which means “the curse” could be used as “shit”

Honestly Damian would probably use High Arabic swear words and sound like an Arabic dub character ASHSJSJDJ absolutely hilarious to any other Arab person in the vicinity.

Al’ama (Lebanese/yemeni region dialect) or as we like to say “a’amaaaaaaa” meaning the blindness, could be substituted for “damn!”

You could also make him say “ya a’ama” (you blind person) (keep in mind those are the tamest I can think of, the other ones are MUCH more offensive)

You could always go the route of Damian saying… angry sounding words in Arabic that aren’t REALLY swear words just to let out his frustration without everyone in the close vicinity understanding him. You can just make him rant about the situation in Arabic, maybe with some choice words like “ahlbal” (naive) or “ghabi” (stupid)

If you want to know ones in a specific dialect I can help with that too, I know Egyptians have some really funny ones (ya nhar iswid! - oh black day) and idk how much you wanna tie him to Islam but we also like to literally curse people (eg: Allah ya’amik - may god blind you or Allah yagbirak: may god put you in the grave)

If it’s from another persons POV who doesn’t know Arabic they wouldn’t be able to distinguish anything from an angry ranting boy, if it’s from Damian’s POV you can say “he says some choice words his mother would smack him for” or something like that cause again he was raised in a VERY high class setting, as a prince basically and cursing would be “beneath him”

[multiheadcanons]

THE MERCS AS SONG LYRICS BUT I WROTE THE SONGS THE LYRICS COME FROM AND THERES NO CONTEXT AT ALL BECAUSE THESE SONGS AREN’T ANYWHERE FOR YOU TO HEAR THE CONTEXT (MAYBE ONE DAY)

scout: “i’m teeny but you still look up to me so stay squeaky” i don’t know why when i go through my files that this line always stands out to me when i read it. something about it is cheeky; it’s a smart-ass, corny ass comeback to something i personally have heard most of my life. and i think scout would say “stay squeaky” as a warning too. keep your shit clean, because scout will know if it’s not. he’ll go out of his way to find out what dirt there is on you.

soldier: “and i won’t ask you to wait for me/i’ll be free all year, i guarantee” soldier is a man who moves to the militaristic beat of his own drum. he doesn’t really think he’s too far ahead, or behind, his peers. and he doesn’t need his hand held if he finds out he is either. he is content with himself. he is content even when he’s dead. and he’s always available. so nobody should be worried about him either. he can handle himself. damn. i miss you rick. you were a good man.

pyro: “you may not be the sun but baby, you are my star!” pyro is not my personal absolute favorite character (i think we all know who that is) but that doesn’t stop pyro from being one of my FAVORITE characters to write about! pyro is fascinating because i can essentially say pyro is whatever i want them to be, and as long as i’m hitting a few key points of what we do know about pyro i am well within the confines of canon. pyro is my star. they’ve grown to mean so much to me. but i’ve also never really seen a characterization of pyro that i have really liked and enjoyed; and i’m still not sure if i even like my characterization of pyro! but dammit, this pyro is my pyro. there are many others like them, but this one is mine. pyro is like an s-tier self insert.

demo: “when i get involved, it’s getting worse than intended” this whole verse that this line very specifically is in is soooo funny to me, personally. it’s explosive, it’s vicious, it’s humorous! it’s a lightning strike of so many sentences coming at you. and it’s demo the man. very particularly this line, because to me, if demo is in on something it’s about to go so far out of left field nobody will be able to stop it. he’s learned he is a man who can hear gossip, and shouldn’t get himself involved in it. doesn’t stop him from stepping in sometimes! sometimes you just need a little oomph!

heavy: “i find the bright to be a fickle kind” anyone here a legends of avantris fan? i initially wrote this while watching icebound in my car in the middle of a winter’s night, freezing my ass off because i didn’t want to turn my car on and disturb my neighbors. and i looked up, and the sky was crystal clear; and the moon was directly above me. so i wrote a love song to the winter moon, while listening to a bunch of dnd characters suffer in an icy wasteland. there’s something about big quiet men from already bitterly cold regions that i do think they have an emotional connection to the moon. to its fickle nature in appearance. and i think heavy thinks a lot about what the people who surround him say about him. something about the men he’s grown close with. they bode ill omens. he can’t shake the feeling.

engineer: “communion wine, do you think it’ll save you?” that man knows what he’s doing at all times. he has sacrificed many morals to get where he is now. and he knows there is no coming back. as nice as he may be. he’s an eternal ticking time bomb. it just depends on what’s going to blow up in his face first and take him from this realm of existence. and he knows he’s not seeing the pearly gates. he enjoys what he does far too much.

medic: “the keys lie somewhere between marrow and bone” i didn’t realize i actually wrote this song about the doctor until i went back through and read it. i actually innately understand the doctor because i am him frfr. i was genuinely going batshit insane when i wrote that, overcome and consumed by an obsession i could not and still can not let go of, and watching a lot of saw. and the only way i could let it go is when i get what i need. but it’s lodged so deep, i will have to break myself to get to it. the doctor is willing to break others to get it.

sniper: “i know what i am in.” snipes isn’t dumb. snipes is keenly aware of every decision he’s made that has gotten him to this point. the issue he finds with it is he doesn’t know where else he would go from here. he wouldn’t know what other decisions to make in the past to change what he became today. all he’s done is remain as truthful to himself as he could be; and he’s really banking on that being enough to get him by.

spy: “it sorts the foes from confidants.” spy is discerning, a purposeful and professional metaphorical button pusher. and it’s his dickish nature that is one of his best litmus tests to discern who he can trust and who he can’t. and if you’re not with spy, you are indeed against him. and he treats you accordingly.

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

Hazel has a deep love for Jazz and bands in general.

She not only grew up in New Orleans, but in the French Quarter, where there are lives bands performing all day, trying to make it big and get fast cash.

She was probably very disheartened to see the city after the storm. HOO takes place in, what, 2009? 2010 maybe? Doesn’t matter, it was after Katrina.

Like imagine coming to an unknown world that’s set 70 years in the future, but not only is your home not the same, the best parts are underwater or destroyed.

Hazel’s accent is probably very unique because while French has mostly left the vernacular of the people, she’s from a time where it was still around, if only a little bit. So it’s southern, yes, but it as vowels and pronunciations that belong to the French.

She speaks French, buts it’s mostly broken, because again, the language has started to leave the city and its people.

She likes coffee with bread and will eat spaghetti or red beans seven days out the week.

I like to think Nico brought her a beignet at some point after her resurrection, because one, it’s delicious, and two, it reminds her of home.

Her favorite time of the year was Madi Gras back when she was alive, the first time at least. She loved hearing the bands play and she got front row seats since the parades come through the Quarter.

[sovamurka]

I've been rotating exlibrium spb au in my mind for quite a while...

[tanadrin]

Fell down a rabbit hole on ancient Israelite child sacrifice and it’s interesting that 1) it’s basically impossible (without jumping through absurd apologetic hoops) to explain important parts of the Hebrew Bible unless they are reacting to, being revised against, or being overlaid on a literary stratum which assumes the existence of Yahwistic child sacrifice; 2) as such it seems there is a very ancient strand of religious law (renegotiated at a very early date!) which specifically commands the sacrifice of all human and animal firstborn males; 3) like all religious law in the Bible, “one group of elites produced religious literature commanding a thing” doesn’t mean that those commandments represent actual universal and uncontested practices—indeed, one of the reasons people produce religious literature is to argue for a set of practices or to shore up their own position by portraying it as normative, and there is very little evidence that the ancient near eastern law codes (religious or secular) produced for propaganda purposes were used like we might use a modern law code; 4) the Canaanite/Phoenecian/Punic/Northwest Semitic religious milieu was certainly one in which infant sqcrifice was at least irregularly practiced, but no such archeological remains have been found in ancient Israel, but by their very nature this kind of infanticide leaves very little remains behind: infant skeletons are small and mostly cartilage, fire seems to have frequently been involved in such sacrifice, and the reason evidence of Carthaginian child sacrifice survived is bc such remains were interred in jars in Carthaginian tophets. 5) While a lot of modern commentators balk at taking the plain meaning of the relevant passages of the Bible seriously, and think that on grounds of basic social and emotional realism they cannot be read as supporting the existence at one time of Yahwistic child sacrifice, we really do not understand the realities of living in an Iron Age society with its attendant phenomenally high infant mortality rates, where many parents seem to have bonded with their children much later, and fertility rates were much higher to compensate for the basic reality of how often babies died. I would add to that my hunch that people in the ancient past were by modern standards just more likely to be traumatized in general, and that probably fucks up how you deal with violence and the value of human life and how you build systems which create social meaning out of death, too. “People in the past were human beings who loved their children” is not incompatible with “people in the past did horrific shit occasionally because they thought it was spiritually, socially, or materially necessary.”

And I am in some ways sympathetic to people who are reluctant to accept evidence of ancient Israelite, or even ancient Carthaginian child sacrifice. It’s so alien to our own moral sensibilities—it is in fact utterly repugnant to them! Ergo the urge to try to read the evidence differently, even if it requires wild contortions. But we know that (for instance) the death penalty and exposure of infants and religious ordeals would have all been common in the region and it seems a small step to me to imagine some ritualization of these practices that at least imbues infanticide with some kind of deeper spiritual significance, if for no other reason than as a kind of cope. In a way it’s encouraging that we have come so far that we refuse to believe any society could have ever endorsed such a thing. Nor is it a recent transition: much of the overt violence and bloodshed of the ancient Israelite law codes was renegotiated away thousands of years ago, and the renegotiation of child sacrifice happened so early that it was a major part of the formation of those codes in the form that we have them now. That too is encouraging—you don’t need modern, historically contingent sensibilities to look at brutal social systems and go “fuck this, let’s replace them with something kinder and more humane.” That tendency is as much a part of the basic forces that drive human history as our violence or our shortsightedness is.

[evilminji]

You know? I kinda wonder...

In a Self Insert type scenario, in Star Wars?

They would be MUCH more open to listening to "buddy, a storm's comin'" type warnings. Their Cannon knowledge, even if spotty, would probably echo with the Force and draw its attention to them somewhat. Because they KNOW.

KNOW what is going to happen. Not guess. Not assume. KNOW. Like the Force does. And that? Coupled with their inherent strangeness? Would make them the oddly colored duck of the flock, as it were. Not Super Important... buuuut? Easy to spot.

One of the Force's Blorbos.

Just cause, really. Cause they look funny. The Force doesn't even have a plan for um! But they turned up, ate the Force's food, and look at their wittle faaaace~☆! So it's keeping them. You know... assuming they survive.

Which?

Brings me to my point?

Since they LISTEN? The Force probably chatters like a mofo. Since a Self Insert would be anxious and constantly ASKING for wisdom. For help. A friend. Guidance of any kind. The Force would be draped around them like a particularly pleased with itself shoulder cat. A hovering backseat driver.

Because you DO keep asking, after all.

It's like muscle memory. Building strength. Not... not GREAT, in all actuality? Because Self Insert is avoiding making their OWN choices, probably out of fear? But on the OTHER hand? Both of them KNOW that there is literally a Sith Master like... less then 5 minutes away from where they live. Constantly.

And they are a Youngling.

So???

At What Point?? Does the Force? Engage "Fuck it, we take our baby and run" protocols?

Just? FULL ON "you stop midway through making your dinner, turn off the soup, pick up your kids, leave the house, and NEVER LOOK BACK". Because? Yes. The Jedi KNIGHTS and MASTERS may have vows to try and protect the people of the Republic?

BUT THE YOUNGLINGS DO NOT.

They, in fact, need to be PROTECTED.

And if the Force itself? Says "if you stay here, they WILL die."? You gotta go. Hopefully? You have enough warning to like... pack a ship. But, ya might NOT. Might just be "aaaand, everybody put down your pads! Suprise field trip to Anywhere Else! IMMEDIATELY. Single file, younglings. No running!" Like?

What would you do?

I kinda wanna see it.

Just this somber, vaguely haunted, crechling walking up to import figures like Madam Nu and Yoda going "if I tell you The Force told me we have to take the younglings, ALL OF THEM, and any history we think is worth preserving, and LEAVE... would you listen? Or would you let us die here?" With their tiny lil face and to serious expression.

Like a prophet of Doom.

And WHERE? Exactly? Are they supposed to go? Oh, simple. They are to Trust In The Force. And let it guide them. Out IN THE UNKNOWN REGIONS of wild space! Because THATS fine! Is this a joke?

No.

No the youngling is dead serious. Terrifyingly serious. Has been studying how to pilot a shop like they will have to do so THEMSELF. Asking questions that paint a concerning portrait of a child that fully intends to take their peers on this journey, with or without them.

And the Force? The Force says they MUST. That it is impossibly important they DO.

WELL THEN....

Do they... TELL anybody?

No. Not a single soul. Specifically, not a single soul In The Senate. Ah. Concerning! Guess we're? "Losing" a ship in the war? Oh dear. Such casualties. All those lives. Oh noooooo, and such and so forth. UNRELATED note! It's been FAR too long since this temple was cleaned! Unacceptable. You, random clones definitely not assigned to that ship we definitely just lost! Help us... clean!

Just?

The power of "fuck it, we took our ball and went home/left"? Should be USED more in fics. The Force TOTALLY knows where some sweet, sweet habitable planets are. You'll NEVER fuckin find them if they don't want you too! An entire temple of Jedi asking for the SAME thing? Versus a crusty lil shit?

They asked first. And nicely!

With THIS, balance is maintained. Not through FORCE. But through walking away for a bit. Allowing OTHERS to decide if this is what THEY want for themselves. Order 66 may or may not still happen? But? At most? All you would kill is the current fighting adults. Not the teachers. Not the elders. And CERTAINLY not the young.

They? Are far away. Where the Force is still clear and the light is strong. Growing up. Reflecting on what went wrong. Farming. Building a new temple with the Clones. You know, the ones who didn't have their comms. Never GOT that dreaded order. Get to live free men on a peaceful planet.

Cause historically? You send your kids AWAY from active wars zones. Places that are priority targets for your enemies. And if the Force itself is saying "move the babies"? Welp! Guess you gotta move um, don't ya? It's scary. Uncertain.

But it is an act of faith.

And I just? Wanna see Sith's plans just COMPLETELY fuckin implode? Because they could not plan for Faith. For Trust and Community and Hope. All the things they believe so trite. So worthless. The very things that would lead grown adults, POWERFUL PEOPLE, to actually? LISTEN to a mere youngling. Then follow their lead.

It would be?

Inconceivable to them.

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hypewinter @babbling-babull @hdgnj @starwarsblr @starwars

[mywitchyblog]

Debunking anti-Aging Rethoric (Again)

Thanks @lizzy4president for this post, and I will debunk it accordingly. It seems that these cultists/Shiftokers don’t know shit about shifting or how it works. No matter how much theoretical knowledge you have about shifting, there are things you will never know unless you have shifted yourself—and I mean full-on shifts, not minishifts. That said, I will debunk this:

My age Changing Post :

My Masterlist :

So, let’s talk about the whole “aging down is weird because your consciousness retains your current age” nonsense that these people keep pushing. First off, this argument shows a fundamental misunderstanding of how reality shifting works. When you shift to a different age in your Desired Reality (DR), you're not just playing dress-up or pretending to be younger—you become that age in every sense of the word.

Immersive Experience: The Reality of Aging Down

In your DR, you don’t just take on a younger appearance while keeping the maturity of your Original Reality (OR) self. No, it’s way deeper than that. Your entire cognitive and emotional framework adapts to the age you’ve shifted to. If you script yourself as a 14-year-old, you don’t walk around with the mindset of a 30-year-old stuck in a teenager’s body. You fully embody the mindset, emotions, and maturity of a 14-year-old. This isn’t just about physical changes—your brain, your thoughts, and your emotional responses align with that younger age.

Neuroscience backs this up too. Maturity is tied to the development of specific brain regions, like the prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for things like decision-making and impulse control. When you shift, your consciousness adapts to the brain development appropriate for that age in your DR. You’re not lugging your OR brain around; instead, you’re operating with the cognitive equipment that matches your DR age. This means that in your DR, you’re not a 30-year-old thinking like a 14-year-old—you’re truly 14 with the maturity that comes with that age​.

Debunking the Consciousness Retention Myth

Now, some folks seem to think that when you shift to a younger age, you somehow retain your OR “adult consciousness.” This is pure bullshit. When you shift, your consciousness isn’t this fixed, immovable thing that drags your OR mentality into your DR. It’s adaptable and fluid. If you script or intend to be a teenager, your consciousness adjusts to that reality—period. There’s no “adult awareness” hanging around in the background. Your thoughts, decisions, and reactions all align with your DR age​.

The Fallacies Behind Anti-Aging Rhetoric

Let’s get into the nitty-gritty of why these anti-aging arguments are straight-up flawed. The rhetoric used against aging down is packed with logical fallacies that just don’t hold up when you actually understand shifting.

Straw Man Fallacy: This is when someone misrepresents an argument to make it easier to attack. Anti-aging down critics love to claim that anyone who shifts to a younger age is doing it for creepy, inappropriate reasons. They simplify the complexity of shifting into a caricature, which makes it easier for them to criticize. But that’s not how it works. Shifters age down for countless reasons��healing, exploration, nostalgia—and it’s not all about sexual or romantic intentions​.

Hasty Generalization: This fallacy happens when someone takes a limited number of cases and makes a broad, sweeping statement. Anti-aging rhetoric often assumes that if one person ages down for inappropriate reasons, then everyone who ages down must be doing the same. This ignores the vast majority of shifters who age down for completely innocent and personal reasons. Thesehoes need to stop making assumptions based on a few bad apples and recognize the diversity of experiences in the shifting community​.

False Equivalence: Here’s a big one. Critics often equate shifting to a younger age with being an adult in a child’s body in the OR, implying that it’s somehow the same as being predatory or inappropriate in the OR. This is a total false equivalence. When you shift, you fully become that younger self—your consciousness, maturity, and experiences align with that age in the DR. It’s not even remotely comparable to being an adult trying to live as a child in the OR​.

Slippery Slope: This fallacy suggests that if you allow one thing to happen (like aging down), it will inevitably lead to something much worse. Anti-aging critics often argue that allowing or accepting aging down will lead to more predatory behavior or normalize inappropriate desires or even the presence of pedophiles in the Shifting Community. But there’s no evidence to back this up. Aging down is about fully embracing and experiencing life at a different age, not about some slippery slope into immoral behavior​.

Addressing the Ethical Concerns

A lot of people throw around ethical concerns like they’re confetti, especially when it comes to aging down. They’re quick to scream, “But it’s creepy!” without understanding the actual reasons why someone might want to age down. Spoiler: it’s not always about romance or sex and in some cases it s even acceptable because you dont know why they do the things that they do what if someone got an traumatic event like SA in highschool and wish to replace it with a healthy moment ? Or someone got chated on and wished to see how things wouldve been ? Or someone was going to have an aooportunity like that but has missed out on it ? If someone yearns for the teenage romance eveyone and their mother in films movies and TV series love to push ? This is not shifting for predatory reasons far from it.

For many shifters, aging down is about healing or exploring stages of life they didn’t get to fully experience in their OR. It could be about reliving a simpler time, overcoming past traumas, or just enjoying the freedom and innocence that comes with being younger. It’s a deeply personal process, and it’s not inherently sexual or predatory​.

Infinite Realities and Subjective Morals

Let’s not forget that shifting involves infinite realities, each with its own set of rules and morals. What might be seen as inappropriate in one reality could be completely normal in another. This idea that OR morals are the blueprint for every DR is just plain wrong. If you’re aging down in your DR, it’s because that reality’s context allows it, and there’s nothing inherently weird or wrong about that. It’s time to stop judging DR experiences by OR standards​.

Conclusion: Embrace the Full Experience

In conclusion, aging down isn’t weird, predatory, or inappropriate. When you shift, you become that age completely—mentally, emotionally, and cognitively. The arguments against this practice are based on misunderstandings, fallacies, and a lack of real shifting experience. Shifting is about exploring and fully immersing yourself in another reality, and that includes becoming the age you choose to shift to. So, the next time someone tells you that aging down is weird, just remember: they don’t know what they’re talking about, and you’re the one who truly understands the depth of the shifting experience.

[sbeep]

id love to know more about William!!! he seems like such a little shit and I adore him already

Of course!

William "Billhook" Farrier first slunk onto my drawing canvas when i was cooking up my Bahr Ezadir project and needed a straw man to explore set pieces with, but I enjoyed thinking about him a lot so he became Evaric's brother (and I eventually put some of my other medieval fantasy boys in the basket too so now they're a family).

He's a thief! A traveller, a pirate, an explorer, a ne'er do well, but there's a heart of (tarnished, scratched, dented) gold in there somewhere that gets the better of him when it comes to protecting friends and family.

He's well-travelled thanks to his life of adventure and crime and steals as many hearts as he does coins without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

He'll give everyone the benefit of the doubt except his big brother Cohle, and neither of them will admit they're both as awful as each other in their own special ways, but Bill has one high horse to sit on in that he always tries to mend the bridges he almost burns.

Bits and bobs:

He's the only one of the brothers that could go toe to toe with Evaric as adults and have a shot at beating him in a fight, but they've never seriously tried to find out.

His nickname is from the traditional forester/agricultural tool that in Britain (and possibly other european regions, idk!) had designs specific to a local area. The one closest to me is a Shropshire/Shifnal billhook! He still carries one with him in lieu of a dagger or handaxe.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billhook

Bill can't cast magic at all, not even a spell scroll, and boy has he tried. It'll never happen.

Neither Alice nor her first husband and their sons have freckles. William and Deor do. Alice has never acknowledged this. You shouldn't either 🫵

[bambi-kinos]

A few more questions about our mysterious Paul, or more like his mind and his views. I know you get many asks and if you already answered this, just post a link (You might even be Paul j/k )but I do enjoy reading your thoughts) Ok so what do you think he means when he talks about John and their relationship was like. When he says things like he's so obviously straight because of all the girls he's had, John wasn't gay, or that if he was a girl maybe he could go out and do something about John being with Yoko, "in bed" etc. Or John. (Don't think he had lots of gay phobia too despite what "they" seem to think now. Or what George, Ringo or any one of his age would think about it. Obviously Paul and John too Don't seem too clear what they where. Still never really heard anyone else talk the way they do about partnership if there wasn't some love happening. Also did Liverpool men that time really lived that tough, not hugging each other. Wasn't it a bit known for a gay town? Or is that maybe later) sorry for spellings and grammar typing stuff my phone isn't used to. Lol Hope you understand my ask. Love your posts.

I'm given to understand that men from the Northern half of the UK are actually very affectionate with each other. Lots of back slapping and chuffing and affectionate punching and so forth. @scurator has talked about it a bit and is a better source than I could ever be. But the evidence points towards Northern men actually being very chummy and expressive with each other, especially Liverpool. Sailors are passionate by definition, of course the quintessential international sailors' town will be like that too. It is Paul's specific personality defects that have him saying bonkers shit like "we didn't show each other physical affection" while there are photographs of Paul and John pressing together, bumping shoulders, clapping each other on the back, etc. Which are all typical guy-things that men do to signal "I care about you, you're important to me" to each other. Paul would lose nothing by admitting this when the evidence is clear in front of our eyes. But Paul is Paul, so he can't.

When it comes to Liverpool being a "gay town" what that really means is that Liverpool is a port city with a high population of sailors. Houston Texas, where I grew up, is the exact same way. It's a hive of international traffic with thousands of dock workers and sailors running the joint. Sometimes I used to go down to the port to watch them load and unload shipping containers. There are look outs where you can sit with a pair of binoculars and just watch them go. Liverpool has the same set up with the same population of international sailors running around. It isn't necessarily a "gay town" so much as it is a horny as fuck town that is exploding with vibrant international populations all with different ideas about what is sexually permissible and what is not. Lots of sexual openness and promiscuity that is out of step with the rest of the country, vibrant LGBT+ population despite the curtain of conservatism that strangles the rest of the region, very intense artsy culture that lives cheek to jowl with a macho blue collar population...

Now am I talking about Liverpool or Houston? Lmao. Let me put it this way, sailors will fuck anything that stands still long enough and that culture of sexual adventurousness rubs off on the people who build their lives around the international port industry. Paul and John grew up with that too. And if you're thinking that might screw with your head a little when you grow up being filled with all sorts of malicious lies about sex and relationships...oh boy does it.

When it comes to Paul insisting on heterosexuality regarding him and John: IMO this is a manifestation of his greatest fear, that someone may catch on that he fell in love with another man. I don't think Paul was ever truly ashamed of it when push came to shove but that doesn't mean he wants people to know. It's private and Paul doesn't have a lot of privacy left.

Paul is also sharply aware of how dangerous it is to be gay. Paul knew about men being killed for homosexual activity, he was raised to despise it, he was raised to think there was no future in it, that only monsters and predators were homosexuals, all of that was browbeaten into him by Le Society and most likely his family. Remember that Brian Epstein would regularly get the shit kicked out of him if he propositioned the wrong man and sometimes even the right one. Paul wasn't encouraged to embrace Liverpool's seedy underbelly, that would be lunacy. As far as Paul's family knows he did the proper thing and got a girl pregnant out of wedlock (which must have been a big relief to them.) If he ever indicated that he had romantic feelings towards John then he would be lucky if the worst thing that happened to him was getting kicked out.

(That does not necessarily mean that was the reality of his situation. It's hard to know what Jim would do in that situation and I don't think he was blind. But that was what Paul and John were both raised to expect and that is the soup they boiled in while waiting for adulthood.)

And there are bigger things than just Paul and John's privacy and sexuality going on. There are trillions of dollars at stake when it comes to The Beatles.

So when Paul is professing his heterosexuality, when he's saying John wasn't a homosexual, when Paul leans on his experiences with women in interviews, that is what he is thinking of when he does it. Regardless of whatever actually went down between him and John, he has to protect that image while still projecting authenticity. It doesn't matter if it's actually real because John and Paul learned no one wants the real John and Paul. But he can still use his experiences to color his stories and protect John and himself, as well as the legacy of The Beatles.

And it should end there. Yeah?

Of course it doesn't. Or we wouldn't be here. Paul said bonkers shit about being a woman who could have stepped in between John and Yoko. That he was jealous of her and didn't like having her around. That it was a deep relationship with a lot of heat. That they went through a divorce. And then he eventually caved and start talking about how there was a deeper love between him and John, something neither of them had the understanding or vocabulary to express.

Even in death John has the power to undo Paul completely and force him to be vulnerable. Paul gets going out of nowhere it seems like, starts ranting and has to actively fight himself to make himself shut up. Now that he's older he can't really do that anymore. And probably doesn't want to, hence he randomly inserts anecdotes about John into conversations that have nothing to do with him. John has that effect on everyone he meets, he can demand total honesty from people. Paul isn't immune to that. So Paul will talk more and more honestly about himself and John, that they loved each other. And even if all he owns up to is the platonic aspect of it...well, that's a big deal for Paul.

It's hard to say if things will stay this way. Paul often seems like he's on the verge of saying something, isn't he? In the most recent documentary about the first Ed Sullivan appearance, he underlined John and George being his brothers and that he loved them. But that wasn't what he was saying when Now and Then came out and that wasn't what he showed us when he released Eye of the Storm and printed photos of John undressed and preparing for bed while Paul took photos of him. (Probably while Paul was naked in a bathtub if the cloth fringe over his camera lens was any indication.) Do you remember the furor around Now and Then and how the entire rock journalism industry seemed to be holding its breath for something? There's a reason why @frodolives made that point about "they're gentrifying McLennon."

Yoko will die sooner than later. Sean recently sold the Dakota condo and probably moved her upstate to that farm she bought in 1979/1980 so she could be in care. The diaries Fred Seaman stole and fenced were only partially recovered and there's online chatter that Paul's allies are safeguarding the remaining diaries and other resources that Fred managed to smuggle out under Yoko's nose. Peter Doggett's book "Prisoner of Love," which contains the unifying theory about WHY John stayed in the Dakota for so long, was spiked after advanced readers' copies started going out.

Something has changed behind the scenes and we're feeling the faintest tremors of it. I'm sure that we're only just getting started with regards to revelations to come.

[donutsupremacy]

Genshin men reacting to F!S/O accidentally burning her hands

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Summary:

"HCs of Genshin men reacting to their Pyro wielding!F!S/O burning her hands on accident while cooking"

Warnings / Spoilers:

Written during 4.2

Playable characters only

Reader has a Pyro vision, but the weapon choice is irrelevant

Reader is not traveller

Reader is their [S/O]

Female reader (I used as less pronouns as I could and still refer to as [S/O])

Short HCs

Sorted by region and in alphabetical order

Includes all currently playable male characters as of 4.2

Sweet petnames uwu

Ahhh so fluffy uwu

100% SFW because n o.

100% Ooc

Reader is aware of the archon's true identities

A/N: This is a requested fic— Not much specifics mentioned, so I decided to let loose a little.

Most of these HCs are rather generic and calm, I hope you don't mind, [Requester]. I see most of the genshin men we've encountered are actually mostly calm and polite gentlemen in game— yes, even Itto, but he's still Itto lol

I'll do Mondstadt, Liyue and half of Inazuma first, the rest will be done in a seperate post

P.S. yes i know there's a lot of spelling mistakes. and yes my poems, pick-up lines and jokes are utter shit, i am not a Kazuha/Venti kin :>

[Part 2 | Inazuma, Sumeru and Fontaine men]

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A hiss erupts from your throat as you quickly withdrew your hand from the fire.

Your singed hands trembled, examining the dark spots that had littered across your palms and even your knuckles and fingers. You clicked your tongue, regretting the decisions to cook without your gloves. If only they weren't torn from that expedition two days ago... you should really get new ones.

You hear the door open... "[Name]?"

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Mondstadt

Albedo

Immediately notices your hands getting burnt, nothing escapes the alchemist's observation skills. Plus, he knows how people react when accidentally burnt themseleves. His team works with chemical substances that require boiling and heating, after all. (And it's always Timaeus getting hurt while he's busy daydreaming about Ying'er while on the job lol)

"Here, allow me to have a look." Albedo murmured calmly, his gloved hand taking hold of yours, careful to not touch any areas that may have been made sensitive from the fire.

"It isn't favorable using your Pyro vision without your glove." He sighed, telling you to stay put as he wastes no time to treat the burn on your hand.

Albedo gently wiped your burned hand dry with a damp cloth, giving you a reassuring kiss on your forehead whenever he accidentally pressed too hard on a sensitive area.

Later, he applies a type of natural ointment that would supposedly heal your burn and hands you some medicine to take that would soothe the pain whenever it stings randomly.

He has you sitting on top of the counter, helping you finish cooking whatever you were trying to make while following your instructions— totally not a reason to spend more time for you. Nope. Haha. Totally not at all :>

"There we go... is this what you were trying to create perviously? *Chuckles* My dear crystalfly, next time... you can just simply ask for my help, you know I would always set my duties aside to aid you— no matter the situation."

Bennett

As expected; The first thing this poor boi does is blame his luck :(

He was practically on his knees, apologising frantically— he would rather get struck by a bolt of thunder from the Shogun herself than to accidentally inflict pain on his [S/O] who had stayed by his side despite his misfortune.

He's too afraid of possibly harming you more, even by a tiny little sting. Of course, he'll get you anything you asked for; A damp cloth, bandages, anything.

So he stands as far from you as he could, but still kept you in his eyesight, watching you patch yourself up as you calmly reassure him while he continued apologising. Poor boi.

At first, he was planning to go on an random expedition, so that you wouldn't end up getting hurt again because you were both under the same roof. But when you told him he can stay, wanting him to accompany you even risking your safety, he melted.

"You... Y-You do?... Ah, [S/O] are you... sure?... I-I really don't want to... Wha— H-Hey! Was that flour you just threw at my face?... Hahahaha! Oh, is that how you wanna play? It is on!"

Diluc

Prolly too busy in his office doing his work, but when Adelinde came in to his office, saying u got burnt, he dropped his work and ran straight to u.

The first thing he did was sigh in relief when he saw the burn mark was less severe than he thought

At first, Adelinde insisted to treat your wounds, but Diluc was just as insistent to take care of your wounds himself, only brushing her off and requesting for her to just bring some medical equipment before leaving the two of you alone.

Once she was gone, he lightly reprimands you for not using your glove. When you explained that you had accidentally torn it, he immediately took out both of his gloves and slipped it onto your hands, regardless of size he refuses to let you take them off if you wanted to cook.

He stays in the kitchen, watching over you and accompanying you as you cooked. If he sees you still struggling to cook because of the gloves size, he'll leave the easier tasks to you, while he takes over the more difficult tasks you couldn't. Not that he thinks you're incompetent— it's because he doesn't want to see you getting hurt again. Because seeing you in any form of pain hurts him more than it hurts you.

"Hm? No, there's no need to get the maids involved— we can finish this, quickly and smoothly. My work can wait. No more excuses, i'm finishing this recipe with you— I don't take 'no's or 'but's. Now, pass me the lid, love."

Kaeya

He'd probably chuckle at the sound of ur hiss first and at the pouty look on ur face, it's cute lol. But he'll help u soon after.

"Cooking using your Pyro vision without your glove isn't an ideal situation you would want to find yourself in, princess." Kaeya purred as he wraps your hand in a damp towel, carressing your cheek to soothe you with his free hand.

He decides that you should take a quick break— an excuse to cuddle you as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and forces you to sit on his lap as he rests on the couch.

Kaeya peppers you with butterfly kisses all over your face as he keeps one arm wrapped around your waist while holding your hand that you burnt.

He uses a small amount of his Cryo abilites, lightly cooling down your injury— Even placing a kiss on your knuckle, which caused your skin to tingle and numb the pain greatly. Did this sneaky bastard use his Cryo vision to enhance that kiss?

"*Chuckles*, I know that face, princess... are you suspecting me of being up to something again? I'm just as pure and innocent... Although— mayhaps I am a little guilty for abusing my vision slightly. I'm not justifying my reasons, but to be fair; I only abuse it for you. What can I say? I love making you melt~"

Mika

Mika has experience treating burn injuries for his peers while going on that long expedition with Grand Master Varka, so the first thing he does when he sees u hurt is...; p a n i k.

You're the one calming him down as he tries to treat your burn— smooth and effecient, as expected for someone like Mika.

Save for the little frantic 'sorry's he squeaks out when he accidentally tightens the gauze a little too hard or brushes his fingers against a more sensitive area.

Once he was done, he offers to take over the cooking, wanting you to take a break. He's persistent when it comes to pampering you, Mika doesn't want to risk you getting burned— again. (Doormat Mika is persistent to u only when it's for ur own good uwu)

Even when he's done, he doesn't make you lift a finger— he even feeds you. You always baby him, now it's his turn to baby you. Blowing on the food if it's too hot, pouring a drink for you, wiping away the crumbs or stains on the corner of your lips. Everything.

"A-Ah! No, no— let me get that for you... There's no need to worry, I really don't mind. Here, let me pour your another cup... Would you like it cold? Or hot? Ah— w-wait, don't use your vision to light up the stove again!... Please just let me use a match instead... I want you to relax..."

Razor

I think he'd try to lick ur burn or kiss it immediately lol

Probably doesn't actually know how to treat a burn properly, so he'll likely just gently kiss around the burnt area, making sure to avoid the sensitive patches

He gives you cuddles— lot of kisses, even has his Lupicals allow you to pet their soft fur. Anything to cheer you up.

He'd likely get you some meat to eat instead. But if you're a vegan/vegeterian, he'll go straight out to hunting your favorite berries in Mondstadt and bring back a whole potato sack of it

While you're resting, he sneaks off to see purple teacher lady and requests that she teaches him basic first aid training. It's just in case, but it hurts him that he doesn't know how to take care of your pain— so may Barbatos bless his soul because he's determined to learn anything complicated to ensure your safety <3

"Wait... no— n-no touch... it's too sharp. I don't want you to... risk hurting yourself. Again... Hm? No worry? But... seeing [S/O] almost hurt herself... not happy. Promise to me... you won't accidentally... hurt yourself again? You... mean too much to me...

Venti

I feel like he would drink those alcohol bottles that are specifically meant for numbing and disinfecting wounds. Yeah he def would. Canon.

He uses Anemo to lightly blow and cool down your burn, numbing the pain for you enough that a light kiss wouldn't sting. But he forbids you to continue cooking until your hand fully recovers.

After treating you to lunch (You paid), he sets you down on your couch, making you lay your head on his lap as he holds your burnt hand while carressing your head with his free hand.

If it still hurts or numb, he'll get a damp cloth and gently wrap your hand in it. To distract you from the uncomfortable feeling, he sings you various romantic and cute songs, even making short poetry (That he thought of immediately while staring at your pretty face)

"A cry of pain, shrieks of agony— Voices that conquer even the rumbles of thunder, and it's stories of tragedy— Flames that burn, brighter than light— But also inflicts harm that causes fright— Save your tears, my lucky windblume... Let your one and only make that sweet smile of yours bloom~"

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Liyue

Baizhu

Infinite/10 treatment. Get a doctor as ur [S/O] ladies

After Changsheng chides you for your carelessness— Baizhu shushes the snake and comes over to examine your wound, he doesn't take long to reassure you that it's not too severe.

Health comes first as he always says— so he carefully treats your burn, chooses the most effective medicine that wouldn't risk a single side effect.

He's got it all for you; Ointment that soothes burns, herbs that relieves pain and even butterfly kisses all over your face that never fails to put a smile on your face— kissing away any tears if the pain stung you gravely.

Once he's done with treating your wound, he has you sitting down and takes over your cooking— even making a remedy that can help alleviate numbness. He even spoon-fed you your own meal.

"Ah, you have a bit of a something at the corner of your lips. Let me get that for you, dear. *Smooch*... Hm? Your face is red! Have you been affected by a fever? Let's see... warm, bright red cheeks, eyes avoiding mine and the corner of your luscious lips trembling... I see now... *Chuckles* Maybe it was my kiss that got you like this~

Chongyun

Poor bby got overwhelmed with panik when he heard ur yelp and ran over to see u near f i r e

Luckily for you, he has that popsicle stash of his to cool and numb your burn, even giving you one to munch on. It was to cheer you up... but it doesn't really have flavour.

Once your wound has numbed, he tries to finish your for you— but the need to make it a perfect dish for you overwhelms him and he almost burns himself as well.

Still determined to cheer you up, he'll later treat you to lunch, bringing you to Wanmin restaurant and let you order your favorites. He'll treat it as a date.

You'll meet Xiangling there, cooing when she saw the two of you on a date. Luckily for Chongyun, he still has his popsicle before Xiangling's cooing could overwhelm him.

If you ordered something hot and spicy, he obviously can't share with you. But is willing to take a small tiny bite or sip for you, he'll even feed you if you'd like. If it's something cold, he'll definitely enjoy sharing the dish with you, letting you eat more of it if it's your favorite.

"Are you satisfied with today's date?... I hope I didn't look forced or nervous like last time. It's not that I don't enjoy our dates, my love... Oh, y-you seem to have caught on. Was I bad at hiding it?... I don't need to make everything perfect for you?... Ah, th-that's a little hard to adapt to, you can't blame me for always wanting everything to be flawless when you're quite perfect yourself, no?... *Shy chuckle*"

Xiao

U don't even need to call him— he hears u yelp, he goes "You called?" "AAAAA—"

Immediately reprimands you for thinking this was a good idea, even adding that it was pointless to cook when all mortal food tastes flavourless. But to make you feel a little better, he (quietly) compliments that your cooking at least has some flavour in them compared to the dishes other chefs made.

He's insistent on making you rest, claiming that you'll only burn yourself again, or worse, set your house into flames. You didn't even sucessfully light up the stove!

While you're busy treating your wounds, he vanishes without another word— secretly, he visited Yanxiao in Wangshu Inn, who agreed to make the dish you were making, only because he didn't want to upset the Adeptus and that he knew how much you meant to the Vigilant Yaksha.

It didn't take long for him to return, and if he caught you trying to light up the stove again without your gloves, he'll drag you away from your kitchen— Locking the door to it if he has to and quite literally carrying you over his shoulder like a potato sack, not a single peep of complain regarding your weight. He's strong for a reason.

He places you down on your couch and then offers you the dish, but was caught off guard when you said you wanted to share it with him. At first, he wanted to decline, saying that it won't have any taste... but that resilience of his crumbles immediately at a single 'please?' from you.

So there he sat with you, only taking a few small bites just to please you... and to see that cheeky little smile on your face. He doesn't peep a complain, only enjoying your quiet company and vice versa. Although he secretly cringes at the bland taste of the food, he finds it tolerable around you. He hopes you didn't catch his cheeks tinted a bright shade of red.

"...Another bite? If you insist... Hm? No, I don't have any comments or suggestions to this dish— it doesn't concern me... I-I'm not upset at you, it's just... I don't have a reason to eat mortal food, let alone enjoy it. This was honestly a waste of time... Oddly enough, I do find eating anything with you... quite sweet. Stop looking at me like that, i'm making this an exception just once... Can you feed me another bite...?"

Xingqiu

*Proceeds to splash the fire out with his vision*

You feel a pair of arms wrap firmly around you before you hear the voice of your boyfriend whispering sweet nothings into your ear, soothing you as he plants gentle butterfly kisses on your cheek.

He treats your injury like normal, having you rant about what happened to your glove while he quietly and patiently listens, just letting you speak to take your mind off the burn injury that he was healing.

Once he's done, he'll just have you rest your head on his lap, saying he'll ask Xiangling to cook for you later. As he does this, he'll read your favorite story, whether it be a fairytale, a history novel or even one of my oneshots. He uses a more gentle and calm voice, carressing your head every now and then.

However, as soon as he sees you fall asleep half way through thanks to his lullaby-esque voice, he sneakily plants a kiss on your lips... and proceeds to write a short story about you the next day; Of a young warrior who got defeated by a stove and was later cared for by their partner who happens to be their enemy. He loves writing private short stories for just the two of you, mostly made to tease you.

"How do you find the story, my liege?... Hm? Why does the main sound exactly like you? Haha~... What a curious question you have there in that pretty little head of yours. Riddle me this; How do you think the main character's love interest treated them? It's quite romantic, no? I'd say i've improved my writing with this story!... Well, maybe I exaggerated with the part where you fought a stove and lost~"

Zhongli

*Sends meteor towards the stove*

Does the same thing as the other; treat your injury with love and care, wrapping you around his arms as he carresses your back with gentle strokes, just overall enjoying eachother's presence.

At first, he suggests going to Xinyue Kiosk... until he was reminded that Childe was still healing in Fontaine after receiving a letter from him saying he got thrown into jail and fought a whale. Plus, Hu Tao is off to who knows where? Doing Archons knows what? He sure doesn't know.

Instead, he brings you to one of the Adepti's abode. Though, it's incredibly tedious as the journey itself is long (You're travelling up a mountain, duh). Halfway through, regardless of whether or not you're tired, he has you wrapping around your arms loosely around his neck, chest pressed against his back with his arms hooked beneath your legs— giving you a piggy back ride. Doesn't complain at all, he loves being this close to you.

There, he meets Cloud Retainer, who welcomes you to her abode (And chides you for your small injury like the mother she is), allowing Zhongli to use her 'Supreme Cuisine Machine' to make Bamboo shoot soup for you and it thankfully doesn't take long.

Cloud Retainer allows the two of you to have your little date on Mt. Aocang in peace, secretly watching over the two of you as Zhongli feeds you, with a fond smile and eyes that held affection towards you, the both of you enjoying eachother's company and the view on top of Mt. Aocang.

"Careful, it's hot... How does it taste? It is no trouble at all, [S/O]— this view is worth the journey, if it means I get to share it with someone I hold dear to my heart. Be it minutes or centuries, I cerish each moment with you, this one especially. Now, would you like another spoon?"

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Inazuma

Arataki Itto

*Proceeds to use sand on your injury* "...They said sand can put out fire! And that's what hurt you, didn't it???????"

Definitely doesn't know how to treat your wounds, but he does get Shinobu to help tend to your burn injury. Meanwhile, she not only lightly reprimands you for your recklessness... she full-on scolds Itto for not looking after you.

He pouts and whines, saying he was busy collecting lavender melons for you to cook with— although, he does feel really terrible for not being able to help. Who knows what would've happened if he had left for a little while longer?; You might've accidentally chopped a limb off, maybe even unintentionally cause a wildfire, or worse; accidentally putting his beetles in the soup!

To make it up to you, he... tries to sing for you. At least, he tries to 'up his game'. He gathers up his gang and Shinobu, makes them pamper you (Shinobu just has a nice conversation with you while the other three does Archons knows what), and that was when he does a very dramatic grand entrance as he starts to bellow out in the worst voice you've ever heard.

After shattering your eardrums, he shoos away the rest as he just wants some cuddling with you now. Singing takes a toll on him surprisingly enough. So now, there you sat on your couch, Itto's beefy arms wrapped around you as he tells you a story about a group of 'bandits' he encountered while collecting lavender melons for you.

"So there I was; Arataki 'The Unstoppable Force' Itto, surrounded by a group of bandits wanting to steal my hard earned stash of lavender melons! The nerve of these newbies, trying to steal my stuff meant for my 'One and Oni' señorita— I stood there, my weapon in hand and ready to make them wish they should've chose to play TCG with me instead of an all-out brawl!... Eh? What? You're saying those were just kids with mask because of their height and voices that I described?... You're not telling this to Shinobu, riiiiiight?"

Gorou

Very calmly puts out the fire... while sending barrages of 'ARE YOU OKAY?' towards u

He's a general, he knows the basics of treating small injuries like this... but his hands are noticably shaky, afraid of inflicting even the smallest sting on you by accident.

Whenever you winced just the slightest bit, the way your nose scrunched up at the most uncomfortable touch, your brows furrowed and eyes narrowing a little, he stammers out apologies after apologies.

Once he finishes treating your wound, his ears flattened against the back of his skull, tail curled up as his shoulders drooped, mumbling that he should've taken more of those first aid training so he could ensure your safety. He's already lost too much on the battlefield, he doesn't want you to get hurt... even if it's just a small burn.

Ironic; You're supposed to be the one needing comfort, but you're the one comforting him instead, letting him lay on your [lap/chest] as you ran your fingers through his soft brown lockes, effectively calming him down by scratching the back of his ears and massaging his scalp with your fingers. Though, petting his soft and perfectly-groomed tail was enough to soothe your worries.

The two of you just simple laid there on your couch, his tail lightly wagging side to side as he curled up into you— he can feel vulnerable around you.

"Yes, my love... it feels so... so much better like this. Don't worry— i'm on break at the moment... Although, I might have to return to my post soon for my duties... Uhm... b-but i'm sure my peers can cover for me a little longer... I really need this..."

Kamisato Ayato

Boba

First thing he does is wrap his arms arouns your waist, pulling you into a gentle hug, you face resting against his chest as his gloved hands carressed the back of your head, cooing and lightly teasing you for being impulsive while cooking.

Has Thoma patch you up since he's more qualified and careful for that. Ayato has you sitting on his lap, cuddling you with that calm puppy-like smile of his while Thoma is the one scolding you for burning yourself on accident.

But after that, he brings you out on yet another date; Strolling around Inazuma City and by the beach, then bringing you Uyuu restaurant for lunch— letting you order your favorites. He even buys a drink and asks for 2 straws, wanting to share it with you (and so see your flushed cheeks when the two of you were drinking, noses nearly touching)

This is for those who like reading any type of books; After filling your bellies, he takes you (a little begrudgingly, but he loves you) to Yae Publishing House and lets you buy another book for your collection. And when he finds you reading a romance novel, he rests his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as he teases your flustered reaction— saying there's no better love story than your story with him.

"Were you satisfied with today's date? Ah, perfect... I see my method with making you forget that little injury of yours worked. A win-win for the both of us; you get to forget about your embarrassing moment and get to have your favorites— and I... deserve this for all my hard work; *Smooch*~"

[mt-oe]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡—modern mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

So sorry for not doing requests much! I'll be deployed into a hospital known for being super busy ;; I'd like to get my ideas out before I become buried with work again.

This one's inspired by my favorite artist. They recently followed me back here and I melted ///// Every time I see their art, I always get so giddy and happy. They honestly make my day <3

I'll link them here: @winnie-illustrator / ig: winnie_illustrator / twt: babydollproject

Specific art that inspired me is linked here: link <3

Also, I feel excited because I want to try incorporating my field into my writing too. It won't be completely accurate to give it a sense of readability and because that would be hell to write www

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, reader is older than mizu, autopsy, slight violence, reader thinks mizu is a man (pronouns used will be mostly he/him), implied afab reader

note: I am more than willing to take this down if the artist wants me to, especially if they are not comfy with reader inserts. I respect your decision, which ever it may be. I will still love your art regardless <3

Nothing but the soft sound of metal being placed on metal and the vent fans spinning resonated among the cold tiled walls. An occasional cracking sound from a rib being opened or the soft, slimy 'thud' sounds of organs being placed aside could be heard. The air smelled like decay, formalin, or xylene depending on which area you stood. An eerie atmosphere lingered with an unsettling feeling, enough to be suffocating. Even the lights flickered, making the grayish tiles appear colder. Scalpels, forceps, and saws lined up neatly on the counter, shiny and sterilized as opposed to mess of organs and body fluids you had on your tray.

This place looked gloomy, empty, lonely.

It doesn't matter. That was how a morgue was supposed to be.

You sighed as you removed your dirty gloves, the latex producing a loud crispy snap. It was bloody and probably covered with something else like bile or whatever was left of the decedent's last meal. Stains weren't allowed on your reports anymore. Don't know why. It wasn't like what you were writing was legal anyway. The head's son must have touched a shit stain while handing it to his daddy.

Removing your mask, you placed a cigarette between your red-painted lips before lighting it. The smell of burning tobacco filling up the room as you rolled the cigarette to get an even burn. Your hand picked up the pen and started writing out the autopsy report for the recent corpse, taking hits from your cigarette in between. You hated writing autopsy reports. It was a waste of time considering the lawlessness of this goddamn place.

No one cared if you died. They'd step over and desecrate your corpse.

Name: unknown Age: est. between 30-40 years old Length: 175cm Weight: 73.3kg General appearance: fair skin color, appears of good nutritional status Other findings: Livor: appearance of postmortem lividity most prominent on left side of the frontal region of the head, left hypochondriac region, and the epigastric region; decedent exhibiting tache noir Rigor: whole body exhibiting rigor mortis, rigor still easily resisted. -blood vessel dilation found on upper and lower mucosa of the eyelids -nails and fingertips exhibit cyanosis -irregular-shaped bruising found on the left occipital region measuring 6cm x 3cm -laceration measuring 3cm x 0..2cm located on the right infraorbital region -linear fracture on right parietal bone -depressed fracture on left occipital bone, depression measuring 4.7cm x 2.6cm -several linear abrasions located on the upper palate (palatine raphe) measuring between 1-3cm x 0.2cm -crush laceration resulting in rupture located on the right lobe of the liver -traumatic fracture of left ribs (7-10) and xiphoid process resulting in partial decimation of xiphoid process

'Poor man,' you thought as you drew out the location of the fractures and lacerations on the poorly printed out piece of paper.

No, you weren't taking pity on him. He was a fool that probably had mouths to feed and was tricked by the enemy into thinking that he could handle the life-threatening, high-risk-high-reward job of being a spy for the enemy organization. They must've gotten him so drunk on fantasies of amassing a fortune, getting high on drugs he can't even pronounce, and women hotter than his wife. This fucking idiot probably thought sneaking in and poisoning your subordinates was an easy job.

Now his wife would have to live wondering where her husband went off to.

With a few more words and one click of your pen, you finally finished writing the report. You'd have to culture and assay the samples from his body later for any substance or biological weapons that he might have left. Your back rested on the cushion of your seat, a hand over your eyes as you closed them. "Fuck.. finally," you groaned out before sitting back up again to grab another cigarette and lighting it up, allowing the sound of the vents to take over the room.

...

It was quiet here.

No one ever went to your morgue...laboratory..whatever. Dead bodies lined this place up, a new face everyday. If you're lucky, maybe a new one will roll in every hour. A gut-retching, unnerving feeling never left this place. A feeling that someone or something was always watching you would linger; and somehow, to you, it was the most peaceful feeling. Like a tiny cove hidden amongst the mess where all you had to do was open people up like a treasure box, get a bunch of samples to perform tests on, then sew them shut.

It was your haven. Your little territory. No one wanted to go here.

...

...

...

"Impressive. I take it you're done?"

Well except for this little shit.

It was that blue eyed demon that had somehow made a name for himself allover the scene. An assassin who steps into the scene wielding only a blue katana. The only person who was crazy enough to bring a knife to a gun fight. His eyes striking terror to who anyone who saw them. Even your allies had chills running down their spines whenever they saw him.

Rumors quickly spread about how he took down a whole unit on his own. Stepping straight into enemy territory alone only with pure seething rage behind his sharp eyes, coming out covered in the blood of his own enemies. They say he only joined to kill the don of four particular groups. His presence screamed anger and bloodlust.

An onryo.

That's what they called him.

Despite only having graduated from training, he currently possesses the highest body count in the whole organization—and we're not talking about sex.

And luckily or unluckily, you had the privilege of instructing him when he was still a trainee. You had no intention of teaching anyone, your plate was full as it was. But one faithful day, he appeared in front of your morgue. His presence undetectable until he was right in front of you, sending chills down your spine.

Your eyes met blue, staring at it with a deadeye stare, not even bothering to hide the irritation you held. The blood in your veins was running cold, the tips of your fingers tingling from how nervous you had become. You accidentally left your revolver in your laboratory which was now blocked by this stranger.

'How the hell?' you asked yourself in thought, eyes breaking contact to glance around the hallway.

It was a simple hallway with only two doors on either side, one leading to your office and the other back to the lobby. There were no windows, no cubbies, no anything. Absolutely nowhere to hide. And yet somehow, you couldn't even detect his presence.

Sound always echoed around the gray tiles, capturing any sound no matter how quiet. Even the soft pitter-patter of water dripping from the ceiling echoed like a drum within this hall. However, no sound nor sign of footsteps could be heard. He was like the wind, suddenly appearing before you.

Your eyes went back to him, stare turning into a glare. Every part of your body was silently screaming at you to run, telling you that this person was dangerous. That one wrong move would kill you. "What the hell do you want?" you seethed out, eyes watching for any sign of aggression. Even with your vigilance, you couldn't win this without a gun.

No.

Even with a gun, something in your gut was telling you that you wouldn't win.

His cold emotionless eyes continued to watch over you before his hands reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture taken using a polaroid camera. It was a picture of a recent autopsy you performed, corpse laying on the cold metal table, all stitched up. "How did you obtain this..?"

The decedent was an instructor known for being cruel to trainees. Everyone knew of his behavior but he was too influential within the organization to get rid off. Until one day, his body was rolled into your laboratory, multiple lacerations over the body, a few missing teeth, signs of struggle evident. No one knew who killed him. Too many people held a grudge with him to be traceable. It didn't matter, it wasn't your job to find out anyway.

"This..cut," he started, voice husky as his finger pointed to the picture, clearly referring to the cut you had made on the corpse. "Its clean. Exquisite. Clearly made by someone skilled." He looked up at you, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. "Its you."

A clear look of confusion painted over your face. This boy sneaked up on you because of a cut?

You took a look at the picture again and rolled your eyes. "A y-shaped cut. Every examiner and coroner in this world knows how to do one. So what?" you groaned. The blue eyed man seems intrigued by your answer, eyes glancing around in thought. As you moved over to the side to head towards your laboratory, the man stepped back and blocked your way again, making you let out an exasperated sigh.

"Teach me," he said, handing you the picture. "Or at least show me how you made that cut."

Another exasperated sigh escaped your lips as you glared at him, hands shoving the picture back to him. "No. Get out," you scowled. No matter how oddly unnerving this man's presence was, there was no way you'd waste your time taking in a trainee. Your hands shoved him away from the door before going to the handle.

Before you could twist the doorknob, his hand immediately gripped your wrist. "I'm not leaving until you agree," he said, pulling your wrist to keep yours hands off of the knob. The look in his eyes told you that he was serious. God, this man was stubborn.

Your eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance as you pulled your wrist away from his grip, crossing your arms. "Then make it worth my time. What do I get for teaching you?" you asked, raising a brow at him inquisitively.

His gaze shifted around the hall in thought before landing on you. "I'll tell you who killed this man," he replied, showing you the picture yet again. Your eyes softened for a moment before glaring at him again. "As if I care. My job is to provide evidence, not convict someone."

No, maybe you did care...or was it because you already knew who.

The man let out an audible huff before looking around again. Now his vision was focused on you. Looking over your features, observing every detail of your clothes and body. Anything to convince you, to force you. "You're missing a gun, aren't you?"

Your eyes widened slightly, the unsettling feeling returning to your throat. "And why would I tell you?" you said cautiously. He chuckled darkly before looking over you once more. "A model 57, am I right?" he asked, slowly approaching you with soundless footsteps.

As he approached you, you took a cautious step back, following his steps. Something was telling you that he was not so keen on negotiating anymore. Soon enough, your back collided with the wall, effectively trapping you between the tiles and his body. There was no use struggling. Both were equally immovable.

Rough calloused hands lifted your chin up, forcing you to stare at his face. His thumb running across your lips, smudging the red lipstick against your chin, staring at it before his gaze went back to your eyes.

He was reading you, observing the fear as it ran through your body. Once again, he took out the polaroid picture and showed it to you, now with a sense of satisfaction as he felt your breath. "You're not an idiot. You probably know who killed him," he said in a low tone. The look in his eyes hungry as if he was a predator hunting and you were the prey.

You gulped and turned your head away the best you could with his hand still holding your chin. Your actions neither confirming nor denying his statement. Numerous large lacerations, clearly made by a sharp object. The cuts were clean too. It wasn't hard to figure it out. At least not to you.

He chuckled at your stubbornness, knowing full well that he had trapped you. "Now," he proceeded, pressing your body further against his as he loomed over you. "Teach me." His hand slowly slid the picture into the breast pocket of your lab coat, fingers tracing the stitches carefully and tenderly. The threat sent chills down your spine. Your body was telling you to run, to scream at least. You were trapped between a wall and a killer.

"Fucking shit...Fine!" Your eyebrows scrunching together at the feeling of being defenseless. The threat of losing your life wasn't what bothered you the most. It was the fact that this cocky trainee waltzed into your spaces, wasting your time and disturbing your peace; and yet, you felt utterly helpless under him.

It was unnerving. It pissed you off.

Finally, he lets you go, face emotionless but his blue eyes told you that he was more than satisfied. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you opened the door to your morgue before craning your head to glare at him. "Oh and never touch me again."

But this bastard never got lost. In fact, he came back every single day. At first he had the decency to wait for you to get back whenever you went out to submit your reports, standing in front of the door like a good little boy. Now he just waltzes in like he owned the place.

Sometimes he'd just sit around and watch, the blue in his eyes shining particularly whenever you cut up a corpse that died from something peculiar. Sometimes he'd dirty up the place, walking in after a mission, covered in blood and smearing it allover the chairs and tables. Most of the time, he'd walk in just to annoy the shit out of you, moving around the reagents and inspecting them. Like what he was doing right now.

"Didn't I just replace the lock?" you asked, raising an eyebrow and taking a long drag out of your cigarette. His hand reached into his pocket before presenting to you a bent up hairpin. This little shit picked the lock again. "You did," he affirmed, voice sounding a bit smug.

His footsteps echoed around the room as he approached you, sitting down right next to you on the smooth varnished wood of your desk. "You should consider having cameras in this place," he commented, tilting his head to look around as if he hadn't for the past years.

You rolled your eyes at his suggestion, exhaling the smoke through your nostrils in a deep huff. "Oh please, as if you won't find a way to break them and sneak in. You'd carve a hole on the ceiling if you had to."

He hummed in agreement, eyes closing while he nodded. For a moment, silence once again enveloped the place. His eyes looked over to the cigarette you were holding, blue orbs eyeing the red lipstick on the filter, gaze lingering on it in particular. "Did you like the corpse I gave you?" he asked, taking the autopsy report from your desk and reading it.

"You could've gone easier on the man," you replied, tapping your cigarette on the ash tray and snatching the report back from him. "Really. Blunt force trauma? What did you use? The back of a gun?" you chuckled, scanning over the report as well. "Just when they've handed us a new batch of rifles, you just had to use it like a machete."

The shrug he gave you was more than enough to affirm your suspicions. Raising an eyebrow at him, you put your half-finished cigarette out on the ash tray before walking over to the corpse, putting on a new pair of gloves, and zipping up the body bag. "A ruptured liver too," you sighed, bringing the tissue samples you took to another table and placing them in formalin.

"He deserves it," he replied nonchalantly, taking the lighter from your desk and standing up, striding over to where you were. Snaking his arms around your hips, he peered over your shoulder. Your body went rigid as you tensed up from the contact. Suddenly, the feeling of something firm being pressed against his shoulder made him step back a bit. His eyes trailed down to see the barrel of a revolver pointed at his shoulder.

Your eyes narrowed at him, warning him to back off. A clicking sound could be heard as you turned to face him, jaw clenched. "Touch me again and I will shoot," you warned, vexed expression evident. His gaze switched over to your gun then to his shoulder before he took another step towards you. It seems that your threat was ineffective towards him.

"Go ahead," he replied, pressing the barrel of the revolver against his shoulder before placing his hands on both your sides, resting it on the cool metal. "At least aim at a vital organ. A hit on the shoulder is easy to fix." Sharp blue eyes staring at your lips once again. The red on your lips fascinating him. It was like he was hypnotized.

You rolled your eyes at him, eyebrows knitting together as you realized that your threat was not working at all. "Oh and maybe I should remind you that I'm the only doctor here," you snarled sarcastically. He laughed softly, tilting his head down to look at you. "Aren't you a pathologist?"

"Exactly. So back off unless you want to be the next thing I cut open," you threatened but it was no use. The man in front of you stayed unmoving with his eyes fixated on your lips.

The more he stared, the more he pressed his body against you. Yet somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to pull the trigger. Instead, you raised a knee up before swinging it towards his crotch. However, upon impact, your eyes widened in realization. You stared at him dumbfounded, lips parting as you finally spoke...

"You're a woman."

At your statement, her gaze hardened, jaw clenching in sudden aggravation. Suddenly, her hands grasped your wrist, pinning you down on the table as she loomed over you. Your revolver now on the floor with loud clack, a heavy foot over it. Her eyebrows scrunching together in an irked expression. "Speak of this to anyone. I'll kill you," she threatened, face moving closer towards yours.

You couldn't believe it. All this time, the blue eyed demon was a woman all along. He who brought fear into his enemies, leaving them either dead or permanently incapacitated, was not a he. The little shit bothering you and messing around with the stuff in your laboratory was a woman.

The lack of reply irked her even more, her glare now directed towards your lips. Fuck. Maybe if she wasn't so distracted by your lipstick, she would have seen this coming. The longer she stared, the more her body grew hot either from infuriation or from something else.

Suddenly, her hand entangled itself within the locks of hair at the back of your head, pulling on it and smashing her lips against yours. Your lips opened slightly from surprise and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. Her tongue explored the cavern of your mouth, not caring if you returned the kiss or not.

Your body trembled under hers, breathing becoming shakier as the kiss continued. A small groan escaped your lips at the feeling of her hand pulling on your hair tighter. Eventually, you allowed your tongue to move with her's, dancing together with your groans and soft mewls as the melody.

A thin string of saliva connecting your lips together upon pulling away. Your red lipstick smudged over your cheek and allover her lips. You could see her chest rising and falling as she panted through her nose.

"Fine...I won't," you breathed out, looking away to hide the warmth crawling up to your cheeks. The heat of the atmosphere taking all the snarky remarks out of your mouth. Her gaze softened before she leaned down, placing a trail of kisses from your lips down to your collarbone. She lifted her head up once again and let your wrists go, helping you up.

Before you could speak, she slipped her hand into your breast pocket and took out the carton of cigarettes, taking one out and placing it between your lipstick-smudged lips. Reaching into her pocket, she took the lighter she picked up from your desk out and flipped it open, lighting the cigarette for you.

Her blue eyes scanned over your figure before chuckling, all the anger she had earlier completely gone. "I know you won't" she whispered with a sense of sincerity. "I'll leave."

You watched as she headed towards the door, footsteps quiet and quick. Upon reaching the door way, she turned towards you with a slight smirk.

"Mizu," she said suddenly.

"H-Huh?"

"That's my name, so don't forget." She turned back around and left. The sound of the door closing echoing around the morgue. Your eyes stared at the door, stupefied from the turn of events. Your fingers slowly touched your lips, tracing where she had placed hers.

There was no way you'd forget it.

She'd come back every day to remind you of it.

[paradlselost]

i am so glad im finding another person who writes for far cry :)) if possible, can we see a jacob seed x gn!deputy who replaces pratt as his prisoner? it ends with jacob being their one and only, (even if its dubcon)

WIND — UP TOY

jacob seed x gn!deputy

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ ty for being my first submission ! jacob and his region lowkey scare the shit out of me lmao 🙏 kinda a little fucked up but I mean it’s jacob seed . also sorry this took so long ); smut below the cut

no use of y/n , reader is referred to as ‘ deputy ’ . gender specific nicknames are replaced by ‘ pup ’ . not beta - read

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ blasphemy , deputy is treated like a dog , implied forced cannibalism , implied death of a minor character , brainwashing , jacobs his own warning isn’t he ? smut : dub - con , degrading , oral ( m receiving ) , soft - ish sex , penetration , dacryphillia , one - sided orgasm .

It always crept up on him when he least expected it; when things began to have a sense of normalcy. His days a haze and his nights clouded with gunfire and explosions, dreams marred with blood and the guts of former comrades and men who died far too young. For what?

What is the American dream when the world is going to end anyways? What are the soldiers overseas fighting for when the rivers will soon flow with blood and the ground tarred with ash?

His hand runs over his face; rubbing tired eyes. Demons of his past prey on him while he sleeps, turning him weak. Two to three hours is good enough for him, leaves him rested enough for his eyes to focus on the maps in front of him.

Being the leader of the army of Eden’s Gate wasn’t an easy job, though he held it with pride - a cardinal sin - but Joseph would forgive him as long as the prophecies his little brother had bouncing around his head came true. Jacob didn’t know if he believed in anything, really, it was hard to imagine God was with the soldiers that clutched cross pendants behind HESCO barriers.

But where he might’ve drifted from the true meaning of the cause further and further, where he might’ve argued the existence of a higher power with Joseph; one thing grounded him to his purpose and place in the cult. The Deputy.

Joseph’s ramblings were insane to the layman and gospel to the believer - but it seemed right now they were damn prophetic. Everything he said the Deputy would do; they did, and left bodies in their wake. Sometimes, he would watch whatever the cameras picked up of them on his screens, how they traversed the Whitetails with an almost practiced knowledge.

Sometimes, he felt like the eighteen year old new enlistee again when he watched them. The blood, the gunfire. Jacob Seed was a tough man, righteous and brave, but he would look down at them in their cage and feel the fire on his skin from the ranch he burned all those years ago.

He hated the feeling, wanting to drive his pocket knife into his chest and carve out every semblance of memory he had. But then his music box would rewind, and he would hear the sweet sound of the Platters crooning through the wood and metal and maybe, just maybe, things would be okay for him.

So he watched the way the Deputy writhe behind those thick steel bars against the cold soil, not afforded the luxuries even the most depraved prisoners received. Weak and idiotic for attempting to save their friend; but a mind that could be molded with the right tune.

Staci Pratt was a good pet; Pavlovian in nature and willing to do anything for the oldest Seed brother, so maybe that’s why Jacob began to grow bored of the man. Maybe that’s why he entertained the cracks beginning to show in the conditioning, how Pratt’s eyes softened at the sight of their co-worker being taunted by the Herald and yet knowing there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

An escape plan, of course he knew about it, he had eyes and ears everywhere and could always tell when one of his dogs stepped out of line. A perfectly timed truck, the siren going off to alert that a prisoner had escaped, catching Pratt as he allowed the Deputy to leave without him. It was almost sweet, but moreover vomit-inducing, like a lamb.

Sheep are creatures controlled by their own nature, that’s why dogs have to herd them back into formation - like a general in charge of new recruits. Intolerables are discharged, lambs are taken to the slaughterhouse. Nature, the circle of life, the bad meat is thrown out for the poor and needy to pick through.

“Eat. You wouldn’t want to fall sick, would you?”

A tin was placed in front of the Deputy, they had been through this before. Starved for however many days Jacob deemed necessary - usually ten - before they are given nothing but raw meat to eat. Never did they think they would yearn for the peanuts and beer served at the Spread Eagle, but there was no position to argue about what they were being given here.

Some fell over the side as greedy hands shoveled clump after clump into their mouth, covering it in a pitiful yet successful attempt to keep it down. Never did they ask what kind of meat it was, choosing to instead assume it was from one of the many cow farms in the valley.

“You’re hungry, aren’t ya, pup? You’re lucky, that’s a nice cut of meat.” A grin played on his face as he leaned against the metal bars, fingers grazing over his music box. There wouldn’t be any culling today, no, he had a much better idea in mind.

“Where’s Pratt?”

“Not even a thank you for my generosity, aren’t you fierce?”

“Where is he?”

“Peaches’s little act of rebellion earned him a punishment, I mean; that’s only fair. In a war like this you can’t go sympathizing with the devil, no matter how well you knew them before.”

It’s not an answer, but there’s an unspoken understanding that that is the closest thing the Deputy will get to knowing. A huff falling from their lips, ever the ungrateful dog; but their bowl is licked clean and what more can Jacob ask for?

A soft tsk fell from his lips, cold and condescending because how could he be anything but? Did the thing below him deserve care and kindness? Maybe at some point when they were strong, when their mind was still their own, but now they were nothing but a lamb being fattened for the slaughter.

His fingers grasped their chin, forcing eye contact and no doubt leaving marks that would form bruises. How much had they been through? Chest slashed with the markings from Jacobs little brother and mind already foggy from the bliss that grew in the Henbane; but there was a certain pride he took in being the one to break them.

How much time had passed? Had anyone come looking for them? Jacob had often taunted them, used the fact that they were immobile against the conditioning he had given them to contact anyone. The rebellion would fall without their snake, maybe it already had, how would the Deputy know?

It wasn’t their place to think anymore, to simply let the oldest Herald put a leash around their neck and sit beside like a good dog. Their mind wasn’t their own, now it belonged to him and they had no room to complain.

“Look at’chu, open your mouth.” But he didn’t wait for them to comply, instead he bullied his fingers against their tongue, exploring over their gums and teeth. They could bite him, certainly, but they didn’t - wouldn’t.

Who was Jacob Seed but their owner? He had saved them from themselves, from the blood and the gore and the fire that threatened to burn the world to nothing but ashes. Joseph had greeted them in their new form, John had shown up to pout, but their eyes only ever stayed on the eldest.

“Such a good pup, ‘ did a wonderful job training you, huh?” He asked as if they could answer, as if they weren’t preoccupied by the fingers that traced their mouth like he was mapping them out.

A hum passed from his lips as he removed his fingers, instead moving to undo the buckle on his belt. Even in this state, the Deputy wasn’t stupid and could very clearly tell what was coming next. So, to hopefully avoid any wrath from him, moved to help undo his pants.

Leaning back in his chair and observing as they removed his pants, fingers trailing over the growing bulge in his boxers. Jacob was a stoic man, never did the Deputy know if they were really doing good, but he didn’t scold them so there was no stopping.

Hands smoothed out the black fabric a bit nervously, playing with the hem for a moment before a soft grunt from the Herald alerted them. Knowingly, their fingers hooked underneath the waistband and pulled it away from his freckled skin, letting it pool at his ankles along with his pants.

Wrapping around the base of his still hardening cock, their eyes fluttered up to meet his gray ones. A silent beg, a plea that they were doing alright and there would be no punishment later. All they got in return was a small nod; though there was no love or care behind it. More like a drill sergeant instructing a particularly moldable soldier.

Gentle, unsure licks placed against his tip, hand working against the base; fingers brushing against veins that worked overtime to pump blood to his dick. Jacob Seed was not one for taking his sweet time, his fingers tangled in their hair as he pushed their head down on his aching cock.

A soft gag fell from their lips, hands moving from him to settle on his toned thighs. A heavy breath leaving their nose as they tried their hardest to relax, nuzzling against his untamed ginger hair. He relished in the warmth of their throat, the tightness eliciting a groan as he pushed his hips up.

Their gagging was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, the soft whimpers and tears that emitted from the Deputy as they tried their hardest to just breathe through their nose. He loved the power he held over them, how those pretty tears fell for him.

“Cmon pup, look up at me.”

Fighting between lifting their head to meet his gaze and keeping their mouth wrapped around his cock, the Deputy managed to tilt their head up enough to see him. His smirk widened, cock throbbing against their throat as he watched the tears continue to fall from them.

Another few thrusts to the back of their throat before he groaned, pulling their head off his dick with a small ‘pop’. A trail of saliva still connected their lips, pre-cum mixed in with it. He couldn’t help the laugh that emitted from him at the sight of their swollen lips and heavy breathing.

“Poor thing. Don’t cry, I take care of you, don’t I?”

The Deputy couldn’t do anything but nod, and maybe it was a bit true. Jacob did care for them in his own sick and twisted way. In the back of their mind they wondered if this was how he treated Pratt behind close doors; more like a prized trophy than a lover.

His hands grabbed at their hips, pulling them onto his lap. The small barrier of whatever clothes they had been wearing on their lower half before was quickly removed, giving him access to everything he wanted.

Burying their face into the crook of his neck and wrapping arms around the back of him, the Herald lifted their hips once more to guide himself inside their needy hole before pushing them down onto him. Stretching, pain emanating from the sudden intrusion, he could feel the tears that fell from them and landed against his skin.

He cooed, a grin still wide on his face. His hands still settled on their hips, guiding them up and down on his cock. Gentle movements at first that quickly devolved to an almost feral extent. His pre-cum marred the inside of their hole, creating wet and sticky sounds everytime he fucked in and out of them.

It felt like a dam was about to break by the time Jacob decided he was finished. Loud sobs wracked their body as they cuddled closer to him, so close yet so far. His hips continued to move for a moment; stuttering and shifting a bit before he released inside of them, filling them with his cum.

The Deputy finally leaned back after a moment, tears still flowing from their now red eyes, sniffling - but they still attempted to move their hips over him. To get any kind of release as the Herald caught his breath. Needily grinding against his lap, hands clutching his shirt in a pitiful attempt that only made him laugh more.

“Oh, look at’chu. Pup needs to get off too, huh? Don’t worry, I told you I’ll take care of you.”

[rederiswrites]

What resources would you recommend for someone new to vegetable gardening? I'm in Zone 6 surrounded by Zone 5, and my initial web searching is overwhelming. I have a north-facing porch and I'm sure my dad will let me plant in his yard, though I might be fighting with the dahlia and lily bulbs that are already there.

Also, do you have any arguments I can make to my apt complex about why we should have a community garden?

Oh man this is always such a hard question, tbh, because there's so MUCH? You know? And I've been reading about this and studying it for like...since I was a teenager? But let's see.

First, the dahlias and lilies shouldn't be too aggressive, so there's that. And a north-facing porch won't give you much by way of tomatoes and peppers in your zone, but you can get loads of greens and herbs! Might be fun to maximize space with one of those super cool planting towers I've never had any excuse to get!

Over on Youtube Kevin Espiritu of Epic Gardening is really great. He's both very approachable and very rigorous about evidence based practice. Also fun and cute, so there's that. There are a lot of other gardening channels that come highly recommended but which I don't have any direct experience with. Hopefully someone else will jump in with more recs!

I just went and looked at my gardening bookshelf, and I'll be totally real with you, I remember reading most of them, and some of them made an impression on me, but none of them stand out as The Beginner Book. Like, Eliot Coleman's books are great for learning about season extension--which in your climate my well be something you want to learn about early on--but they're not specifically for beginners. Carol Deppe's The Resilient Gardener is a great book I should probably re-read, but it's specifically about gardening under adverse circumstances. Which, now that I say it, is also immediately relevant to a lot of people. Sigh. Anyway.

Oh I guess I am almost literally contractually obligated to prop for Master Gardeners and the Extension Service, which put out excellent, science-based regional information, such as when to start various plants in your area and how to address noxious weeds you're likely to encounter.

But to be honest I feel like I'm shit at answering this question!! So I am begging my many other gardening mutuals and followers to add their favorite resources, please!

[mleprae]

LEPROSY 101

that I spent almost a week writing for my seminar, I simplified as much as I could 😭 the original text is WAYYY too long for a 20 mins presentation, so this is the ADHD version

WHY? Maybe you want to chuck leprosy facts at people. I dunno

WHAT IS IT? NOT a skin disease and NOT a neurological one either, it is considered a 'granulomatous' disease. A granuloma is when a bunch of immune cells form a barrier around a foreign object that they cannot destroy! If you ever had a piercing or had a wood barb and you got a little red bump around the area, congrats, you had a granuloma! There are many different types of granulomas for different situations. It also forms plaques (itchy, red lesions that 'flake off') and macules (small patches of skin that lost it melanin), there are many types of these lesions! But the ones that are unique to leprosy are the ones called 'Saucer right way up' and 'Swiss cheese lesion'

WHERE DID IT COME FROM? So many theories so many ideas, the boring one? Africa, like many diseases have. The popular one? Asia and middle east, leprosy is a ""tropical"" disease, there are a few theories to explain how a "tropical" disease managed to get to Europe in the first place, the most favored one is that it got spread by crusaders after the first crusade, given that leprosy was estabilished around that trail.

I'm not a historian, so I only regurgitate what I know, and what I DO know is that before that, a bacteria went through speciation; which is when an species divides into 2 different species. One, went to become the deadliest, infectious, and most aggressive disease known to man and the other one was leprosy.

Tuberculosis and leprosy are each other closest relatives, they share a lot of genetic information together and they sometimes co-infect the same host, they are very close! How cute.

WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE? Mycobacteria have around 100 known members, they are, VERY good at surviving, except for leprosy who's the 'odd one out'. Leprosy has a VERY interesting strategy; it avoids the warmest places of the body and chooses the coldest regions... this is why I put "tropical" in quotations, it doesn't like warmth at all!

It will always, whenever possible, choose to colonize the coldest body parts; The skin, the eyes, nose and ears, the nerves, the testicles and the lung mucosa. (That's the wet and slimy part of your lungs!) This is important to note, other members of the Mycobacteria do just fine in warmer places, it's just leprosy that does this and reason is, to put it a bit vulgarly, is that this little Bacteria is, a pussy and a coward. The colder a tissue is, the less blood it receives, the less blood it receives, the smaller the traffic of immune cells! Your blood is a highway of patrolling soldiers, and leprosy became REALLY good at avoiding these highways, because it knows that warmth attracts them. The better example is the testicles and the nervous system, those two guys are what we call 'Immunoprivileged', some organs are so complex that they cannot regenerate, any damage to them is permanent! This means that the immune system has to act very carefully when threading around these parts, and even then, only very specific cells can act there. Leprosy knows this, and it targets the nerves and the testes because it knows that the immune system can do jack shit to it while it's there.

The warmth, again, is what deters it from going deeper into the body, you may have heard that leprosy causes loss of sensation, which is true, we call it 'Glove and stocking neuropathy' because it only affects the arms, and down the knees. Any other part is too warm for leprosy to be comfortable in.

HOW DOES IT STARTS? We don't know exactly the reason why some people can catch leprosy and some do not, it's due to genetics, of course, but we don't know exactly. Some ethnicities are prone to it while others are more resistant, we know it's very infectious but we aren't 100% sure on how it spreads from person to person. (Most seem to agree it's airborne) Leprosy is usually neural in it's inception, meaning that the first symptoms are probably going to be related to the nerves, HOWEVER, it has been noted that lepromatous leprosy, the deadliest type, starts with constant nosebleeds and trouble breathing as well as leg swelling.

And I hear you say, yes, leprosy has types! Currently, we know 8 different types of leprosy but every now and then a new weird case pops up, and researchers argue if it's a new type or not. You don't need to memorize them, only know that lepromatous leprosy is the one you are probably familiar with.

When the population of the bacteria grows, it starts moving to other parts, the skin and eyes and what not. Sometimes it gets carried into internal organs, mostly by accident, though, but it is able to stabilish itself there since it has grown in size.

HOW THE IMMUNE SYSTEM REACTS? Complicated question, in Tuberculoid leprosy you have a very aggressive response from our little microscopic crusaders, this is where 'spotaneous recovery' can happen, this doesn't mean that leprosy is gone, just that it goes dormant after being beaten by giant angry amebas that make up our immune system.

The bacteria can only survive inside the cells of our body, so in TB leprosy, the cells that are infected with the bacteria are instructed to make their bodies more acidic, destroying any invaders they might have, they also sound the alarm so other immune cells come rushing to where leprosy was spotted and help them destroy it

In lepromatous leprosy, for reasons we don't quite understand, the immune reaction isn't led by the cells at all...? In this case, the cells also sound the alarm, but it's not one to call others to arms, no, it's the one that basically tells "RUN AWAY AND STOP FIGHTING." for unknown reasons, leprosy can make the immune system incredibly incompetent at it's job? Making the infection SO much worse in the long run.

Usually, bacteria "smell" bad, very bad. And that smell is what make immune cells so aggressive, basically sending them into a frenzy the stronger the smell is. But leprosy "smell" can make some cells very unresponsive and docile, which is something I simply never even considered possible. Ever.

WHY DO WE STILL KNOW SO LITTLE? We can't study leprosy in the laboratory... yet, it's way too dependent on us as hosts so it cannot survive outside a body for too long. This means that getting samples, and keeping the bacteria alive is too difficult. One thing that has plagued many researchers (and me, honestly.) is the diffusive lepromatous leprosy type, for reasons we don't understand, leprosy decides to dig into warmer parts of the body, or that it can REPROGRAM CELLS OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, which is an INSANE thing to do?!? I know I say it alot but I can't wrap my head around it, it could be used to cure Alzheimer and Parkinson's if we ever figure out how it does it !! But we just know so little, there's just not enough funding to go around.. alas.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi, I really love your posts, they are so well-structured and researched and I agree with a lot of your takes. I was wondering firstly if you had any headcanons about people’s accents outside of standard RP english (which there was an over-representation of in the movies)? i found a really good post on this by @lotstradamus. I also wondered if there are any characters you headcanon as PoC that are not explicitly stated like Blaise, Angelina, Kingsley, Dean, the Patil twins and Cho? Also, what are your favourite fic recs for HP (Tomarry, Gen or Harry/Others)? I am trying to expand my fic list. Thanks :)

Hi, 👋

Thank you so much!

Okay, so I found @lotstradamus's post you mentioned here and she explains UK and Ireland accents way better than I, a non-brit whose only time standing on British soil was in the London airport for a connection flight, ever could. Additionally, I'm shit at recognizing accents from hearing even when these are accents I know well. That being said, I have been thinking a lot about where in the UK & Ireland characters came from so I will use that (& the power of Google) to infer about the accents, since they tend to be regional.

I would love to hear about my attempt from any actual Brits who can help me with this. (Also, I'm not going to be mentioning the movie accents, as yes, there definitely aren't enough accents there, but also, I don't really know how to tell the difference between many British accents from hearing alone, so...) I also tried to add video/recording examples for how the accents would sound like for all the non-brits like me for whom the accent name would say literally nothing. Without further ado:

HP characters accents

Let's start with the characters we know for sure where they are from:

We know Harry is from Surry, so his accent should be southern but from an upper-middle-class area near London, so he should be close-ish to RP. (Tom Felton was born in 1980 in Surrey, so he's probably close to Harry's accent)

Sirius grew up in Grimmauld Place in London so as rebellious as he wants to be he still sounds like a posh-as-hell Londoner. (Example)

The Weasleys, Luna Lovegood, and Cedric Diggory all grew up in Ottery St Catchpole which is in Devon, so they all have a West Country accent.

(the children at least, the parents might have different accents. Like, Molly I think sounds a bit posher since the Prewetts seem at least upper-middle-class).

Albus Dumbledore was born in Mould-on-the-Wold before his family moved to Godric's Hallow after his father's arrest. As Mould-on-the-Wold might be based on Stow-on-the-Wold, I'd take it that it's located around the same area in Gloucestershire. As such his accent would probably be a West country accent for the most part.

Abeforth's accent is similarly West Country, except add some random bits of highland slang he might've picked up from all his years at Hogsmeade and without any smoothening over.

Google has informed me Hagrid's dialect written in the books is a West Country dialect, which is the same as the Weasleys, Diggorys, Lovegoods, and Dumbledores (there are a lot of wizards in West Country)

(West Country Example 1, West Country Example 2, West Country Example 3) - think movie Hagrid for all of them.

James Potter and the entire Potter family (and the Abbotts as well, actually, so Hannah too) are from Godric's Hallow which is somewhere in the West Country, but, James is also from a rich family, so he likely sounds closer to RP than the Weasleys. So his accent should be a general southern posh that isn't quite perfect RP but closer to it than to West Country accent. (Example)

Tom Riddle is one I have a specific headcanon about. Like, he grew up in an underfunded orphanage that was most likely in East End London — young Tommy had a Cockney accent and he spent his first month at Hogwarts learning to mimic all the posh purebloods around him. So Tom probably sounds like the perfect dictionary version of RP as he is actively hiding his accent. (Cockney example, another one, RP example)

Snape, probably does something similar. He grew up in slums in Cokeworth which is somewhere in the Midlands, so I think he is actively hiding his accent too so he could fit in with his posh pureblood peers in Slytherin better.

Lily probably has a similar accent to Snape, just, probably like a softer version of it, idk, that's what I'm thinking.

Now the midlands is an area that encompasses a lot of different accents, so I wanted to narrow it down a bit more. I found this post by @potions-and-potters that placed Cokeworth in the black country, and it sounds right considering the industrial vibe of the town and the descriptions we get. So, Lily and Snape had variations of the black country accent. The Snape we meet in the book speaks the same dictionary RP as Voldemort, probably (Example 1, Example 2 of Lily's and Snape's accents)

Draco and the Malfoy family are from Wiltshire which is also in the West Country, but because you know the Malfoys sound posh, it would be closer to RP (not too different from James' accent probably), but with a bit of a drawl since in the books they are described often as "drawling".

McGonagall is the most Scottish character there is so she has to have a Scottish accent. On Pottermore it's written she grew up in the Highlands of Scotland:

She grew up in the Highlands of Scotland

(from Pottermore)

So she has a Highlands accent (Example 1, Example 2). I find this sort of Scottish accent fits McGonagall quite well since it's very clear and deliberate.

Seamus Finnigan has to be Irish, as he is mentioned to be a fan of the Quidditch Team Kenmare Kestrels, he likely is from the area, which is around south Ireland. (Example)

Stan Shunpike is written as speaking in a Cockney dialect according to Google.

Dean Thomas is a fan of the West Ham United Football Club which is located in London, so Dean is likely from London and has a London accent. (Went for a South London accent).

We know Justing Flich-Fletchy had his name down for Eton, as @lotstradamus mentioned, so he's also a super posh RP-ish speaker. (More examples)

Tonks uses "wotcher" a lot which is common in North London dialects, so I'm going to go with a North London accent for her. (Example)

Now, for characters I don't know where they are from it's much harder to guess accents because I'm not British and can't get accent "vibes", unfortunately, so I'm only going based on locations and gut feelings.

I can say Hermione always sounds very RP and kinda posh in my head, I imagine books Hermione sounding pretty much like Emma Watson. As we know she comes from a well-to-do middle-class family, it even makes some sense. (Example)

(I also think it's funny to have Harry and Hermione both sounding all RP and Ron speaking more similar to movie Hagrid)

I kinda want to give Remus an accent that isn't RP, just because I feel like it and there are so many posh speakers on this list already and his mom is said to be Welsh:

On an investigative trip into a dense Welsh forest in which a particularly vicious Boggart was supposed to be lurking, Lyall ran across his future wife. Hope Howell, a beautiful Muggle girl who worked in an insurance office in Cardiff

(from Pottermore)

I decided I wanted Remus to be Welsh, so I gave him a South Welsh accent in my head. (Example)

Since there's no one on this list from the north, I'd like Neville to keep Matthew Lewis' Yorkshire accent. (Example)

Trelawney is a cornish name and JKR chose it on purpose:

I love Cornish surnames, and had never used one until the third book in the series, so that is how Professor Trelawney got her family name.

(from Pottermore)

So, I'll take it to mean Trelawney is from Cornwell and has a Cornish accent. (Examples)

I have no clue about Peter.

If any Brits are reading this, how did I do?

As for your other questions: not really.

I mean, Harry is pretty detailed with character descriptions (especially for the main ones, including himself and Hermione who are often headcanoned as having darker skin but are described as white in the books on multiple occasions) so I never really felt there was headcanon space there for the characters I cared for. Personally, I try to keep my headcanons as canon compliant as I can so if someone has a description, I won't come up with a different one.

As for fics, I don't really do fic recs, so I'm sorry I can't help you with that.

[intheholler]

Do you have any tips for being more comfortable using your natural accent in front of people? I was bullied for it as a kid and scrubbed my accent away through teenhood. As an adult, I feel like I still have to put on a neutral accent so people at work won't judge me. I told one of my old bosses that I was from Appalachia and he went on about how he'd seen do many documentaries on Appalachia and what good people we were, but also added that "Wow! I never would have known. You don't have an accent at all. You're so well-spoken!" and it felt bad. I think he had good intentions, but it made me feel like a zoo animal. I always see comments on other Appalachian folks' posts about their accents too, and there's always a handful of jerks who have to say something about their intelligence or make an incest or drug addict "joke".

It all hurts a lot and makes me self-conscious, but I don't want to be this way around my friends. Do you know how I can stop letting peoples' ignorance and classism get to me? Worrying about how I pronounce words or if I'm using region-specific slang all the time is so exhausting.

hi there <3 this is a topic near n dear to my heart because i spent so much of my life trying to avoid sounding appalachian, and the last few years of it desperate to sound so aggressively appalachian that yankees can't understand me, lmao.

that is all to say: this is gonna be long as usual.

first: class solidarity, family <3 this stuff really sucks.

what inspired me to push past the discomfort of using my natural accent after a lifetime of getting rid of it was actually along the lines of what you mentioned: people being shocked that i could be from appalachia, and be articulate at the same time. there are so many nasty, hurtful implications there.

i hate to say it, but there's no easy answer to this.

something in me just… snapped one day about ten years back. i started to look inward, and i discovered this overwhelming pride and passion and love for my home that i had denied myself my whole life, out of fear over how it made me look.

i started doing the self-work and digging deeper into that. it wasn't comfortable, but once i embraced appalachia, i wanted to defend her. the best way to do that for me was to be loud. my pride in where im from outweighed the rest.

maybe you should start there, too. look inward, break down your own subconscious biases about yourself and about our home. find out why you have been made to think this way.

work on loving the appalachian parts of yourself. GET. FUCKING. ANGRY. at those who poisoned your mind with this shit, and use that fury to work on dismantling the beliefs they imposed upon you.

because why shouldn't we talk like our mamas just because some asshole thinks its funny? why should we give up ties to our community and culture, just to be respected? why should every blessed conversation be emotionally and physically taxing just to make a classist more comfortable?

it isn't my shame to carry, and it isn't yours. it is their shame, and their self-work to do. it is not our responsibility to coddle their ignorance. that is on them.

now, when someone hears me talk, it causes a sort of dissonance that they then have to wrestle with. it shifts the discomfort and emotional labor away from me, and puts it on to them instead.

every time i speak proudly, they have to confront themselves and their biases, and how it harms someone that they respect--you.

and if they aren't the kind of person empathetic enough to do that, literally who gives a shit what someone like that thinks about you.

turn those 'jokes' they make about it right back on them:

why is drug addiction funny? why is incest and sexual assault of children funny? why are underfunded schools and a failure to give children across the nation a fair and equal education something to laugh about?

framing it in my mind that i was taking back control in conversations this way helped me speak more comfortably. it made me feel empowered.

i think of it like this: by speaking in my dialect and embodying positive and "unexpected" traits from the region (leftist politics, anti-racism, things like that), i reclaim my power. i use that power to slowly shift the opinions of appalachia with the people i interact with.

it was scary, and it's still scary. but by making a conscious decision every day to speak in our dialect and be courageous even when it's hard, we are reclaiming the parts of ourselves that they took from us. we are bettering the image of the region we love so dearly.

it is INCREDIBLY empowering now to settle into my accent. but it took a LOT of self-work, courage and self-respect to be able to do it.

it ain't easy. i do still struggle with it; i catch myself code switching all the time. i don't think you or me or any of us trying to reclaim our accents will ever fully escape the weight of the classism that dictated our manner of speaking for a huge chunk of our lives, unfortunately.

but if you do that difficult work, it is so, so liberating, family.

you can do it. talk to yourself when you're home alone. let the accent get comfortable again on your tongue. start there, then let that beautiful dialect out for the world to hear <3