#two innocent people died as a result

[carnival-core]

Hey not to make a political post but does it ever feel like we can just never win and the suffering will be forever and we're always going to have to fight with moments of peace being fleeting and not worth looking forward to

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Cranberries - Zombie 1994

"Zombie" is a protest song by Irish alternative rockband the Cranberries. It was written by the lead singer, Dolores O'Riordan, about the young victims of a bombing in Warrington, England, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The song was released on 19 September 1994 as the lead single from the Cranberries' second studio album, No Need to Argue. While the record label feared releasing a too controversial and politically charged song as a single, "Zombie" reached number 1 on the charts of Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, and spent nine consecutive weeks at number 1 on the French SNEP Top 100. It reached number 2 on the Ö3 Austria Top 40, where it stayed for eight weeks. The song did not chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart as it wasn't released as a single there, but it reached number 1 on the US Billboard Alternative Airplay chart. Listeners of the Australian radio station Triple J voted it number 1 on the 1994 Triple J Hottest 100 chart, and it won the Best Song Award at the 1995 MTV Europe Music Awards.

The Troubles were a conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s to 1998. The Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), an Irish republican paramilitary organisation, waged an armed campaign to end British rule in Northern Ireland and unite the region with the Republic of Ireland. Republican and Unionist paramilitaries killed more than 3,500 people, many from thousands of bomb attacks. One of the bombings happened on 30 March 1993, as two IRA improvised explosive devices hidden in litter bins were detonated in a shopping street in Warrington, England. Two people; Johnathan Ball, aged 3, and Tim Parry, aged 12, were killed in the attack. 56 people were injured. Ball died at the scene of the bombing as a result of his shrapnel-inflicted injuries, and five days later, Parry lost his life in a hospital as a result of head injuries. O'Riordan decided to write a song that reflected upon the event and the children's deaths after visiting the town: "We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that's why I was saying, 'It's not me' – that even though I'm Irish it wasn't me, I didn't do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension." The song was re-popularised in 2023 after it was played after Ireland games at the 2023 Rugby World Cup. It was picked up by fans of the Irish team, with videos of fans singing the song in chorus accumulating hundreds of thousands of views on social media. This offended other Irishmen, who identified it as an "anti-IRA" anthem, and said that that the lyrics failed to consider their experience during the Troubles.

The music video, directed by Samuel Bayer, was filmed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the heart of the Troubles with real footage, and in Dublin. To record video footage of murals, children and British Army soldiers on patrol, he had a false pretext, with a cover story about making a documentary about the peace-keeping efforts in Ireland. Bayer stated that a shot in the video where an SA80 rifle is pointed directly at the camera is a suspicious British soldier asking him to leave, and that the IRA were keeping a close look at the shoot, given "the British Army come in with fake film crews, getting people on camera.” While "Zombie" received heavy rotation on MTV Europe and was A-listed on Germany's VIVA, the music video was banned by the BBC because of its "violent images", and by the RTÉ, Ireland's national broadcaster. Instead, both the BBC and the RTÉ opted to broadcast an edited version focusing on footage of the band in a live performance, a version that the Cranberries essentially disowned. Despite their efforts to maintain the original video "out of view from the public", some of the initial footage prevailed, with scenes of children holding guns. In March 2003, on the eve of the outbreak of the Iraq War, the British Government and the Independent Television Commission issued a statement saying ITC's Programme Code would temporarily remove from broadcast songs and music videos featuring "sensitive material", including "Zombie". Numerous media groups complied with the decision to avoid "offending public feeling", along with MTV Europe. Since it violated the ITC guidelines, "Zombie" was placed on a blacklist of songs, targeting its official music video. The censorship was lifted once the war had ended. In April 2020, it became the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on Youtube.

"Zombie" received a total of 91% yes votes!

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate.

Beast and his mate.

Yan! Ishakan x Reader

Part 1.

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Halloo is neva again, is beens longs i had no post any story TvT... well i had some busy stuff to do, so hope you all forgive me.

And this first my series Manhwa chara, soons will be much chara came out, so stay alwalys love🦋🦋.

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

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Fire, blood and corpses'

is a view from a small village in the far west which has unspoiled natural beauty.

However, all of that was damaged when an invasion from a foreign continental kingdom came into conflict with another kingdom, resulting in several villages being affected by the conflict.

Day and night only the sound of screams, sadness, wrath, and much more, the beautiful village has become a sea of ​​blood of innocent people.

Village of a thousand nights, a village for nature people which has a million cultures and also unbeatable beauty. village for the Antrabeth race.

Hair is blue as bright as the sky, the brighter and smoother the hair, the higher the inner bond with nature.

They are a closed people, living in a mountainous environment covered by forests and sunlight. However, their blood is their curse, the anthrabeth race is famous for their blood which can cure all diseases for those who drink the blood and also the blood of those who seek a long, eternal life.

The Antrabeth race is the enemy of the witch and the kurkans, the witch really like experimenting and some stuff unormalize thing and the kurkans believe that marrying an antrabeth race will produce invincible offspring.

However, the world thinks that the Antrabeth Tribe is just a myth, because their existence cannot be proven.

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The stomping of feet and gasping for breath were silent witnesses in the night.

You, running with your aunt, managed to survive the post-war tragedy between the neighboring kingdom and the kingdom where you live.

The war between these two kingdoms caused damage to small villages, one of which was Antra village, a village for the Antrabeth tribe.

You and your aunt Reane are running from the pursuit of knights from an enemy kingdom who are ordered to kill women and kill men for blood.

Entering the border of the dense forest, your aunt stopped running, you who were running beside her also stopped, your breath was short, with the throbbing of blood flowing very quickly.

Your aunt could only stare at you sadly as you pressed your foreheads together.

"Run, nephew, don't let them catch you!" Your aunt's voice shook violently, ordering you to run as if this was a goodbye.

"What do you mean aunt?! We'll be safe, okay?" Enough lives have been lost tonight! I don't want to lose you too auntie!!." With a voice shaking with sadness you rejected your aunt's idea as if asking you to run.

"Don't be stupid!, they won't stop chasing us until one of us died. Listen nephew, the antrabeth tribe, our family is on the verge of extinction because of our blood, you have to run, save yourself."

"But auntie?! I can't!" you could only cry as your aunt pushed you hard.

"Run, don't let they catch you!" That was the last sound of your aunt running against the current, the voices of the enemy kingdom's knights shouting with a joyful hum as if they had caught a good catch.

You could only stare at the light of the torches and the sound of the horses' stampedes that were getting louder and louder. disappear. Your aunt, has been captured by the enemy knights.

Certainly, once they get your aunt's blood, your aunt will be killed just like that.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you can only run forward, entering the forest deeper, the dark forest with the sound of animal sounds and moonlight are the only things that accompany your sad night.

Running with all your might you can only feel deep sadness, your mother and father were killed cruelly when your father and mother tried to save you, the inhabitants of the antrabeth tribe, the men were killed very cruelly, the women women and children were also killed old and young.

They only seek 1 thing, blood, the blood of the antrabeth tribe against the laws of nature, blood that can give long life like eternity and can cure all kinds of diseases.

Your blue hair is tangled, many leaves and twigs that's caught in your hair, the sweat that sticks to your forehead, the roar of your heart beating so fast that it adds to your running adrenaline.

Until your body is at the very high threshold because of tiredness from running and pushing yourself too hard, you stumble and fall, you faint on the mossy ground lit by the moon and surrounded by trees.

A thin mist covers your figure lying pitifully, as if nature is afraid if there is who tries to hurt you again.

Just when your eyes are almost completely closed, you see the silhouette of an old woman looking at you sympathetically. Until total darkness envelopes you.

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A young woman with her hands and feet covered in bandages to heal abrasions, lay weakly and helplessly on an old mattress that had not been used for a long time.

An old woman slowly wiped the dirt that covered the body of the young woman who was lying weakly.

In a soft voice the woman said

"What in seven hells did this poor girl actually experience?"

After cleaning the young woman, the old woman put on a long, soft nightgown.

Carrying a tray carrying a small bucket of murky water and a dirty towel.

Walking slowly, closing the bedroom door gently, leaving the young woman to rest.

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The sound of birds chirping melodiously decorated the beautiful morning in the middle of the dense forest.

Rays of light entered the slightly open window and illuminated a woman resting peacefully on the bed.

Frowning slowly, you opened your eyes slowly but surely, blinking to adjust your vision.

You see a room with minimalist furniture and decoration, with a very pungent smell of dust entering your respiratory tract.

Slowly waking up you look around, wondering who saved your life.

Then you slowly pull aside the blanket that covers your body, staring in shock, your hands and feet are covered with bandages that have a strong herbal aroma.

When you are about to get out of bed and try to stand up you fall onto the wooden floor, making a fairly loud sound.

'Dug'

'Dug'

'Dug'

The sound of quite heavy footsteps can be heard outside this room.

You who fell could only look towards the closed wooden door, until the door opened, indicating that someone had opened it.

There you see an elderly woman, her hair has white strands, skin that is no longer young, with a slightly hunched body.

"Why are you getting out of bed?!, you are not fully recovered!"

Walking slowly, the woman helps you to sit on the bed.

With a still weak voice, you asked the woman.

"Are ... you the one who saved me?"

The woman just nodded her head.

"My name is Esmera" the woman introduced herself as Esmera.

You also introduced yourself to her.

"You're from the Antrabeth tribe, right?" Emsera asked while gently stroking your bright blue hair.

You looked at her warily, thinking that Esmera might have saved you with another intention.

"Don't worry, I don't need your blood, this is just the first time for me to see the Antrabeth tribe directly."

Esmera, the old woman just chuckled softly seeing your confused face, while sitting slowly beside you she said.

"The Antrabeth tribe, everyone on the entire continent thinks that you are just a myth."

You could only stare in confusion, if the Antrabeth tribe is just a myth, why does the enemy kingdom know the existence of the Antra village?

You think, for the first time you finally realize one thing... the antrabeth tribe is a tribe that is close to nature, a village of a thousand nights, a village covered in thick fog and located in a dense forest, how could the enemy kingdom find the village where you live.

Many questions crossed your mind.

"I don't know what happened to you, , but from what I know, your presence can endanger you.".

You who were confused asked Esmera why that was.

The old woman just sighed while looking at you she said.

"Your tribe has not appeared on several common continents for more than 100 years, just your appearance is enough to shake the world."

You could only be silent hearing Esmera's words.

Then when you were about to speak, Esmera cut you off first.

"You are even more unsafe once you meet the Kurkans."

You who have been living in the depths of the forest just stared confusedly and chanted the name of the Kurkan tribe, asking Esmera what Kurkan is.

"Kurkans, are a tribe that has an extraordinary appearance and physical strength and is very strong, they are more often known as barbarians."

"In short, Kurkans will make you a partner if they find you, they are famous for kidnapping partners they choose through their animal blood instincts"

"The Kurkans consider partners important, and if they have acknowledged them as their partners, they will kidnap the person they consider to be their partner, forced or not, they will not let go of the partner they choose easily".

You just stared at Esmera who was busy checking the wounds on your hands and feet.

You then told me about what you experienced, the war, and the massacre.

Esmera looked at you sadly, the woman did not expect the tribe that was thought to be a myth to disappear overnight.

"Of course .... maybe you are the only one left"

Patting your shoulder, Esnera said.

"Let's change your hair and eyes first, because your hair and eyes are the most striking."

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That afternoon you passed by trying to walk slowly.

Esmera is a witch, you as an antrabeth tribe know from the elders to stay away from witches, especially dark witches. At first you were quite afraid of Esmera, but Esmera assured you that she had retired, because Esmera is a natural witch, a witch who guards this forest, the same forest where you fell, the same forest where you will live with Esmera.

Witches have many types, but the most famous are dark witches, because they like to hang their victims from trees, create blood rain, during the blood moon and legal witches usually have the ability to hypnotize their victims and do what they want.

And Esmera is a natural witch, a witch who is usually tasked with guarding a forest or natural environment, and they are witches with a retirement age, when they are 40 years old, they are required to retire, in short like that.

But you remain vigilant, because you have only just met Esmera not long ago.

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It's been 3 months since the incident you experienced before, now you live with Esmera, the woman is willing to take you in, because Esmera also said that sometimes she lives lonely, even though there are forest animals that accompany her.

Your hair and eyes have been changed by Esmera with a potion of drops, just 1 drop is enough.

Your bright blue hair and galaxy-colored eyes have changed to black and brown.

At first you were not used to it, but the effect of this potion only works for 5 hours, Esmera said to use this potion in certain conditions, such as going to the market or when you are being chased by something that could harm you.

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In the afternoon, as usual, you explore the forest with 1 white ferret and a wild deer. Of course you are in disguise, even though this forest is protected by Esmera's magic, you still have to be careful.

Walking enjoying the forest with your two friends on the path you usually take, only to find a man covered in a robe holding his injured stomach.

You who can't see injured people unconsciously approach the man,

"Hello?" you were surprised almost tripping when the man's face appeared in front of you, a handsome face, very exotic brown skin, and... his eyes that had a sharp structure that was bright gold shining.

You have never seen someone with such bright and beautiful eye color, unfortunately you are not aware that your eyes are also very bright and beautiful.

This is the first time you have interacted with someone other than Esmera and the Antrabeth Tribe, and you also don't know who this man is? And from what tribe. That doesn't matter, what's important now is to heal this man and ask him to leave here immediately.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" A harsh and mocking tone.

You don't like this man, okay face, very bad character. But you have the instinct to help others, obviously you won't let this man go just like that.

"I'll help you, in return please get out of here quickly."

The man just looked at you with a suspicious look, but he wasn't as rude as before.

You realized that Esmera would be here soon, and this man might die, because Esmera has a rule that men are destroyers, and they are not allowed to enter this forest.

You think of a quick way, 1 drop of your blood is enough to heal this man's wounds.

"Can you open your mouth?" Asking in a soft and friendly tone. You were only answered with a rough and arrogant voice again, seriously you are now thinking why is this man so arrogant and rude?.

"Why should I open my mouth?! My wound is in my stomach, not in my mouth!".

You dislike this man more and more, you know he suspects you but being rude is also not right and you also realize the two animals that come with you are moving more restlessly.

With one needle prick, you forcefully direct your index finger into the man's mouth, making him inevitably taste 1 drop of your blood.

The man, of course, was surprised and wanted to push you, but he stopped moving when he tasted your blood, blood usually smells like iron and has an unpleasant taste, but your blood, as sweet as nectar, has no iron smell at all.

You wipe your fingers on the man's robe, because there is his saliva left behind.

Then you stand up and say.

"Go immediately, don't ever come back"

Ride the wild deer and ferret that have stayed on your shoulder, you leave the golden-eyed man.

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The man just stares at you with a look that is difficult to interpret, then he lifts his shirt a little and sees, the stab wound in his stomach, slowly heals and leaves no scar at all, the man who feeling tired before, became fit and full of energy.

The man slowly stood up out of the forest, his mind still processing who are you?, how can blood heal a very deep and poisonous stab wound?. There were many questions in the man's mind.

The man walked and a few moments later, 2 other women and man came to the man's side bowing slightly.

"Your Highness, we have been looking for you, it is a relief to see you are okay" the women with a scar on her face spoke, with exotic skin too.

Then followed by a man who had blue eyes with exotic tan skin.

"The rebellion has succeeded your Highness, now all the Kurkans are waiting for you, Your Highness Ishakan".

The man... The King of the Kurkans, the new king of the Kurkans tribe, a tribe with animal blood, a tribe that has extraordinary physical abilities and looks, the King of the Kurkans tribe.

Combing his hair slowly, Ishakan only answered briefly to his two aides, Genin the women with a wound on her face, and Haban the man with blue eyes just stared at Ishakan in confusion.

Then Ishakan said.

"Have you two... ever heard of a case where blood can heal wounds in an instant?"

Haban and Genin just looked at each other. Genin as Ishakan's aide and right hand answered.

"I don't think there is any case like that and it sounds very unreal, your Highness".

Ishakan grinned and said.

"Too bad I just experienced it." Ishakan looked back into the dark forest covered in fog.

"I found something very interesting, a very interesting rabbit."

chuckling while grinning, Ishakan walked away followed by his two aides who just stared confusedly at the forest behind them and walked away, towards their kingdom, the large oasis at the western end of the continent.

Ishakan had found a figure that made his instincts scream ripples, the instinct to claim something that was rightfully his, his mate.

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*source Images : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

Special Story for my Love; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut

Tag list; @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love & Liabilities: Chapter 5 (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: While you prided yourself on your ability to always put your work above everything else, what happens when you find yourself haunted by a ghost from the past? (A ghost who brings baked goods, waters plants, and enjoys reminding you of what you’ve been missing)

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage! Mommy Kink, degradation kink, light choking, dirty talk, blow job, strap-on sex

A/N: Lawyer!Agatha is back! Finally returning to this fic and planning on updating as regularly as my schedule will allow. If you'd like to be added to my tag-list, feel free to let me know! (if you changed your handle or aren't on here but were previously please lemme know and I'll add you back) Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy- would love to hear what you think!

Tag-List: @chiar4anna @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @ris-ris-mind @tr333sus @sabstance-blog

Previous Chapter

Present Day

If there was one thing you had learned from practicing law, it was that the world was filled with misconceptions. For many, misconceptions were nothing more than what the word suggests; small errors. However, as a prosecutor you found yourself unable to revel in that life of luxury. 

In your line of work, a misconception could result in something as trivial as having difficulty filling a jury due to anyone with a beating heart finding an excuse to be sent home. Or to the more extreme case of a criminal being able to walk with no consequences.

However, occasionally the opposite would occur, where the details of a case become so warped and misconstrued that someone innocent is found to be guilty. 

But, you weren’t supposed to worry if a defendant was innocent when your entire job revolved around proving why they were guilty. 

That’s what made the past few days so confusing. 

You had looked over the files Agatha accidentally left behind, and found they held more questions than answers. As crazy as it sounded, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was an accident, as any normal person would never compromise such sensitive details to their opponent. 

But then again, most people weren’t Agatha Harkness. 

To your knowledge, one set of the hospital records, Wanda Maximoff’s records, were previously sealed, and you didn’t want to imagine what the attorney had done to acquire them. 

You did wonder if perhaps this was some sort of trap that Agatha was hoping you’d fall into in order to incriminate you, because if there was one thing your former lover prided herself on it was always being ten steps ahead of her opponent before obliterating them in court. 

But that was surely just your paranoia talking.

A few days after Agatha’s impromptu break in you finally finished combing over every last possible piece of information you could gather from the hospital records. The two patients, one of them being Wanda Maximoff, had been involved in a car wreck. Wanda had been eight months pregnant at the time. 

The second patient, Victor Shade, died shortly after being rushed into emergency surgery.

You had scanned and searched the records for more information, perhaps on Wanda’s pregnancy, or even the severity of her injuries. But, and you were nearly certain this wasn’t a coincidence, the majority of the pages were missing.

It didn’t take you long to guess who most likely had a perfectly manicured hand in that.

Agatha Harkness was single-handedly the most pompous, deceitful, domineering individual you had ever encountered, but she was also the most intentional. Every movement she made was calculated, and you knew she had these papers for a reason.

You weren’t Agatha, nor would you wish that particular curse on your worst enemy, but you knew her better than anyone. Or at least you did, for a time. 

Closing your eyes as you rested at your desk, you briefly recollected how intimately acquainted you once were, before remembering how much had changed in the time since.

As you opened your eyes, they landed on the files and a small voice in the back of your head suggested you try calling Agatha. Just to give them back to her. 

You did already get all the useful information that was available, you reasoned. Knowing Agatha, she’d likely question why you had waited so long, but you already had an excuse for that.

You were fairly busy after all, and your paralegal was on vacation, so your normally clear desk now had a mountain-sized pile of papers that made your head spin if you stared at it for too long. If Agatha complained you’d just lie and say they had gotten lost until you sorted through everything.

Besides, you thought bitterly, Agatha lied to you plenty, about things of far greater importance than this. 

Checking the time on your phone, you wondered if nine pm on a Friday night was too late for a phone call, but Agatha had always been nocturnal, often working until the early hours of the morning. You used to find her passed out, slumped over her desk in the home office of the apartment you shared, and you’d drag her back to bed.

Your cheeks grew hot at the reminder of how you’d convinced her to follow you.

Clearing those thoughts from your mind you scrolled through your contact list until you landed on her name. There were a handful of times over the years where you considered deleting it, or blocking her number. But there was this unyielding force within you, prohibiting you from ever following through with it.

Knowing Agatha you wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow cursed you.

Your stomach did sickening flip flops as your index finger trembled, hovering over her name. This is ridiculous, you reasoned, finally pressing down, turning on the speaker setting as you set your phone on the edge of your desk. 

Unfortunately, instead of a familiar ringing noise, you were alarmed to hear an automated message, telling you that the number had been disconnected, before the line went dead.

She changed her number?

Your heart sank as you stared at the bright glow of your phone screen, the contact seeming to mock you. Letting out an agitated sigh, you snatched the device, holding it in your palm. Your hands were unsteady, and you hesitated for a moment, eyes locked on her name. The purple heart that accompanied it had been your idea, her signature color. It felt fitting at the time.

Without another thought, you swiped your finger to the right, permanently deleting the contact before shutting your phone off and tossing it in your bag, leaving your office without another thought. 

She changed her number.

You’d like to say you spent your weekend with your work laptop and phone shut off, enjoying your two days away from the office. But that would be a bold faced lie. You wouldn’t call yourself a workaholic, on the contrary your hours weren’t nearly as intense as when you were still in corporate law. 

Billable hours were a gift from the devil herself, truly.

You weren’t a workaholic, but you were a perfectionist. It was a matter of pride to be detail oriented, to be willing to go the extra mile and find the smallest flaw in a case. It’s what drew you over to the litigation side of things to begin with. Contracts, as thrilling as they could be, didn’t provide the rush of adrenaline being in court granted you.

It was ironic, you swore up and down this side of law could never interest you, but now you couldn’t imagine practicing anything else.

Well, you could, at times, as brief flashes of conversations with the one person you’d felt safe enough to share them with replayed in your brain. But that was a dream you’d given up on a long time ago, among other things.

As it turned out, time could change a lot.

When Monday morning came rolling around, you repeatedly hit snooze on your alarm, not quite feeling rested from your weekend. You took your time for once, even making yourself breakfast. With your paralegal still on vacation you realized how dependent you had become on her for the smallest of things, meals included. 

You should really talk about getting her a raise.

Despite your leisurely start to your morning, you were still out the door before most of the city was awake. You loved the chaos of Manhattan, the crowds of people and thralls of traffic were a warm contrast to the environment you had grown up in. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy a morning commute that took under a half hour, as your Lyft zoomed through the relatively light traffic for a Monday morning. 

Since you worked all weekend your email inbox was manageable, and you marked a few messages to reply to later that morning. You were thankful for the lighter workload, as it allowed you to solely concentrate on your case. 

The ticking time bomb of the one month continuance wasn’t something you wanted to worry about just yet. 

Strolling into your building, you were unsurprised to find you were the first person to arrive for the morning. Walking past some of the potted plants near your office door, you frowned, stopping in front of them and examining tiny droplets of water on the leaves.

Did someone water them recently?

Maybe one of the janitorial staff did it, you concluded, shaking the thought from your mind as you fumbled around for your keys. Pulling them out from your pocket, you went to unlock the door, but were alarmed to find the door was already unlocked.

You didn’t have to open the door fully to know she was there, but you did anyway. 

Swinging the door open, you found Agatha already in your office. Only this time she was sitting at your desk, her feet perched up on the edge, her shiny black loafers reflected by the light. She was engrossed in reading something, her thick black rimmed glasses hanging low on her nose. 

“What the fuck are you doing here,” you hissed, slamming the door shut behind you. 

Agatha didn’t look up from whatever she was reading, but you watched her lip curl upwards, forming a cruel smirk. “Good morning to you too, dear. Muffin?”

It was then you noticed the box of baked goods on the edge of your desk. The sweet aroma of pumpkin and chocolate wafted through the room, they were always your favorite. 

No. You knew what she was doing. 

“I already ate, thanks,” you coolly replied, dropping your work bag near the door, before locking it. “You can’t keep breaking into my office. Do you have any idea what my colleagues would say if they saw you coming and going?”

Agatha hummed, dramatically flipping the page, and you felt a wave of anger rush through you. 

“That sounds more like your problem than mine,” Agatha unhelpfully pointed out, finally setting her papers down to look up at you, and removing her glasses. “Although to be fair, it’s almost insulting how easy it is to get in here. You should really talk to someone about investing in more advanced security measures.”

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, folding your arms across your chest. 

“Are you not happy to see me?” Agatha asked, fake pouting as she put her arms behind her head, the bottom of her dress shirt riding up, exposing her toned stomach. 

Agatha gave you a sly grin, and you quickly averted your eyes. She was unbelievable, really. 

You don’t know what you ever saw in her.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath. 

“What are you doing here, Agatha?”

“I was just in the neighborhood,” Agatha explained, kicking her feet off your desk, standing up. She pulled what she was reading up from a stack of papers, waving it in front of you. “You had something of mine.”

The file she had left behind. 

You fell quiet, and Agatha took the opportunity to approach you, tilting her head to the side. 

“What a naughty girl, keeping something that doesn’t belong to you.”

Ignoring the embarrassing rush of heat that threatened to pool between your thighs, you glowered at her. 

“Save it, Agatha. You left those here and I had no way of getting in touch with you,” you spat out, quickly losing whatever patience you had attempted to hold onto. “Who the hell changes their number nowadays?”

You froze, and Agatha’s eyes widened for a brief moment, before taking a step closer to you, stroking her chin with her thumb. 

“I should feel flattered you saved my number all these years later,” Agatha teased, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You tensed at her change of tone, her words having too strong of an impact on you. 

“Is everything a joke to you?” 

Agatha paused, thinking over your words, a calculated grin forming as her blue eyes gleamed. “No, actually. The spousal support I owe my ex wife, for example? Not funny at all, although I’m sure she gets quite the kick out of it.”

You found it rather unsurprising that Agatha managed to marry someone even more deranged than she was, but the difference being you actually liked the ex wife more than the attorney in question.

You’d probably have gone mad as well if you had ended up marrying her.

“You have your papers, get the hell out of my office,” you ordered, not in the mood to continue arguing with her.

Frowning, Agatha set the file on your desk, coming closer to you as she brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear before leaning in, breath hot against your skin.

“Do you really want me to leave? If I recall, you used to enjoy our little games.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the pleasurable sensation of her voice echoing in your ear, as you rubbed your thighs together, wishing she didn’t cause this strong of a reaction anytime she spoke to you. 

“I want nothing to do with you,” you reminded her, stifling a gasp as the attorney blew in your ear.

“Are you sure?” Agatha mocked, her fingers playfully tugging on your blazer. “You’re so stressed, not that I blame you. Imminent doom tends to leave one feeling tightly wound.”

“I hate you,” you breathed out, but your words held no weight as you didn’t move away from her touch.

“Yes, good,” Agatha cooed, pushing you backwards until your back hit the desk, towering over you. “More of that.”

This needed to stop, you knew it needed to stop. Each time you let her back in it did more harm than good. She was parasitic, infecting you with the need to be consumed by her and her alone.

“Agatha,” you protested, shifting your weight around, unintentional brushing against her pelvis, and your eyes widened, shooting her an incredulous look. “You didn’t.”

Agatha feigned innocence, pressing her hips flush against yours, and you moaned at the direct contact, feeling the strap she was packing under her pants. “I didn't do what, dear?”

Your body betrayed you as you craved more friction, and Agatha leered, situating her hands on your hips to help you grind against her. Each roll of your hips made you lose whatever sense of self control you were barely grasping onto. The reminders of why this was dangerous territory slipping away as Agatha’s grip on your hip tightened.

The attorney raised one of her hands to roughly grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at her.

Gasping, you closed your eyes, not wanting to look at her. “You seriously put that thing on to come over here?”

“Bold of you to assume I wore this for you,” Agatha murmured in your ear and your eyes shot open, glowering at her.

Your taste in women was truly questionable.

“I hate you,” you said, choking back a whine as Agatha’s lips latched onto your neck, nipping and sucking on your exposed skin.

“I know you do,” Agatha said mockingly, the hand she had on your hip, moving to the front of your dress slacks, skillfully unbuttoning them. “That’s why I can smell you, isn’t it?”

“You’re insufferable,” you groaned, wriggling out of your pants as they fell around your knees, letting out a pathetic whine as Agatha ran two fingers over your underwear. 

“Soaking through your panties like a whore,” Agatha growled, moving the thin fabric aside to touch your aching cunt, feeling how soaked you were. “Is all of this for me?”

“Fuck,” you moaned, head falling back as you gave in to her once more. “Agatha, please.”

Agatha moved her fingers through your slick, finding your clit with ease as she rubbed, kissing the sensitive spot under your jaw. “Please what?”

Bucking your hips up you tried to indicate what you needed, and Agatha seemed to take the hint, teasing your entrance and you let out a guttural moan, trying to fuck yourself on her fingers. 

Letting out a disapproving hum, Agatha removed her fingers, smirking when you cried out in disappointment. She raised her hand, her fingers dripping as they circled your mouth as you parted your lips.

“Suck,” Agatha whispered, forcing you to take her fingers in your mouth. “Show mommy that you deserve her cock.” 

Your cunt clenched at that, the ache becoming more unbearable every second you were left empty. Greedily taking her fingers you sucked them clean, whining at the taste of yourself on your tongue. Agatha let out a low groan as she forced them deeper down your throat, fucking your mouth.

“Such a good slut,” Agatha praised pulling her fingers out, lightly slapping your cheek. “So obedient when your mouth is full. You just want something to suck on, don’t you honey?”

Breathless, you barely recognized the sound of the whimper that escaped your lips. Agatha released you from her grasp, moving to settle into your high-backed leather office chair, index finger curling in a come hither motion, beckoning you to join her. 

“On your knees,” Agatha ordered, removing her slacks to reveal her strap-on.

The dark purple cock was thick, and bigger than what you had grown accustomed to taking in the past few years, and you felt your cunt clench at the thought of having it inside you, stretching you out. Mouth watering you dropped to your knees, and Agatha leaned back in the chair, wrapping her hands around your hair to position where she wanted to.

“Desperate fucking whore,” Agatha degraded you, each word making you drip more than the last. “Make mommy come and I’ll consider fucking that greedy pussy.”

Wasting no time you eagerly leaned forward, tongue swiping out to lick at the head of the toy. Patience had never been the attorney’s strong suit, and she tugged on your hair, forcing you to take more of the cock down your throat. 

“Fuck, good girl,” Agatha moaned, eyes locked on your own as she watched you struggle to take so much at once. “So pretty for mommy when you struggle.”

Her words served as encouragement for you to put on a show, forcing yourself to take her to the hilt. Choking around the strap you felt tears begin to swell in your eyes as you breathed through your nose, and Agatha groaned louder than before. 

“That’s it baby. Swallow me,” Agatha hissed, fucking your face as her hips thrusted harder than before, getting off on using you as her own personal sex toy.

Swearing, Agatha’s hips stilled, face contorted in pleasure as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head, fingers intertwined in your hair as she tugged on the strands to the point where you let out a muffled moan. Panting, the older woman released her grip on your hair, signaling you were allowed to remove your mouth.

Her strap was covered in your saliva as you caught your breath, but Agatha didn’t allow you much time to recover, a feral look in her eyes as she rose from her chair, yanking you up by the hair to face her. The attorney’s blue eyes were clouded with lust as she impatiently spun you around, bending you over your desk.

The humiliation of being exposed this way was too much, and came to the conclusion you could get off like this alone. You didn’t have to look at Agatha to know she was smirking, pulling on your hair again to make you arch your back. 

“Tell me you missed this,” Agatha murmured into your ear, hands groping every inch of your body she could reach. “Tell me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You were almost too far gone to fully think about the implication of what she was saying, but not enough to give in so easily. 

“You wish,” you threw out, moaning louder at Agatha’s responding slap against your ass. 

“Tell me,” Agatha growled, spanking you again, harder than before, cackling at the way your body reacted to it. “So fucking pathetic, no one else can fuck you like this, can they? ”

You remained silent, trying to restrain yourself from climaxing before you felt her inside you again. Agatha spanked you a third time, the slapping sound echoing throughout your office.

“I’ll give you one more chance,” Agatha threatened, and you could tell she was just as far gone as you. “Tell me you missed this.”

“I…I missed this,” you breathed out, the unsaid words hanging heavy in the room, as both you and Agatha knew what you really meant. What she was really asking.

You missed her. 

Agatha rubbed the tip of the strap up and down your cunt, and you whined. She had been torturing you with the teasing, all you wanted was for her to be inside you.

“Mommy, please,” you said, nearly crying.

Without warning Agatha pushed inside your entrance in one thrust, making you take her to the hilt. You nearly screamed, her strap almost painfully deep and your walls fluttered around it. You were so full, the only thought on your mind was how you wanted her to stay inside you forever.

Giving you a moment to adjust to her size, Agatha tugged on your hair again, kissing your neck as her hips rested flush against yours. After a few moments she began to move, thrusting slow but deep, staying buried in your cunt.

“That’s it baby, squeeze my cock,” Agatha moaned, making you feel every inch of her. “Good fucking girl.”

“Mommy,” you whimpered, listening to the obscene sound of your hips thrusting against each other, the noise filling the office. 

“No one else knows what a slut you are, do they?” Agatha mocked, increasing her pace as she fucked you even harder. “You’re just mommy’s little cocksleeve.”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, feeling a familiar tightening as your cunt pulsed around the attorney’s cock. 

“Say it,” Agatha grunted out, moving at an erratic pace. “Say you’re mommy’s cocksleeve.”

“I’m mommy’s cocksleeve,” you said obediently, relishing in the deep groan that left Agatha’s lips, the sound causing you to clench.

You were so close, you could feel it.

Agatha could tell you were nearing your peak, as she wrapped an arm around your waist, lithe fingers finding your clit and rubbing in time with her unwavering thrusts. Every second teetering you closer to falling off the edge of pleasure. 

“Do you want something?” Agatha teased, as you were left breathless after a particularly hard thrust.

“Please,” you begged, not caring how desperate you sounded. “Please I need to…”

“You need what, slut?” Agatha jeered, removing her fingers from your clit, bringing her hand to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “What do you want?”

“Mommy, please,” you pleaded, gasping as the attorney choked you, the delicious burn nearly causing you to finish.

“Come for mommy, baby,” Agatha said, voice hoarse as she kept her hand wrapped around your throat. “Soak my cock.”

You felt yourself let go, body rippling in pleasure as you came, sporadically moving your hips to meet Agatha’s thrusts as she helped you through your orgasm. The attorney grunted before her hips stilled against yours with one final deep stroke, staying inside you as you came down from your high.

Removing her hand from your throat, Agatha stroked your cheek, a stark contrast to how roughly she just fucked you. You let out a deep sigh, collapsing against your desk. It was unclear how long she stayed inside you before she pulled out, chuckling at your little whimpers from being left empty.

“I never understood why you enjoyed running so much,” Agatha said suddenly, body still pressed against yours as she left kisses on every inch of bare skin she could find. “I’ve always found this to be a much more…pleasurable form of cardio.”

You laughed, the sound echoing throughout the room as you felt your heart rate begin to go back to normal. “Funny, Agatha. Very funny.”

Peeling herself off of you, the attorney gently turned you around before settling back in your chair, allowing you to rest on her lap. 

“That was…” Agatha trailed off, brushing your damp hair out of your face. 

“Yeah,” you said quietly. Agatha didn’t have to finish her thoughts, you knew what she was implying.

You wish this could be easier, this gravitational pull you had towards one another; that things weren’t so majorly twisted between the two of you that you could invite Agatha to dinner and try again. Or to even just have a conversation that didn’t start with an argument and end with both of you naked. 

But that wasn’t the reality of the situation, which finally came back to you as you finally caught your breath. 

This couldn’t keep happening.

“I have a lot of work to catch up on,” you said suddenly, clearing your throat as you got off the attorney’s lap. “Um, thanks for…”

“For the muffins?” Agatha jested, avoiding your eyes as she stood up, helping you find your clothes. “Your sweet tooth is hard to forget.”

You smiled for a moment, a bittersweet feeling overtaking you as you let her words hit you. 

“Yeah, for the muffins.”

Agatha finished redressing, her brown hair splayed messily over her shoulders as she unsuccessfully attempted to tame it. You grabbed a spare hair tie from a drawer in your desk, and held it up to her. Agatha nodded, turning around, allowing you to gather her hair and pull it back. You swore you heard her sigh as your fingers combed through the tousled locks, but you quickly secured it, taking a step back.

The attorney turned back around, an uncertain expression on her face, eyebrows furrowed, her frown line becoming more prominent as she stared at you, deep blue eyes boring into your own. 

“You read the hospital records,” Agatha stated, in a tone so certain you questioned why she chose to say it at all.

“Of course not,” you lied, but Agatha’s piercing gaze saw right through you as she arched an eyebrow. “Okay, fine. Yes, I did.”

“And?” Agatha prompted, looking expectantly at you.

“And what?” You questioned, motioning to where the file lay abandoned on the opposite side of your desk. “The majority of the pages are missing. There’s nothing useful there.”

Agatha’s eyes shifted, looking to the ground for just a second, and when she looked back up her signature smirk had returned. “Of course, right as always, dear. I’ll see you in court.”

She snatched the file in her hands before leaving your office, slamming the door shut, leaving you alone, and wondering what the hell just happened. A sinking feeling in your gut was suggesting this case was far more complicated than you had been led to believe.

[koiiiso]

Like A Moth To The Flame

Jinx/F!Demon!R!

Tags: @kings-paintbrush, @cheust,

Proofread: Yes/No

Summery: Fire was that of a force of chaos, a nature to be reckoned with. Long before the rumors of Janna, there was spoken of a demonic force. A girl who embraced the flame fully, more than that of a life. This girl was an immortal force according to the rumors, yet was a power unmatched. When this outcast meets another who embraced the flames of chaos. A Jinx.

Flames have long since been a common sight within Zaun, fire was everywhere. From cigars, to buildings, then for lighting, fire was versatile.

Spirituality was similar. In Zaun, there were four spirits known of, yet only two had names. Janna, and you. Janna was the spirit of wind, and you were that of fire, of flame. Rumors were spread of you faster then you could catch up.

Rumors on how the flames etched farther than before since the calm dispersed, since Zaun lost its order.

The air was gassed, weakening Janna, leaving you and the other two, the spirits of the water and the earth, yet they ultimately were weakened as well, not to mention their lack of a physical form.

Fire however strengthens within gas, spreading fast as soon as a flame reaches the surface. It’s dangerous, far more than that of those enforcers, the ones that etched their hatred into Zaun. It’s a wonder truly.

So many Zaunites could die, innocents could die, and nothing would be done for it. Yet when those of Piltover were attacked, killed in a way similar to the enforcer raids that were carried out on the daily beforehand, the rich scream for more separation, more oppression despite the contradiction.

Zaun needed a leader, and you needed to rid of the gas, why not combine the two?

So you started your search for the martyr, the perfect person for a revolution. The perfect person to rebel.

After what seemed like years but were only that of hours, you found her, face clad on wanted papers, painting Zaun in more paper which will only end up in waste, yet this land was a wasteland. So it’s nothing but a boost for the end result of demise for every land upon this planet.

You found the leader you needed.

Jinx.

Her lair was never empty, yet grief filled the air as the girl entered, a child by her side. The pair entered and jeez, she’ll have to maybe baby proof it or something.

Isha confused her. The kid knew of her and the people who died from associating with her, so why stay with her? She’s a curse, a Jinx.

Isha was a quiet one, sassy as well. Yet despite her silence, she took to Jinx like a moth would to a flame, uncaring of the danger that would occur. For that alone, Isha was brave.

The longer the two spent together, the more Jinx felt happier, finally felt sane and seen. From the times the pair would make beetles brawl a glorious battle to the one time she came back with supplies to see Sevika all dressed in the pinkest princess dress she’s seen with a tiara on her head with Isha, dressed in a blue version of the same dress, a larger crown on her own head. That memory still stays.

A week passed, Isha asleep in the fort the pair made. How could she? How could this kid feel comfortable enough to trust Jinx, to sleep in the same room.

At that moment, Jinx knew she would do anything for that kid, the one who cared for her in return of her care.

From the sidelines you watched. You guess you found your ticket for a better Zaun. You didn’t know if she knows you’re there or not, stalking her throughout everything.

When Sevika gathered up the undercity for a meeting, to unite everyone, you knew of the events that were likely to occur. You were always watching everyone, and by everyone, you meant it. From Caitlyn Kiramman, the new sherif, Violet, who is now a drunk, and Jinx.

Isha has already seen you watching them a few times, to make sure she doesn’t inform Jinx you’ve been bribing her with some of the toys that you stole from Topside. You didn’t know what kids like so you started leaving little notes behind, asking, and she would write in an answer.

You awaited one of the outcomes you expected out of the people who gathered up, all at Vander’s statue. The first one was that Sevika would succeed and the people would riot, would fight. The second would be that the speech would be interrupted by enforcers or something like that.

You stood next to Isha, passing the kid a wind up beetle toy. The kid snuck away from Jinx’s side to attend, whether to draw Jinx herself there or not, the kiddo was there. Her hair was dyed a fresh blue, the clouds drawn onto her.

She nodded to you before sneaking up the statue, the commotion of the Jinxer’s yelling for her was enough to keep her hidden until she released the blue powder, a symbol that drew their attention to her. Sevika sighed as they gradually all held up their hands. Her mechanical one reached up to the sky as well, only to be met with a spear.

“You’re all under arrest.” A bearded man stated calmly, the crowd’s shouting increased as the commotion ensued became more gradual.

Sevika removes the arm, unable to free it. Isha let out a sharp breath, and you knew then you needed to get her out of there before they got to her.

The rioters were pinned down, against the walls, the floors, treated harshly as if they committed that of a grave offense. Isha took the initiative as they were distracted and went to go jump the bearded man, but you got to her first, catching her and throwing a barrage of flames at the man, burning him and those surrounding harshly.

Then the enforcers tackled the two of you. Great.

You were locked away within a different level than the others within Stillwater, the kid was by your side still. Likely, it was because you never let her go. The cell was larger but still barren, on the top floor instead of the bottom. The view was somewhat nice at the very least.

Isha was asleep, using your cloak as a blanket, the toy was hugged to her chest for a comfort needed.

Without the cloak around you, you felt exposed. Looking at yourself, you can only see the monster you become of within yourself, not the girl you once were. From your elbows to the tip of your fingers made proof of your powers, all charred black from the flames they were exposed to.

You sat down next to the cell, a hand on the bar as your thoughts drifted to the memories from that time.

From when you were still human.

You still hear their screams, how that night you were made to be ablaze to atone for your sins. How you set them ablaze in your place. How immortality cursed you because you messed-

The doors to the room the of your cell opened. Standing before you was the girl who you’ve been watching for a long while.

The hand on the bar tightens as the flames start there. Melting a bit of the metallic barrier.

The girl’s eyes widened a bit at the display of magic, shimmer-filled eyes embracing surprise. Jinx hasn’t been surprised much anymore, only mournful. From her sister becoming a blue-belly, to Silco dying at the end of her gun despite being that of a father. She’s full of grief, so ultimately, a sense of surprise is something to be welcomed.

Jinx has long since found herself within the cycle of having those around her die. First it was her parents, then Vander, Mylo, Claggor. She likes to think Violet died that night, replaced by a girl just like her calling herself that same name. Powder died that night as well, yet her soul still clings upon Jinx.

Yet now she has a kid.

And that kid is clinging to you, a fucking fire lady?

She recalls when Sevika came stumbling in, left-armless. Her hair was choppier, a bit burnt on one side, her fresh piercing was torn out of her lip, now covered in a bandage, and smelling like burnt plastic. The rally evidently went bad, horrible even.

She recalls the slight panic, the way Sevika stumbled over her words. Sevika doesn’t do that!

Then the explanation came, and Jinx went paler than her usual pale.

Isha was caught in the arms of a weird fire lady and then was taken to Stillwater.

Then she broke the pair of you out. And now you’re in her hair. You, a total stranger, who seems to not care about her reputation! Why aren’t you cowering in fear or harassing her?

Isha was casually standing beside you before extending her hand. You set down a random action figure and she walks away to the fort the pair share, a bit giddy.

Jinx watches this, albeit confused as it was blatant that Isha knew you. She then breaks the silence, eyes narrowed as she examines you. “So, who the fuck are you?”

Then you told her your name, mortal name.

You haven’t used that name in centuries.

Not since Janna herself saved you from their flames, from their harsh words and claims.

After the declaration of your name, the two of you talked, and talked, for hours.

She was curious of the flames that could protrude from you, how your magic was possible. So you answered as much as you could without having her realize the burden of your spirithood.

You met your martyr, talked with her. Then you enacted your plan.

Time passes with ease once your head is within the clouds.

You and Jinx got along well once the awkward small talk passed, reminders of the war occurring to make the conversation serious. Plans came and went, one accepted, another denied.

Piltover had Noxus in its pockets, Janna’s powers were spiraling, and acts of rebellion spread. Jinxers and others alike were rioting and the enemy was growing ruthless.

You helped the best you could in secret, removing fire from the enemy was easier than planning ultimately. You would help Sevika on occasion, planning out different camps to burn down for an advantage.

The war was well, war. There was violence, some needed, some barely understand within reason.

To be honest, you never understood the outrage within their reactions. Deaths of importance were far too common within Zaun, you should know as you oftentimes helped Janna lead them upon their chosen eternity. Those of Piltover seemed more dramatic than a play within the theater.

Death was a common thing, and it seemed to follow Jinx. You were like that of a moth, feeding upon the chaos that radiates off of her like heat to a flame.

Despite your powers, despite your spiritual self, you were clad within cold, growing numb of the heat. Yet now you felt warmer than ever beside Jinx, Isha was curled into the girl, a stolen toy in her hands.

It made you think of the time you once had a family, one that loved you.

You don’t know if you could call this love, but it certainly felt like more of a family than what you were once given. A plan was sung through the air, the words on your tongue the lyrics.

You felt warm within the arms of the humans, a sympathy of words escaping you.

You would once never believe you could have this, yet you did. The war plan was simpler when said with her hand in yours.

Maybe she wasn’t a Jinx.

[platinumrosetail]

Yandere Hualian x reader.

Warning: In the fem reader's first life, she was the younger sister of General Pei Ming. She lived as a beautiful young woman loved by her brother, without caring that he was a womanizer. Then, according to Pei Ming's ascension story, when he was accused of treason and broke his sword. However, the reader remained in the mortal realm and was unjustly executed. After 800 years she is reincarnated again, but as a humble traveler, there she meets Xie Lian and Huan cheng (you decide how) after many adventures together. He then reunites with his brother, although at first he does not remember him, although Pei Ming insists that he was once his brother. Little by little she will remember her past life. In the end he has a relationship with Huan cheng and Xie lian, and when he remembers his previous life, he sadly dies, but some time later he is reincarnated again.

(I based this request on some Chinese dramas, thank you for accepting it.)

Oooh interesting, also my first heaven officials blessing/tgcf request yay!

Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere characters, and others.

Characters: hualian (hua cheng and xie lian).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were the little sister to pei Ming, you didn’t mind his womanizing ways but you always scold him to be careful as one of those woman he woo’s could seek revenge when he breaks her heart. Though not many gods knew about you as you had died a little after your brother ascended to godhood, falsely accused and executed over a misunderstanding along with how you were the little sister to pei Ming so they thought you had a part in the rebellion even though you were innocent, your brother couldn’t save you as he had only learned after your death that you were in trouble and it was already too late to save you.

Pei Ming has hope that you might reincarnated or turned into a ghost and he just couldn’t find you good enough. He has searched high and low for you, and when he gets frustrated he usually woo women’s hearts and release his frustration by having sex with them and leaving afterwards to continue searching for you after the stress and frustration is out of his body.

Pei Ming was right to think you reincarnated though it was only after 800 years had you finally reincarnated this time as a young female and humble traveler, each time you have left a place he would arrive missing you each time as you have never stayed in one place for too long which resulted you in meeting a nice young man by the name of xie lian who is a humble cultivator also traveling. You soon start having a crush on xie lian as he is such a kind person so it was no surprise when you started developing feelings for the young man.

On your journey with xie lian you meet many interesting people and fight against some enemies as well, though even when you can fight it’s not as good as two junior officials from the heavens and your crush; xie lian, fighting though xie lian always seems to be there for you no matter what and can protect you and your weak spots which warms your heart and love for him.

You soon met hua cheng when you had became a bride bait to lure out the ghost groom or also known as ghost bride as you all soon found out that the ones behind the disappearance of brides was a woman one who shared history with pei Ming, who you find familiar in name but can’t place where it was familiar. Pei jr saw you and noted to tell his father about you.

You later met San lang when he was with you while you and xie lian was riding a cart together to get back home to your little shrine in piqu village, later spending the night there with you and xie lian before the two junior officials came by again with another mission to banyue(?) pass. Many months later and many adventures later you, San lang who you later found out was hua cheng, and xie lian who you also found out later was a god, started a relationship together.

Pei Ming had soon asked xie lian if he could meet you as you very well could be his sister who finally reincarnated, xie lian at first was worried that pei Ming would flirt with you but soon found out that you were pei Ming’s reincarnated sister and let pei Ming meet you though with a subtle warning on if pei Ming hurt you he and hua cheng would show no mercy even if he was your past life brother. You were skeptical about the situation between you and pei as you had no memories and there wasn’t really any proof and pei Ming could have gotten the wrong person but after meeting pei Ming you kept getting memories of your past life but before you could celebrate on finding out the pei Ming is actually your brother you were sadly killed by a jealous woman who had mistaken you for pei Ming’s lover instead of sister.

The woman was soon tortured and killed by hua cheng, xie lian and pei Ming, thankfully the woman was a ghost so xie lian and pei Ming didn’t get in trouble on killing her if she was human, and even if she was it would be easy to hide that fact considering who the three were. Hua cheng and xie lian are now on the hunt for your next life with pei Ming as the two both love you and won’t let you go even after you die and pei had just found you he won’t lose your next life like he did last time which means he gives up on womanizing if it meant you won’t get hurt like you did last time. You won’t ever escape them and no one will ever take you away from them now.

(A/n: hope yall liked it!! I decided on making pei Ming a platonic yandere as I thought it fit plus since xie lian and hua cheng were already yandere i thought why not him too? lol anyway hope yall have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

[avengerphobic]

god another day of the avengers being stuck up bastards i hope they eat shit and die

#so apparently its illegal to rob banks now? #can't believe what this country is coming to

7 notes

❄️ lunasnowed Follow

you think they've no i shant say #dont come at me for shipping real people #they want us to #theyre practically begging us to

🌟dazzlestar Follow

God did you see how luna snow dismissed dazzler at the vmas...... she needs to learn some respect for the heroes that came before her

❄️lunasnowed Follow

kill yourself #sorry dazzler didnt come before her #dazzler is a never has been #luna is an actual popstar dazzler never actually managed that #plus luna has stated in multiple interviews that she doesn't know a lot of American artists #can yall just lay off of her for one minute

⚖️ superheropolls Follow

🧊 iceygirl Follow

LUNA SWEEP

#who even cares about dazzler irrelevant lol

2,657 notes

🧚‍♀️ pixie Follow

i just know that last luna snow song was shading dazzler

🎸lilacheneyfan Follow

thats what i thought 😭 i bet shes a mutantphobe

🕸️ snowspider Follow

yeah and did you jump to those conclusions from the two lines of english or did you both suddenly learn korean #yall will call anyone mutantphobic #obviously she's talking about her enemies in her songs #but yall dont even know korean so you wouldnt know that

1,567 notes

🌻 chulkstan Follow

he's so. 😳 #hi amadeus cho #Hiiiii Hello Haiiii

49 notes

⚡ msmarvelofficial Follow

these dazzler fans are getting so annoying..... luna snow doesn't even know who she is and yall are making things up out of nothing

⚡msmarvelofficial Follow

fuck

🔐 magnetosbitch Follow

??? wow ig that inhuman genes still active

⚡ msmarvelofficial Follow

love the unprompted racism on my post thanks :) #this is why its hard to be a dazzler fan when her stans act like this #anyway stan luna snow

854 notes

🐯 tigerdivision1 Follow

lol another member of x-factor died maybe if he stanned luna snow

84 notes

🎸 has-rick-jones-released-new-music Follow

no

4 notes

🌙 lunamoona Follow

i do think posting luna snow fancams under the x-factor death news on twitter is a tad bit tacky

8 notes

🧚‍♀️pixie Follow

👩🏼 dazzlerpinkhairera Follow

omg where did you get this!!!!!

43 notes

🗿 msthannnngggg Follow

all this beef between dazzler and luna snow fans. meanwhile the darla deering stans stay winning

#unproblematic queen

12 notes

🐺 theonlyrickjonesfan Follow

i dont care about kpop obv but i do find the way they all just stream a song until it's number 1 really weird like ? it should be natural or its not even worth it

🌈 aeropleasecallme Follow

rick jones fans mad they didnt think of it first

🐺 theonlyrickjonesfan Follow

actually you're right stream seduction of the innocent now

#this is how rick can still win

7 notes

[nyerusnova]

Glad to see that Tim being a giant Dick Grayson fanboy is finally being highlighted again, and sparking more discussion especially on their early relationship! (Please gimme more!!! I love them so much, augh!)

Probably as a result of that surge, there seems to be reciprocal chatter on the topic of how young Tim actually felt towards Jason, too. It's honestly pretty interesting, because it's more nuanced than it appears at first glance.

Which means it's very fun to dissect! ✨

There's a degree of subjectivity to keep in mind, because readers are going to have different interpretations of the same scenes, or will pull from entirely different scenes than one another to form their individual view on this topic. That's just how it is in comic book fandom, for many things! Regardless, in this case... if the scale ranges from the extreme of "Jason was Tim's Robin" to the other extreme of "Tim actually hated Jason [as Robin] or thought he was a loser that got himself killed" — the actual truth is closer to the middle, as is often the case.

At least, in my opinion.

Mainly I want to focus on those relatively early days with this post, to highlight Tim's initial(-ish) feelings towards his heroes, and touch on the point at which they really begin to change. This turned into a very long post, though. Brevity is beyond my skill, so grab snacks and water lol. Transcripts for each image will be posted at the very end under the cut.

So, the two storylines I want to cover are "Rite of Passage," which is rolls into "Identity Crisis." (NOT to be confused with the major crossover event "Identity Crisis™" which came years later, and is where Jack Drake dies.... But it sure is an interesting coincidence that Tim deals with the loss of each parent in two similarly named stories!) These take place before Tim is even Robin, and I'll be considering them as one arc for this post.

Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 (July, 1990) -- Pages 1 & 2

"When Gotham needed him, he was there. When the Batman needed him, he was there. He was a hero."

"One day, I'll be as good as Jason. One day I'll wear the suit."

To start off, we have this opening from "Rite of Passage." Tim is still in training here, mainly helping Bruce with minor stuff from the cave. His parents are off traveling, alive and well as of these next few pages. He's still bright-eyed and full of wonder. An extraordinarily weird but ultimately innocent kid.

So his view on Jason is positive and fairly simple: a hero, and someone to look up to as Robin. Clearly, Tim here doesn't think Jason was deficient in his role, either as a protector of Gotham or as Batman's trusted partner.

Moreover, Tim already held Dick in very high regard because he was amazingly skilled before he became Robin. To Tim, that's not something he'll ever be able to achieve. Meanwhile, Jason wasn't like that. He was a regular kid without crazy acrobatic training since practically birth. Yet he still went on to be a hero—which is obviously motivational for Tim who finds himself in similar shoes.

It's true that Tim only ever knew or thought of Jason as Robin, and idolized him in that regard. But that's kind of all that mattered to him at that point, because he was this kid who was utterly star-struck by his heroes. Even if he's technically aware of their shortcomings as people, it's overshadowed by the hero-worship.

It was kind of the same with Bruce as Batman at first. (Which was still enough for Tim to risk life and limb to help his beloved hero, before Bruce even knew his name.) Dick was the only one Tim had any sort of "personal" relationship with beforehand, so there is an extra level of attachment—and hence why it was the nidus for his obsession with Batman. Yet even then, it wasn't like he actually knew anything about Dick as a person until later. Until then, Tim's ideas of him were all he had, too. With Jason, Tim just didn't get to know him at any point before his return (oof), apart from what he heard over the years secondhand (also oof).

Ultimately, it's the loss of innocence—along with the ricocheting bullet that is the unresolved guilt of those around him—that begins to change Tim's perception. Not just of Jason, but of things in general.

Batman vol. 1 #455 (Oct., 1990) -- Page 13

"I know why they do it now. Why they put on the suits, and the masks, and go out into the night. They're angry, they're full of rage. They want to hit back."

Losing his mother was a major shift for Tim, obviously. This is right after the previous storyline, and Tim's had the worst week or two of his life (so far). His monologue here is a reference to what happened to both Dick and Jason. The unbearable pain of loss, the rage masking the grief underneath. And importantly, that he feels both of them were justified in their anger. (And Bruce too, indirectly.)

The major theme of the aptly named "Identity Crisis" is to mirror aspects of Dick and Jason and Tim's lives—to show how they converged onto the same tragic road. It's something that Tim notices early in the story, and was frightened by. Now, horrifically, it's become a part of him as well. His parents are gone, and he was entirely helpless to do anything about it. Dick was the same way, Jason was the same way. The cycle is repeated.

In particular, the part about him wanting to go to Haiti for revenge—for his mother—sort of struck me as being an intentional parallel to Jason and Ethiopia. It's a bit of a stretch, especially in isolation, so others may see it differently (e.g. the angry ramblings of a grieving child that does sound like something anyone might say). But it always stuck out to me because of how much Tim is compared directly to Jason in this arc. More on that below.

It's not something I can really give an accurate feel of because it's a lot of subtle things that begin to add up, so I'd encourage folks to read this arc themselves to see what I mean. (Or maybe you'll still disagree which is fine too lol.) Again, many things are in reference to both Dick and Jason in relation to Tim, but it's weighted more on Jason's side.

Batman vol. 1 #455 (Oct., 1990) -- Page 18

"You think my anger will boil over, the way Jason's did. I can assure you, it won't!"

Tim's grief has begun to pull away the veil of idealism that enshrouded his heroes in his mind. It doesn't apply only to Jason, but to the rest of them. Plus add the fact that Tim's keenly aware that he's being managed, even if the adults around him are careful to not outright say certain things. He still knows.

Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are all worried about Tim potentially turning into "another Jason." They (and mainly Bruce) caution Tim to not ignore his emotions, but they're still concerned that he may be overly eager to prove himself in order to cope, and could get hurt or killed as a result. While they aren't wrong for their caution—especially at how unsettlingly similar all the circumstances are—they aren't very subtle about the elephant in the room.

Imagine how that would affect Tim's perception of his predecessor, especially when he's in the midst of a traumatic event he hasn't had time to fully process. The negative association is pretty much inevitable.

Tim's known from day one that he's walking in Jason's shadow, and now it's become inescapable. Tim went from seeing Jason as a goal to reach, to feeling that unless he surpasses him, he wasn't going to be taken seriously by anyone. However, as of this arc, Tim doesn't even fully come to that point yet.

Batman vol. 1 #456 (Nov., 1990) -- Pages 14 & 15

"Drop-outs don't make it. And dead heroes are no use to anyone!"

It's really easy to take away "Tim totally thought Jason got himself killed" as the main thing here, but I think that's missing the forest for the trees.

First some context: Bruce has gone out on a mission to get Scarecrow, and expressly forbade Tim from doing any shenanigans. Meanwhile, Tim is grappling with wanting to prove himself and trying to help Bruce from the cave, all while trying to deal with his emotions. At some point, he falls asleep and ends up having like... exhaustion-grief hallucinations of Dick!Robin and Jason!Robin who confusingly caution yet encourage him. The main theme of this part is facing your fears.

Depending on how you want to interpret the intent of Jason's dialogue here, you could go several ways with it. Ranging from "writer's feelings towards Jason" to "a peek into Tim's mind as his fears manifest as visions of his heroes" or some mixture thereof.

Though Tim argues with Bruce that Batman needs a Robin, we're shown that Tim is understandably scared of joining Batman's "war." He's still not willing to let Bruce go it alone, though, and that's something he feels more strongly than his fear.

Meanwhile, hallucination!Jason's warnings are a lamentation of what happened to him in a way, but it actually exactly describes Tim's current situation even more so. Unlike Jason, Tim is under-trained, under-experienced, doesn't even have a suit of his own yet. But like Jason, he can't sit by and do nothing while someone he cares about is in danger. Tim knows that if he goes out there, he will probably get himself killed, and it will be his own fault. So he's about to disobey Batman's orders, and fly right into danger. If that got Jason killed, then Tim—who is in a way worse position experience-wise—has every chance of ending up the same.

Like... it's about Jason, but it's also about Tim. It's Tim's worst fears made manifest, via the representation of why he is even here in the first place (Jason's death).

That's my theory anyway, but perhaps this is an overly charitable reading of this scene on my end. (Not that I think that makes me wrong lol.) However given that Grant wrote both parts of this arc, and the beginning of which is especially favorable towards Jason, it certainly is something to ponder. I have a lot of thoughts on it I can't expand on here tbh but perhaps that'll be another post.

Anyway, returning to the point of the similarities vs differences between Tim and Jason: since this is the arc that solidified Tim as the next Robin in comic continuity, it makes sense that the writers really pushed the comparisons between the two of them, specifically. (Even though Dick was pretty similar, as going against Batman's orders is the Robin thing to do, it's not his shoes Tim is directly filling.) So making Tim's "debut" story arc mirror Jason's "swansong" is an obvious narrative choice.

To drive home the parallels, I wanted to include this panel from just a few pages prior to the "daydream":

Batman vol. 1 #456 (Nov., 1990) -- Page 9

"The suit is magic."

That so distressingly close to Jason's famous "being Robin gives me magic" line (Batman #385, page 6). Given all the previous context, it's hard for me to just dismiss it as pure coincidence. Even if it is, the point still stands. Tim is shown having the some of the same heartbreakingly naive views as Jason once did, right in front of Jason's memorial, just as he's about to go and run off into the night against orders.

I think that speaks for itself. There's a lot to take away from it, if you so choose. Especially given the context of that specific Jason arc.

Alright, back to the main course:

So in the end, Tim actually goes out in civvies and a ski mask because if he fails, then at least he wouldn't bring shame to Robin's legacy™. When he gets fear gassed saving Batman, it's once again both Dick and Jason that he hallucinates encouraging him to push past his fear. (Shout out to the fact that he's literally more afraid of tarnishing the legacy of Batman & Robin than he is of dying.... I'm sure this will not be a recurring thing for him in the future.)

Tim's ideology is shown to be similar to Jason's, and the actions Tim ultimately takes are similar to Jason's... but the outcome is different. And it really isn't just "Tim succeeded where Jason failed." At least, that's not what I took away from this. Rather, Tim had no reason to succeed any more than he had to fail, just that he did. Luck combined with caution because he knew what happened to his predecessor, and the fact that Batman was there to finish the job all made the difference.

You could say (and I know some will) that it's just classic Jason character assassination and the writers trying to implore readers that this new kid is different we promise pls don't hate us look how much better he is! But in this case, that feels like it undermines the whole point of this story. It doesn't fit with what the characters actually say.

Thus, we return to the question of how Tim felt towards his predecessor. And the answer is different from where we started, because Tim is different. Not that different though. Because even though at this point Tim—like all the adults around him—has probably attributed Jason "going off on his own" being what led to his death, Tim still thought of him as a hero to look up to. It's about Robin, first and foremost, yes. But Tim is fully aware of the people who made that suit mean what it does, because it's all intertwined.

Batman vol. 1 #457 (Dec., 1990) -- Page 20

"I mean--Dick made it into a symbol the whole world knows. Jason gave his life for it."

Even further, Tim thinks of it in terms of Jason having given his life for what he believed in, for the legacy that now falls to Tim. There's a sense of gravitas there. He's afraid of failing both the Robins who came before him.

Ultimately do I think Tim adored and loved Jason on the same level as Dick or something? No. It's not comparable. (Dick was like part of some of Tim's earliest memories and everything! They have a really unique bond ok.) Yet Tim was also far from thinking poorly of Jason so early on. Frankly, it seems that Tim thought of Jason as a noble hero and a cautionary tale. Yes he took risks and sometimes went too far, generally stuff that Tim doesn't want to repeat and all that. At the same time, Tim still saw him as someone whose legacy and memory was worth honoring.

It's complicated, which is why I like it so much—because it feels real. Having conflicting feelings towards someone is... so human. Especially someone you never got to know, yet who plays such an integral role in your life via the shadow of their death. How can you feel anything but complicated towards them?

It has to be said that, yes, Tim's views—even before Jason's return—change over the years. He becomes more jaded as a person and is surrounded by people who are even more jaded than him... and who often mention Jason as the "failed Robin." It's something that's hung over Tim's head all the damn time. The curse of the Robin mantle.

So it shouldn't come as a surprise that Tim's idea of him becomes more akin to "sounds like a skill issue" as the years go by. All bets are off after Jason's return, and the Titans Tower Incident™. At that point it's firmly "I am better than you, loser" lmao.

And... that's all without getting too into things like authorial intent and general "moods" of different DC writers towards Jason at a given point. Or retcons that played a role in his characterization and how other characters talk about him, depending on what "era" you're reading. That's way beyond the scope of this post though!

TLDR; even though young Tim Drake was obsessed with Dick Grayson as Robin, he still looked up to Jason Todd as well. He didn't think of Jason as a cringefail loser until later. :)

(image dialogue transcripts under cut ↓)

Dialogue Transcript for Image 1 (Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 -- Page 1):

Narration box (Tim): When Gotham needed him, he was there. When the Batman needed him, he was there. He was a hero.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 2 (Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 -- Page 2):

(Scene continued from previous page)

Narration box: But he was nothing special, really. Just a boy, who was taught--trained--brought to his full potential by someone who knew how. Just a boy... like me. I know I can do it. I know I can. One day I'll be as good as Jason. One day I'll wear the suit. One day I'll be a hero.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 3 (Batman vol. 1 #455 -- Page 13):

Tim: I hate him! I hate him! I know why they do it now. Why they put on the suits, and the masks, and go out into the night. They're angry. Full of rage. They want to hit back. They want to fill the hole that's burning inside them.

Bruce: There's more to it than that, son. Much more.

Tim: I know. It's just--I feel--like going to Haiti myself and strangling that creep with my bare hands!

Bruce: The Obeah Man will spend the rest of his life in a prison hospital. He's history. Forget him! But don't fight against your anger. It's natural. Accept it. Live with it. One day it'll be your friend.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 4 (Batman vol. 1 #455 -- Panels from page 18):

Tim: Because you think my mother's death has upset me too much. Well, it did. But I've taken your words to heart. I can cope. You think my anger will boil over, the way Jason's did. I can assure you, it won't. But that doesn't make any difference, does it? Why can't you have a little faith in me?

Dialogue Transcript for Image 5 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Page 14):

Narration box (Tim): Blast it! My head's starting to swim. I'm about ready to give up. I almost wish I'd never heard of Batman and Robin!

Vision Dick: Heroes never give up, Tim.

Vision Jason: You know that.

Tim: Dick--! Jason Todd!

Vision Dick: You're training to fight in a war, Tim. It'll last all your life. No matter what, you have to go on fighting.

Vision Jason: Drop-outs don't make it. And dead heroes are no use to anyone! I thought I knew better than Batman. I thought I could run before I could walk. I killed myself, Tim. Because I couldn't wait. Because I couldn't think it through.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 6 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Page 15):

(Scene continued from previous page)

Vision Dick: Think, Tim. Concentrate!

Vision Jason: You can do it.

Both: You can do it!

Tim, waking up: What--? Robin...?

Narration box (Tim): I must have been daydreaming. They're right, though. There's a solution to everything. I can find it! So here I go again... Whim. Caprice. Doing something without forethought.

Dialogue Transcript for Image 7 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Panel from page 9):

Narration box (Tim): The suit is magic. It gives you power. It hides your weakness. It makes you give it everything you've got. It makes you a hero. If only I could!

Dialogue Transcript for Image 8 (Batman vol. 1 #457 -- Page 20):

Bruce: Are you afraid of it?

Tim: No. It isn't fear. It's more... the suit carries so much history. I mean--Dick made it into a symbol the whole world knows. Jason gave his life for it. Failing them--what they fought so hard to build--that's what worries me!

Bruce: I appreciate that, Tim. That costume weighs a whole lot more than any symbol should... and I'd be failing you if I expected you to bear that weight. So... let me know what you think.

Narration box: A mask has a double edged, he said. It hides your own anxiety as it strikes fear into your enemy.

[madamestephanie]

🌺I honestly think Sirius Black's 12 years in Azkaban was karmic retribution for bullying Severus.

Okay, hear me out, this thought was doing circles in my mind, because the layout is just too perfect. (this is still just my personal opinion, so don't kill me pls)

There are no accidents and The outcome will always match the input are applicable here. Let me explain.

These are laws of the universe, many religions believe in these statements, and if we truly examine our lives, we surely can find one or two scenarios where these pieces of wisdom appear.

As we all know, we ourselves create our own future with our actions and the way we make people feel, (keep this in mind, this is important for later), and for those believing in reincarnation, actions can result in certain punishments that reach us even in our next life. (In Sirius' case, the punishment is not from his past life, but I digress.)

Punishment is not even a good word. Energy matching is a better expression. Vibe, if you will. The whole universe is one constant oscillation. Feelings have vibration, this is why people can read and be affected by other's vibe.

Anyways, point is, if you behave badly, bully others, and make people feel anger, hate, resentment towards you, those low vibes will return to you in one way or another, and that's what we call KARMA. (it's true the other way around as well, do positive things, and you shall receive good back) Do you see where this is going?

To be honest, all of the marauders got their "punishment" for their deeds, and according to the level of participation in said bullying withal!

Lupin, he wasn't too involved in the torment of Snape, plus, he had his own issue to battle (being a damn werewolf) so life kept him in a kind-of-normal place, a middle spot. Still, Severus set the score when he revealed Lupin's secret in POA, so there, punished accordingly.

Peter, I like to imagine him as the parrot on James and Sirius' shoulder, like the backup hype man for the rappers. He stayed in James and Sirius' shadow out of cowardice, but still took part in the bullying more so than Lupin, so he was forced to stay in his rat form for 12 years out of fear. I imagine it's not quite pleasant to be a rat for that long... plus he became Sev's "servant" for a short while, courtesy of Voldemort himself! So, checkmate on Snape's part. Punished accordingly.

Sirius. Need I say more? Years of harassing others gets you years of torment for yourself as well, my friend. He was innocent in the case of not killing people, but he wasn't innocent in the eyes of the universe. Every time he spit out Snivellus through his teeth, every time he thought he should pick on Snape just for fun, all of that was poured right back onto him in Azkaban. He felt the same fear as Snape, the same irritation as Snape, the same humiliation as Snape. He asked himself when will this end? every day, just like Snape did. What goes around, comes around, dude. Punished accordingly.

James. I don't even have to expand his case. 😂 Instant death, as soon as he was out of school. XD And again, from the universe's perspective, it happened indirectly by the hand of Snape, because he was the one who told the prophecy to Voldemort and the rest is history.

There are no accidents.

And as a last fun fact: They died in the exact order of their crime's severity. I close my case.

Thank you for coming to my mental TED talk. ❤

[very-straight-blog]

Imagine that you're the eldest son of a king who was originally born doomed. Your father wanted a son - not you, of course, but another boy - a little perfect baby who died a few days after his birth. It's impossible to compete with the dead, so you'll always be in his shadow, and also in the shadow of your sister, who for some reason was named heir, although the throne is yours by birthright. You feel like you're a stranger in your own family - your mother may love you, but she can't express it, and your father doesn't care about you. You were forced to marry your sister and you never wanted to. Most likely, on your wedding night you were so drunk that you don't remember anything. Your life is a mixture of alcohol and promiscuous sex to somehow fill the hole in your soul, and it's only getting bigger. And then your life suddenly changes - your father dies and your mother says that he decided that you should take the throne. It seems to you that at least for a second your father remembered you, saw his son in you. You become a king and for the first time you have a purpose, a reason to live. You see that the people accept you and this is the kind of love that you have never had. You have a desire to take care of the commoners, you try to be a good king in order to justify their trust and your father's trust, and you also start spending more time with your children, especially with your eldest son, who looks so much like you. It seems to you that if you were able to bring something so pure and innocent into this world, perhaps you're not a monster. Maybe you can be a better father than yours was, maybe you can fix everything. And then your son is killed. They cut off his head. Two of your people that you cared about, those people that you thought loved you. It wasn't enough, because they betrayed you anyway. And then, feeling all this anger and pain and despair, you hear your grandfather propose to turn the funeral into an act of propaganda, and your mother agrees with him. No one asks how you are, no one tries to comfort you. You're experiencing loss alone, even though you're surrounded by your relatives. And then you find out that your father never wanted you to be his heir - it was your mother's plan to seize power. Everything was a lie. It was all pointless. They used you, they wanted to control you. As a result, you have lost the most important thing in your life for the throne that you never wanted, and when you are alone, choking with tears in your chambers, your mother sees this and just walks away, leaving you alone, because in the end you're always alone.

[crystalis]

thread by Arnesa Buljušmić-Kustura

Apr 5, 2024

Today marks the anniversary of the Siege of Sarajevo. The “official” start of the Bosnian Genocide.

Almost 4 years of being cut off from the world, from food and water and electricity. 4 years of daily shelling, bombing, and terrorising campaigns of the city and its residents.

Today is a particularly painful day and in the next 6 months, we will have an anniversary after anniversary after anniversary of the various massacres and horrors that were inflicted on us throughout the Bosnian Genocide.

I was just a child when the Siege of Sarajevo started. The peaceful neighbourhood I once played in was suddenly surrounded and shelled daily. Sniper attacks became common place. Every day you heard news of someone being killed. Someone you knew. Someone you loved.

One of my most vivid memories of the Siege of Sarajevo is my great-grandmother. She was a fiery spirit and I was her favourite human. Her heart gave out when she found out her son had died. I always think she would’ve lived another 10 years had there been no genocide.

The residents of Sarajevo were shot at when they’d be collecting water. When they were in line to get bread and aid. When they’d attempt to get to a hospital. In hospitals. In schools. In libraries. There was nowhere that was fully safe.

On a daily basis, the Serb forces would average of approximately 329 shell impacts per day during the course of the siege, with a maximum of 3,777 on 22 July 1993. The city’s streets, homes, buildings, hospitals, govt and historical buildings were all targeted and destroyed.

Over 13,000 people were killed in the Siege, and over 1600 of them were children. Of the estimated 65,000 to 80,000 children in the city, at least 40% had been directly shot at by snipers; 51% had seen someone killed; 39% had seen one or more family members killed…

19% of the children in Sarajevo had witnessed a massacre; 48% had their home occupied by someone else; 73% had their home attacked or shelled; and 89% had lived in underground shelters.

Today, as I reflect on the Siege of Sarajevo…I cannot help but think of the parallels and similarities with the atrocities occurring during the Siege on Gaza. Over 13,000 children had been killed during these past 7 months.

The Siege of Sarajevo resulted in the deaths of two uncles, my godmother who was a Serb and was killed by Serb forces, my grandmother who was killed when she was making breakfast and her home was attacked by Serb forces. My neighbours, my friends, and countless others.

There is not a day in my life in which I do not recall the horrors we endured. There is not a day in my life in which I do not curse those who destroyed my childhood and my innocence. When I was 5 years old, a Serbian sniper shot at me….a child. I survived thanks to my neighbour.

It has been over 30 years since the Siege of Sarajevo started. A 4 year long campaign of terror, genocide, and destruction. The world knew. The world saw. The world stayed quiet. They refused to allow us to defend ourselves. They said that “Bosnia did not belong” in Europe.

Our pain and suffering became an easily exploitable topic for the politicians, journalists, academics to build their careers off of. To this day, many only have a career because of the Bosnian Genocide. Yet, when it was the worst for us…they watched and allowed it to happen.

The Bosnian Genocide did not need to happen. As all genocides, it could have been prevented. & now they tell us to “remember the past” and they say to “never forget” while they allow the same to happen to Palestinians.

I cannot look at the photos coming out of Gaza and not see Sarajevo in it. Their pain is all too similar to our pain. Yet the International Community, once again, seems intent to ensure that the past repeats itself.

& I cannot help but feel that just as much as they believed that “Bosnia did not belong” and therefore allowed the genocide and horrors to continue for 4 long years….they feel the same about Palestine. To them: we “do not belong”. Our deaths are just a bloody stain on their tvs.

So today I spend my day praying for those we lost in the Siege of Sarajevo and throughout the Bosnian Genocide, I will pray that the world wakes up and sees that they are allowing the past to repeat in Palestine.

May we never forget the beautiful souls whose lives were taken and destroyed, in the name of ethnonationalism and fascism. In Sarajevo, throughout Bosnia. In Gaza. Throughout Palestine.

[xanthera]

Apparently people still give Fallout 4 flak for how underdeveloped the Commonwealth is in 2287 compared to the parts of the USA we see in earlier installments in the franchise, and like. I guess that’s valid, it is a pretty stark difference, but I think people forget that the Institute was knowingly and violently sabotaging every attempt to improve the Commonwealth basically from its inception

They sent armed synths to gather resources from the surface and would use deadly force if those resources had already been claimed by settlers. An Institute plant undermined talks between the largest settlements to unite the Commonwealth in a manner similar to the RNC. Scientists had people kidnapped from the surface for their FEV research, and then released the resulting Super Mutants into the Commonwealth when they were done with them, with no regard for who they might hurt

Most damning of all, Kellogg and a small army of synths massacred the entire settlement of University Point because one person found pre-war research data in an old computer system, and the Institute wanted it. They didn’t even know what the data was, they just wanted it because it seemed like it might have been about fusion energy, and they immediately resorted to slaughtering innocent people in order to get it instead of just, you know, asking to look at it. The real kicker is that the research data in question was never about fusion energy, but an energy weapon. It would have been useless to them, and even then, they never even found it. All those people died for nothing, on the Institute’s orders

That’s what the Institute has been doing in the Commonwealth for almost two centuries by the time Fallout 4 takes place. Ruthlessly culling resources, hoarding pre-war research and tech for themselves, and treating the people still living on the surface as subhuman and disposable. That’s why the Commonwealth is so woefully behind in technology and society. It’s by design, because the Institute benefits from the Commonwealth being unable to fight back against their machinations

Anyway, I guess I’m back to defending Fo4. It’s definitely got its flaws, but it does rub me the wrong way when I see bad-faith criticism or “hot takes” that completely ignore the actual canon of the game

[antebunny]

find me in the future

After so many reincarnations and reunions, Wei Wuxian’s soul is so attuned to Lan Zhan’s soul that all it takes for Wei Wuxian to remember his past lives is making eye contact with Lan Zhan. He never remembers a life before the first one where he met Lan Zhan, which is probably for the best. You have to start somewhere. 

Of course, as the centuries fly by and Wei Wuxian collects reincarnations like Pokemon cards (fantastic new invention, he’s finally born in the right century!), it takes longer and longer for him to recalibrate to centuries of memories getting dumped into his previously innocent nine-year-old brain. (Always nine years old. Can’t ever get away). 

This is Wei Wuxian’s excuse for why he doesn’t immediately run to Lan Zhan after making eye contact with him on a crowded street. Well, one of many excuses. There’s also the part where he’s a tiny little nine-year-old orphan (again?!) tossed between the bodies of many, many stampeding adults, all attempting to reach for Lan Zhan. He’s above them, of course; Lan Zhan cultivated to immortality so long ago that now he doesn’t walk, he glides, or floats, or flies. The result is the same: the god-like light-bearing lord appearing before his people, who fall over themselves (and Wei Wuxian) in their eagerness to be blessed by his presence. 

By the time Wei Wuxian struggles to the front of the crowd, Lan Zhan is long gone. 

Okay, so here’s his problem: Wei Wuxian is not immortal. Mo Xuanyu’s body, if it ever possessed the potential to cultivate to immortality (doubtful), had that potential beaten out long before Wei Wuxian came to own it. Unfortunately, back then, he and Lan Zhan, still young and naive (ha, funny what perspective time gives you), truly believed that with enough effort he could succeed where so many had failed. 

Instead, Lan Zhan was forced to watch as his beloved withered, wrinkled and finally grew still while he remained as pristinely young adult as ever. To make matters worse, Jiang Cheng also cultivated to immortality, proving that Wei Wuxian’s original golden core had that capability. The ensuing guilt from both of them–Jiang Cheng for having Wei Wuxian’s core, Lan Zhan for encouraging Wei Wuxian to cultivate to immortality with him–and loneliness as the only two immortals of their generation brought the two of them together, which Wei Wuxian still thinks is kind of cute. They’re like frenemies now, who know how to work with each other instinctively and will defend each other to the death (or a death–no, bad Wei Wuxian, not funny) but still hate each other’s guts. 

Over the centuries Wei Wuxian has been reborn as just about every type of person. Some lived entire lives without ever even hearing of Lan Zhan. Some never learned to write, much less cultivated a golden core, some were widely beloved, some were scorned, and some found their way back to Lan Zhan.

If Wei Wuxian is being completely honest–and he’d never share this brutal honesty with any of his loved ones–those lives are the worst. Inevitably, Wei Wuxian’s new body lacks the capability to cultivate to immortality, and his loved ones who have are all forced to watch for the thousandth time as Wei Wuxian sputters and stalls until his body inevitably gives out and he dies. Old age, Wei Wuxian has come to learn through vast unwanted experience, is an unlucky way to go. No, better to go out in a blaze of glory, for a cause or for a people. The death is temporary and he will be remembered by people who love him. Making his loved ones watch his slow demise when he knows that he will never reach immortality in this lifetime is nothing short of torture.  

Perhaps that’s why it is such a surprise when little nine-year-old Wei Wuxian (Zhang Xinyin, or William Zhang, in this lifetime, he’s Chinese again but he speaks Cantonese now for a total of twelve languages, nice) hunkers down in a quiet little corner of the orphanage and discovers that this body has the highest potential to cultivate to immortality of any body he’s ever had, including his original. 

The practice of cultivation fell out of use many, many centuries ago. Wei Wuxian is on his own for this one. The good news is that he’s an expert at forming a golden core at this point, perhaps more than anyone else in the world. So all Wei Wuxian has to do is find a stable way of life for the next decade or so, which supports a child practicing an esoteric art like his life depends on it, and then he can worry about finding his family.

That is, of course, easier said than done. 

“Will! Hey, Will!” 

Wei Wuxian startles out of meditation (if only Lan Zhan could see him now) when he hears one of his new friends calling his name (well, one of many). He had spread a blue rubber yoga mat out on the green concrete rooftop, hoping to find some peace and quiet wherein he could meditate and nurse that slowly-budding golden core in his chest. 

Freckles, or Ruddy, or Rush, or Chen, pokes his little cherub-like face over the roof edge. (Everyone Wei Wuxian’s age–biological age–looks like a little baby child to him, and everyone in the world seems impossibly young. It helps that he likes kids, and they tend to like him). 

“What troubles you?” Wei Wuxian calls as he stands up.

So the last time he learned English it was quite different, okay? Sue him. He’s relearning it. 

“You’re so weird,” Chen informs him as he picks his way between cracks and loose sand and dust. “Were you meditating again?”

“Yes.” Wei Wuxian pounds a fist to his chest twice. “I will be stronger than anyone. You will see.”

Chen only rolls his eyes. “Okay, Bruce Lee. Anyways. Lynch is asking for you.”

A very nice white lady who is unfortunately named Ms. Lynch came to volunteer at their school to teach. Wei Wuxian likes her, and to his surprise he likes the woman who runs the orphanage too. He’s had a bad run with orphanages in the past but this one is okay. No funding, of course, and understaffed, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t need adult supervision. (Somewhere on a different continent, Jiang Cheng sneezes loudly). 

“Yeah? Whatever for?” Wei Wuxian follows Chen down the ladder and misses Chen rolling his eyes again.

“Dunno, go find out.” 

Wei Wuxian takes a few shortcuts on his way through the school building. He goes to public school, of course, as do all the kids from the orphanage, but Wei Wuxian is their star. A shining example of what orphans can be if they apply themselves. The kids all think he’s weird, which is fair, because he is, but the (other) adults think that Wei Wuxian is a studious little goody-two shoes. The truth is that Wei Wuxian has learned how to solve problems discreetly and how to cause trouble without getting caught. And that he’s only well-adjusted in the sense that he’s had dozens of childhoods; one more isn’t going to mess him up too terribly. 

Ms. Lynch is poking around her computer (absolutely amazing new invention, Wei Wuxian was definitely reborn in the right century) when Wei Wuxian skids to a stop by her desk. 

“Hello, Ms. Lynch.” Wei Wuxian beams in a way that he knows she loves. “Chen said you were asking for me?”

Ms. Lynch closes out of a few tabs and turns in her swivel chair (another great new invention), brushing straw brown hair behind thick plastic glasses. “Yes, I heard that you have been trying to learn cultivation all by yourself, can I ask what sparked your interest?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “It seemed interesting.” He really wants to become immortal this lifetime in order to save people who he cares about deeply a lot of grief. “It’s fun.” 

“I see.” Ms. Lynch clearly isn’t satisfied with this answer, but she nods and smiles all the same. “You know, I wrote about the ancient practices of cultivation for my senior thesis, and it’s quite dangerous to do without supervision. Have you considered joining a class?”

“Uh.” Well, actually, Wei Wuxian could teach that class better than probably anyone else in the world, except maybe for Jiang Yanli, but it’s irrelevant because he certainly doesn’t have the money to afford it. “Noooo?”

“Hm.” Ms. Lynch smiles again, in a gently disapproving kind of way. “Well, I know that they can be expensive and quite a hassle, but I just wanted to make sure that you aren’t taking anything you learn from the internet about it too seriously. A lot of it is misleading and you can really harm yourself.”

Wei Wuxian is fighting for his life on the Wikipedia pages for cultivation. First, because he’d hoped that leaving some kind of coded message there could catch the attention of someone in his family and lead to them finding him. When that didn’t work, Wei Wuxian started combating misinformation (a losing battle) while having the reputation of that Wikipedia editor who put random gibberish in for fun. 

“Oh, I’m not,” Wei Wuxian chirps. “It’s all for fun, Ms. Lynch. I promise I’m not doing anything dangerous.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Ms. Lynch says, mostly sincerely. “I don’t mean to discourage you. It’s wonderful to see you taking an interest. Most kids your age have no interest in stuff like that.”

What she means is that cultivation is the ancestral practice and cultural heritage of his people. Because Wei Wuxian was born into the right social group: there are maybe a couple hundred thousand of his people spread across the globe, in little diaspora communities with varying levels of wider acceptance. Wei Wuxian’s family–the ones who have cultivated to immortality–are their leaders. Mysterious, reclusive figures who almost never interact with outsiders yet are beloved within their communities for how steadfastly they’ve protected them over the centuries. A lot of people outside the community think they’re a cult, which is probably fair, all things considered. 

It’s funny. Wei Wuxian has never been closer and yet never felt further from his family than this lifetime. A real chance of cultivating to immortality, a place in the only group of people with access to the famed (or rumored) immortals, and his reputation has never been better; his people celebrate his birthday every year (or they celebrate the excuse to party, same difference) and pray for his reincarnation. Yet if he–William Zhang–claimed to be the legendary Wei Wuxian’s reincarnation, no one would believe him. They’d ignore him as a loud-mouthed kid, at best. At worst, well, Wei Wuxian isn’t going to test that. In no situation would they–the community leaders–reach out to the immortals on his word. 

Instead, Wei Wuxian slinks back to the bedroom he shares with Chen and two other boys (he doesn’t miss being a girl, but damn could they keep a room clean) and wonders if Sizhui has gotten Lan Zhan an iPhone yet.

Maybe it’s for the best, Wei Wuxian tells himself. Reuniting with his family while in the body of a child will be awkward. Especially with Lan Zhan, who has been attracted to Wei Wuxian in whatever body they reunited in but is obviously not attracted to children. Wei Wuxian is not looking forward to spending years lusting after his own damn husband while Lan Zhan can only see a child. Yes, it’s definitely for the best.

Even if Wei Wuxian is terribly lonely. 

So the years pass. Wei Wuxian cultivates a golden core, gobbles up modern slang like he was born for it, learns how to code in Python, and enters high school with an end goal: immortality by age twenty-four. The current record-holder is Wen Qing, who cultivated to immortality at the ripe old age of twenty-five, the lucky bastard. She reincarnated in the 1500s into the perfect set of circumstances: a second-eldest son of a wealthy family who practiced cultivation. Her family patriarch was one of the community elders who semi-regularly communicated with the immortal cultivators. The year when Wen Qing was brought along for the first time, Wen Ning took one look at her and said “jiejie” and that was that.

Obviously, Wei Wuxian has to beat her record. 

Some of them choose to forget.

Over the centuries Wei Wuxian and the others have encountered countless reincarnations of people they knew from their original lives. (And important people from future lives too, but those were never quite the same. There’s something about their original lives that always sang like an unfinished symphony, an epic story not yet fully written, even though Wei Wuxian lived a full life). Sometimes the choice is made for them not to help them remember. Such was the case for a reincarnation of Jin Guangyao, found in 556 B.C. by Wen Ning and Sizhui. Sometimes they choose to move on, like the reincarnation of Jiang Fengmian found by Jiang Yanli. They leave him alone nowadays, whenever they find him. His soul is not so attuned to anyone else’s as to have the strike of realization that hit Wei Wuxian on that crowded street. 

The worst is when they reunite, live happily, and still choose to say goodbye. Nie Huaisang reincarnated in Italy, dragged Wei Wuxian off to France to learn Impressionist painting, and still chose to reenter the reincarnation cycle. Wei Wuxian, whose body that decade could not even form a golden core, simply could not understand Nie Huaisang’s unwillingness to cultivate to immortality. He still doesn’t. 

Humans have orbited the moon. For that alone, it is worth it. He only wishes all humans could feel how far they’ve come.   

Even those that chose to become immortal have retreated from the world. So many lifetimes, so many childhoods, so many parents and lovers and children–it’s impossible to care equally forever. The world feels so much larger when you have been an Egyptian farmer during the reign of Cleopatra, to whom the pyramids were ancient history, and one of the slaves who built them, and a Finnish soldier who fought on skis against invading Russians in 1939. In the face of such grandness, how can one tiny community, one family, one person matter?

It’s a blessing and a curse. Wei Wuxian has had good parents and bad parents and everything in between until he finally figured out how it works. He’s grown up in enough families with pet dogs that he’s lost his fear of them. On the other hand, he has had so many friends in so very many forms that he struggles to convince himself they truly matter. They’ll all be dead within the century, anyways. 

Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng have the opposite problem. They only have one life, the original, to remember, even as that life’s length stretches far past the boundaries of a normal human lifespan. Their main link to the world, Wei Wuxian knows, is him. Sizhui and Jin Ling drag them out for enrichment exercises, and Jiang Yanli can usually get her way if she sets her mind to it, but it’s still guilt over Wei Wuxian’s second life as Mo Xuanyu that keeps them here. 

The 21st century slams in, a rush of technicolor and lightspeed and skyscrapers (and like all centuries, war, disease and death). The tale of the Yiling Patriarch vastly outstrips the size and weight of Yiling. The Burial Mounds are a nice forest now. Hundreds of thousands of people hope for his return. And still Wei Wuxian cannot manage a single immortality-sized golden core. 

The opportunity sneaks up on Wei Wuxian. Shamefully, he needs the obvious spelled out before he can see it. 

“You going to the cultivation tournament?” 

Wei Wuxian was actually studying calculus. Seriously, it’s crazy how much people have proven about math since the last time he–wait, cultivation?

When Wei Wuxian digs his nose out of his textbook, Ian is smirking at him, and Chen is blinking innocently. Ian slouches over the library table so he can push the textbook shut.

“Eh, probably not worth it,” Wei Wuxian dismisses. He’s not learning cultivation so he can dunk on some kids who only learning cultivating without the cultivation. 

“You sure?” Chen butts in, now smirking too. “I hear winner gets to meet the immortals.”

Ian grins when Wei Wuxian’s mouth falls open. The kid has no idea what’s going on with “the immortals” or cultivation–he’s pretty sure that Ian thinks he and Chen are deep in a religious cult with weird beliefs but normal holidays–but Ian  gleefully abuses the effect it has on Wei Wuxian.

“Sounds made up,” Wei Wuxian says suspiciously.

“No, no, it’s true!” Chen insists. “They hold it every twenty-five years. Or they say they will. They haven’t done this before.” 

It’s very hard to get very old immortals to do something new. What changed? 

The answer smacks Wei Wuxian in the face as Chen pulls out his phone and shows an official-looking announcement, shared around their community, to Wei Wuxian. It’s the internet. Previously, Wei Wuxian lived entire lives without ever hearing of cultivation. Now, anyone with an internet connection will probably run into the term at least once. Now, Wei Wuxian’s family can reach out, through screens and cables and the casual interest of millions, to him.

They’re doing this for him.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t read Wikipedia articles. Lan Zhan regresses into a fugue state whenever Wei Wuxian’s not around. Maybe Wen Qing had the idea, maybe Sizhui put it together. Because they’re still reaching out, still waiting for Wei Wuxian to come home. 

This is his chance. 

[inukag-archive]

Do you happen to have recommendations for stories where Kagome is feeling insecure about Kikyo and InuYasha comforts/reassures her?

Hello @serafeen - one Insecure Kagome fic rec list coming up! We aimed to give a good mix of long and short stories, but either way prepare to have some feelings felt.

Moonlight Reflection by tigerjade (K+)

[COMPLETE] Kagome has a dream about Kikyo and Inuyasha and doubts arise. She runs off in the night to be alone. Inuyasha suspects something is wrong and follows her, something that Kagome doesn't need, but Inuyasha is determined.

--

Darkest Before The Dawn by LunaKat (T)

A bad dream leaves Kagome shaken about deserving her happy future. Inuyasha reassures her of her place by his side.

--

Slipping by paynesgrey (E)

Kagome feels that her relationship with Inuyasha is slipping, even more so with Kikyou's frequent visits. She makes her fears known, and Inuyasha makes a move to reassure her.

--

Requiem by dolphingirl0113 (T)

[Oneshot] Inuyasha, what am I to you? Will you ever be able to see me without thinking of her? If Kikyou hadn't died, who would your heart have chosen?

--

When He Won't Say by Almandine-Azaleea (T)

An innocent mistake leads to a heart to heart between Inuyasha and Kagome.

--

To Walk A Mile In Her Shoes by Kanna37 (M)

Inuyasha runs off to Kikyou again, which results in another fight when he finally gets back - but this time, someone else is listening in, and decides to take things into her own hands. 

--

Weight Watcher by @clearwillow (T)

All it takes is one comment to completely wreck a girl's self-image. Sometimes it can take years to shake that comment and move on. For Kagome, help comes in the form of a foul-mouthed hanyou who tells it like it is... in about five minutes. Slight InuKag fluff. Set after episode 140.

--

Not Good Enough by Wolf Blossom (T)

Kagome sees Inuyasha and Kikyo and decides that perhaps there is no room for her in Feudal Japan. [ONESHOT]

--

The Deception by @fandomobsessions016 (E)

Kagome and Sango have just graduated college, and Kagome is set to return home… to the city. The city she left behind four years earlier. Almost as soon as she arrives and is unceremoniously reacquainted with her ex, Kagome realizes she’s made a mistake. Four years of distance and alleged personal growth have done nothing to tame her tumultuous heart or lessen her pain. Now, she has to confront her agonizing past while traversing through a myriad of emotions as she comes face to face with the very people she left the city to avoid; Inuyasha and Miroku. Thankfully, she has Sango by her side, as not all is as it seems…

--

The Warlord's Tribute by @omgitscharlie (E)

With a kingdom built upon the blood of his enemies, Inuyasha is the leader of the Taisho Clan. A vicious warlord who scours the lands for power and has made a name for himself amongst his rivals. Even as a hanyou, he is revered and looked upon as a king amongst the neighboring villages. Elders near and far come to give their offerings, one of them bringing a young woman with a fiery spirit. Another beauty to add to his ever-growing harem of women. Little does he know, she is more than he bargained for.

--

Behind The Silk Screen by @Eiennobasho (E)

When a twist of fate brings the common-born priestess Kagome to serve Inuyasha, Divine Emperor of Japan, will she be able to help him claim his place on the throne and bring order to their country? Or will court intrigues and their own burgeoning feelings tear the two and their nation apart? A historical romance set in Japan’s Heian Era.

--

Restless Emotions by EmberFalcon (T)

What would happen if Kagome couldn't take the pain? What would happen if Inuyasha actually HAD to choose who he loves more

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Unexpected Destiny by @splendentgoddess (M)

After defeating their most dreaded enemy and purifying the jewel, Kagome discovers she's trapped in the past. Afraid now that Inuyasha only sees her as a substitute for Kikyou, can he get her to see what's been in his heart all along?

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Wish For Me by Vesper_ness (M)

Everyone's aware of Kagome's feelings for Inuyasha. What everyone's not aware of is how emotionally invested she is and that the one thing she longs for is Inuyasha's happiness. That wish will be her biggest test of strength. A one-shot on how Kagome deals with Inuyasha's feelings for Kikyou after he goes to see her.

--

Body Language by Fenikkusuken (M)

Kagome still needs some convincing that Inuyasha doesn't see her as a replacement for Kikyo...Rated M for citrus content

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered.  Check our Submission Guidelines then send us an ask (here).

[scoobydoodean]

omg i just finished your emma vs amy takes and the subsequent discourse about it (which was so refreshing to see btw!! love it when adults can be Adults and argue about the topic without insulting the other person) and I might get fried for this but that incident aside, do you have any other scene/episode in mind where sam reacts the same way or does the same thing?

(im sorry if this isn't your cup of tea for asks! your takes have been Enlightening)

You mean another situation where Sam shoots a person with supernatural abilities who hasn't shed blood and has a sympathetic backstory without giving them a chance? Not as overtly—Benny in season 8's "Citizen Fang" certainly comes to mind, but even Benny, Sam at least made a show of giving a chance by assigning Martin to keep tabs on him and make sure he didn't do anything wrong before trying to kill him. (Though whether there was conscious or subconscious sabotage involved when Sam chose Martin specifically—someone he knew to be mentally unstable—is certainly a good question given Sam had already made death threats about Benny before then.)

The fact that Sam's behavior in 7.13 "Slice Girls" is pretty unique is really what I want to point out about this episode in the first place—that Sam's actions in "Slice Girls" are inconsistent with his previous behavior and future behavior as far as "good" monster episodes. We can turn to examples such as:

1.14 where Sam insists they try and talk Max down instead of killing him, because Max's murders are a result of extensive abuse.

Lenore and her nest in SPN's seminal "monsters can be good" episode (2.03)

Sam thinking Andy is responsible for the killings in 2.05 but still waiting for proof before acting.

2.09 where Sam insists they not kill someone they think might be infected with Croatoan virus before he turns and tries to kill them because that doesn't give him a chance.

Two episodes where Sam faces off against Gordon because Gordon wants to kill him before Sam kills someone (2.10, 3.07)

2.17 where Sam and Dean search for a cure for Madison, who is not aware that she has been killing people.

4.04 Metamorphosis where Sam is the one who takes the initiative to research Rugarus, learns that they can survive without giving into their urges, and insist they go and talk to him about how his body is changing (lol) so he has the chance to fight the urge to kill and eat people.

5.06 where Sam and Dean oppose Cas who wants to kill Jesse, who is a child who is not aware that he has powers and is hurting people.

6.02 where Sam, even soulless, recognizes the innocence of a shifter baby.

Then we have Amy and Emma in 7.03 and 7.13 respectively.

8.04 where the brothers let Kate the Werewolf go because she was turned against her will and killed the man who turned her in self-defense.

8.09 Citizen Fang (already discussed)

I'm getting lazy but then we also have Magda and Jack Kline—both children with powers, one severely abused, the other the son of the devil with uncontrolled explosive powers that could end the world, both of whom Sam attempts to help work with their abilities.

Dean has a more structured series of personal "rules"—a litmus test we see from the very beginning—one Sam often follows as well, but I'm not sure Sam ever really fully grasps that Dean thinks this way.

Has this person hurt or killed anyone?

Was it on purpose or was it outside of their awareness?

If it wasn't on purpose, are they capable of learning to control their urges?

We see this code as early as 1.12 "Faith":

SAM Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy. DEAN Sam the guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book. SAM No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is.

Dean applies the same reasoning in 1.14 with Max:

SAM These visions, this whole time -- I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess -- because we're so alike? DEAN What are you talking about. The dude's nothing like you. SAM Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both... DEAN Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third.

Despite the exact opposite being the typical fandom perception, early on we learn that Sam tends to define a monster by their features/abilities, while Dean defines a monster by their actions. We see the same with Amy—she is "a monster who killed four people" (7.07) . She isn't a monster because of what she is but because of what she did. This again—is also why Dean doesn't even consider killing her son right after her kid swears to kill him one day. We see Dean, in the rare cases where it comes up, is also perfectly fine with taking out human serial killers they stumble across (ex: Thin Man).

Sam will also kill a human serial killer at times (and murderous witches by 3.09), but he reserves the word "monster" to describe individuals with supernatural features/abilities... and I think the fact that Sam's definition of the term differs from Dean's is something neither brother ever fully realizes about the other, leading at several points to arguments where they are talking past each other and do not understand one another. Sam hears "monster" and thinks "Dean is talking about me", when Dean is operating under a completely different definition of the term that is based on the actions of a person.

When Sam is in a headspace where he is thinking of himself as one of those monsters, he shows increased or lessened sympathy in turns. For example, he assumes Andy's guilt in 2.05 because he is panicked about becoming evil himself and is comparing the two of them (but again—still waits for confirmation) but his sympathy for Max in 1.14 comes from the same comparison with himself. Sam completely misrepresents Amy in 7.03 as an addict who relapsed but more generally is "managing", as a way to compare her with himself... when Amy didn't feed on anyone herself and her actions have absolutely nothing to do with addiction or battling "monstrous urges".

I've been bitching and moaning a lot, but I will reemphasize that there is a more sympathetic reason that Sam shoots Emma—Sam and Dean are both crowding up to the diving board at the deep end of the pool in season 7. Dean's grieving and is drinking extremely heavily to cope and Sam is hallucinating. They are both unraveling at the seams. Neither of them is in a place where they trust the other's judgement because they both know themselves and each other to be unstable. So if we imagine a reality where Sam and Dean give Emma a chance, and it doesn't take, Sam assesses himself and Dean to be in no mental state to cope with a potential surprise attack. It's just that Sam also erroneously compares Amy and Emma when they are not the same, and by doing so, frames Dean wanting to spare Emma but killing Amy as hypocrisy (because they are both "monsters") when Dean's actions are perfectly consistent with his personal ethical code and his definition of a "monster"... and Sam's actions aren't.

[torchwood-99]

Jack, An Unnatural Leader

Jack isn't a natural leader, and doesn't like being the leader.

Jack is introduced to the show as a sidekick, and that's how he likes it. One of the reasons why Jack is so devoted to the Doctor is that the Doctor is older than him, wiser than him, more experienced than him.

As an immortal being, Jack is often in the unenviable position of being the most experienced person in the room, making him the most logical choice for leader.

But it's not a role he thrives in, it's not a role he would, at the end of the day, choose for himself. He ends up in charge of Torchwood not because he's the right man for the job, but because he's the last man left, and he's only the last man left because he's the only character that the guy who killed the whole team couldn't kill.

Now, Jack can take charge, especially when in the thick of it. When he's on the space station you see how he commands the room, he's got charisma, he's got battle experience, but he's still under the direction of the Doctor.

In Season 1, the team eventually falls apart under his command. End of Day, the whole team fractures and splinters under his leadership. He's excellent at taking charge in a crisis, in the field of battle, but over a long term period, he flounders.

When he returns after TYTNW, the team has formed a much more supportive, much more cohesive unit. A unit he is a welcome addition to, and they're better for having his experience, his skill, but as a group of people who must depend on each other, who must trust and support each other, they have done better without him.

End of Days, the team's lack of trust in Jack, and Jack's sensitivity towards that lack of trust, is the ultimate downfall. The team don't know who Jack is, they don't know his past, so they can't trust him, so when they get visions of their loved ones making all sorts of promises, his voice, his authority, the trust they have in him, isn't enough to counter the temptations and the warnings those visions give.

Jack keeps his past a secret because he is ashamed of it, and that shame makes him question his own leadership, which is why challenging his secrecy is such a red button for him.

And Jack's past does come back to haunt him, and kill his loved ones. Every time a member of his team (post Suzie) dies, their deaths are wrapped up in Jack's past catching up with him. Gray kills Owen and Suzie, Ianto is killed by the same aliens Jack facilitated trafficking orphans to, and it's Jack's immortality that was used to create the Blessing, which resulted in Esther's death.

When Rhys and Anwen are kidnapped and Gwen demands Jack think on his past and figure out who he's pissed off, she's speaking from experience there, because every person she's loved and lost, she's lost in some ways because of an event in Jack's past.

Whereas Jack was an innocent in Gray's kidnapping, his silence on his brother, his refusal to inform the team who Gray is, to face up to his past with Gray, even after John Hart tells him in KKBB that he's found him, leaves the team sitting ducks to Gray's revenge plot. Maybe being in the know, maybe having a head's up that Jack's missing brother might be back on the scene would have ultimately made no difference, maybe it would have given them the edge they needed to survive, but the odds would have been vastly more in their favour than their not knowing.

In trading children to the 456, Jack was culpable, and there arguably was a cruel karmic force at work that saw the 456 return and take from Jack two of the people he would miss the most, after he gave them the children no one else would miss.

Ironically, Ianto is lost when Jack gives them a speech very similar to the one the Doctor gives in Zero Hour, trying to use his track record and a show of bravado to scare them off, and the result is lots of people die. Jack tries to save the day doing what he believes the Doctor would do, and the result is death.

The Doctor's own moral complexity aside, Jack sees the Doctor as the ultimate force for good, the greatest moral force in the universe, and that's why, for all his skill, charisma and knowledge, Jack wishes to be the Doctor's right hand man, his general, taking charge but taking charge under the Doctor's direction.

When the Doctor isn't around, Jack finds someone else to assign the role of moral force to. Gwen. He brings Gwen on board to "remind them what it is to be human". Gwen has a simple, uncomplicated past, and she comes into the team with a firm sense of right and wrong, one that has yet to be challenged, yet goes on to be so.

Gwen finds herself questioning her own morality and struggling with her sense of right and wrong big time as the season goes on, yet when she takes charge post Jack's disappearance, we see she not only manages to hold the team together, but make them stronger as a force.

Come COE, Gwen's the one to come up with the shoplifting plan, and most crucially, she's the one to make a connection with Lois Habiba, she forges a connection with Lois, makes the call to trust Lois, and wins her trust to the extent that Lois is willing to risk everything to help the team. Help without which Torchwood, and the world, would have been screwed.

Miracle Day comes, and Jack and Rex are about to make the ultimate sacrifice, only for Esther to get shot, and then Jack falters, and doesn't know what to do, whether or not to go ahead with the plan or abort and try to save Esther.

It's Gwen who says go ahead, it's Gwen who says there's going to be a cost, but it has to be done, it's Gwen who says the things Rex needs to hear to move forward with the plan.

Gwen is a natural leader in a way that Jack is not, yet Gwen's story does not lack in moral failures and challenges. What is it that has Gwen manage to trust her moral judgement, to continue to make connections based on trust, when Jack struggles?

Aside from perhaps an inner confidence, and the benefit of not having experienced literal hundreds years worth of trauma and losses, Gwen too had a figure she looked up to as a greater being. Gwen too had a Doctor, and it was Jack.

Whereas Jack was only with the Doctor for short bursts of time, time that generally vindicated Jack's view of the Doctor (which we can partially thank Doctor Who being a family show for), Gwen works with Jack for long periods of time, and she has a front row seat to his flaws and his failures, as well as his successes. And right from the start, Gwen regularly challenges Jack's moral choices, so in time, whereas Jack never quite shakes his idealisation of the Doctor, Gwen has a much more nuanced and critical view of Jack.

Jack never stops believing that no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he tries to be a good leader, there's still someone out there better, more moral, more worthy, than him to lead.

Gwen however, despite her own flaws, of which she knows she has plenty of, swiftly learns that actually, no one is the perfect leader, and actually, sometimes she really is the best person to be in control of things.

Gwen trusts herself in a way Jack doesn't, Gwen trusts her right to lead in a way Jack doesn't, and so people trust Gwen in a way they don't trust Jack. And this creates a self-fulfilling prophecy, with Gwen's trust and Jack's distrust being vindicated.