#with the express purpose of using it for evil

[tiredspacedragon]

Why is there an exit to the Test of Trust on the 777 Stairs?

Like in theory I really like the idea of that room; a group enters, and each member is trapped in an inescapable cylinder adorned only with a single latch. A recorded voice informs the group that if each individual lifts the latch at the same time, they all may pass, but if one betrays the others and lifts their latch first, they will go free and their companions will perish. However, this is a trick, and if one of the group does attempt to betray the rest, they are all judged unworthy and dropped into a pool of water that will slowly heat and boil them alive.

The specifics don't mean much, but the concept is solid. Judge the character of the team by their ability to work together and prioritize the group over personal gain. If one is willing to sell the others out, they certainly don't deserve to continue and the rest are likely no better, so they all die. Fair enough. A little extreme perhaps, but this is a safety feature on the path to the most powerful item in the universe, which has complete power over life itself, so I'd say it's fair.

So why the heck is there a tunnel out of that boiling pit? One that was clearly put there intentionally since it contains doors that shut behind any who pass through it to prevent them from turning back. If the point of that chamber is to determine who is worthy to continue on to the Ignika, why is there a way out for people who fail the challenge? One that leaves them closer to the mask instead of spitting them out somewhere else far away from the stairs? The test of character is completely moot at that point because it's actually more beneficial to fail the challenge, because it lets the group completely bypass the next chamber they would have entered normally, which was presumably Umbra's room! It's just a cheat code to get around the strongest guardian!

So is that the point? Is it not a test of character, but instead a test of intelligence and craftiness? If so, it's a piss poor one, because you can't judge someone's puzzle-solving skills if they aren't aware there's a puzzle they're supposed to be solving. Plus what would it matter if those who passed it were clever if they've already proven they can't be trusted and are thus completely undeserving of the limitless power they're trying to get their hands on? And if it is a test of character, it's also useless, because the stairs have an automatic system that detects the intentions of those who descend them anyway! That's why the Inika and the Piraka faced different challenges on the way down, the Toa got the heroic path with the Chamber of Death, which actually is a solid test since it demands the same thing the Ignika itself will, while the Piraka got the villainous path and the trust test instead.

So like, if you already have a system installed that can sense the intentions of those coming to claim the mask, why isn't the path that opens to those with nefarious intent not an instakill? Why is there a way for them to succeed at all when they're the last kind of people who should? And more importantly, why is it the easier path?

[carlottastudios]

Every day I get closer to making an unhinged behemoth of a post listing all of the things about Kaeya and his possible connections to mythology & stuff that I notice but NOBODY ELSE SEEMS TO BRING UP IN THEIR THEORIES

(edit: OMG I reached the tag limit I'm so sorry)

[hcguesstheauthormessageboard]

DON’T FORGET TO FRONT-DATE YOUR FICS!!!

now, you might be asking, “tizona, what does that even mean???”

well, i’m here to help you with that!!

FRONT-DATING is when you change the internal date of when your fic was posted in order for it to show up when someone searches for the most recent fics.

generally, this is looked down upon because people that do this frequently are hoarding the top slots of a fandom or tag’s page in order to get more views.

HOWEVER, front-dating is really important if you are participating in events that involve UNREVEALED works.

why?

when you add a fic to a collection that’s UNREVEALED, the internal date of your fic will be the date you posted it, NOT the date it was revealed. this means that when all the fics get revealed, your fic will NOT show up in the fandom(s) or tag listings because ao3 thinks you posted your fic a While Ago.

so, in order to combat this, we have to front-date our fics to the most recent day. due to the fact that you can’t front-date to the future, you’ll have to wait until the final day, or until everything’s revealed.

okay, how?

great question!

first, you’re going to want to navigate to your fic and click on the handy edit button. you won’t be able to find your fic on your profile since it’s anonymous currently, so you’re going to have to navigate to the collection and scroll till you find your fic. THEN click edit.

next! you want to scroll down past the tags section, past the preface section, and all the way to the ASSOCIATIONS section. (that’s the third section, and where you typically set the language and skin)

once you’re there, scroll down ALMOST to the bottom of that section. there will be a button that says “set a different publication date” right above where you set the language.

click on that checkbox!!! there should be a drop-down for you to select a day, month, and year. set it to the most current date—AKA TODAY! (or you can wait all the way up until THE DEADLINE)

once again, ao3 does not allow you to front-date into the future, so the farthest you can go is the present. (it does, however, let you BACK-date as far as you please. that’s not what we’re doing here, though.)

once you’ve front-dated your fic, scroll ALL THE WAY DOWN and click post! that will save your changes :)

and success!! you have front-dated your fic!

(tagging @hermitcraftguesstheauthorevent in case they don’t already have a post about this)

[femmefaggot]

see spite likes making people worry

[piedoesnotequalpi]

Recently in text messages I have sent and received

(also if anyone wants to help me with my shoe dilemma that would be much appreciated due to me currently overthinking everything)

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men If You Turn Evil

AN: istg I keep getting all these ideas while working out 💗

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: DRAMA

Summary: after eons of nurturing the world with fragments of your heart, you learn the truth. Every death, every rebirth, burns in your heart. And now you want to burn the world.

(I do not own these characters)

Rafayel:

He looks at the destruction around him, the fragments of a broken city, the wrath in your eyes.

You pace the room, your steps unyielding to the passage of time.

He has been awake with you for countless nights, his ears filled with the cries of his kin, burning, drowning in the boiling seas.

He tugs at your arm, pulling you into his embrace, his fingers threading through your hair.

"Why can I not be at peace?" you whisper, cupping his cheek. "All our enemies have fallen, but why is there no relief? Who else must I seek to bring us justice?"

"It is my fault... I should have prevented this," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I should have never allowed it to come to be."

To watch you fall was his fall. To witness beauty drain from you was his failure. He has you back, but at what cost?

"But I will make things right," he whispers, pulling you closer.

"No more pain."

A gasp tears from your lips as his dagger pierces your back.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt, your blood soaking into his hand. "How dare you…" you seethe, your rage flickering even as your strength wanes. "I should have—"

Blood gurgles in your throat as he pulls your head against his chest, his shoulders trembling.

He would rather bear your hatred than lose your soul.

The cries of the world fade as a new one begins to take shape.

But all he can hear now are his own ragged sobs as he holds your cooling body.

Xavier:

"You have lost your mind!" Xavier’s voice is sharp, his fury barely masking the horror in his eyes.

He looks down from the castle walls, your castle now. Below, corpses rot on pikes, writhing with maggots.

Philos will never come to be. The world has already shifted on its axis.

You pin him to the wall, leaning him over the edge. "You will not talk to me like that, Xavier." Your voice is quiet, but the weight behind it is absolute. "This is my world. I may do as I please. It would do you good to listen, to stay as my consort, not the crown prince of Philos."

His breath hitches as he stares at you, searching for something, hesitation, remorse, restraint.

But you are resolute.

Your eyes soften at his distraught expression. Gently, you pull him back from the edge and release your grip. "Do not let this drive a wedge between us. I do not wish to lose you...I’ve only just remembered you." You press a kiss to his lips, warm, fleeting, achingly tender.

"This is merely a necessary cleansing," you murmur, as if explaining the weather. "A precaution, so the world understands the new order. So all who bled me for ages finally know what it means to bleed."

And so, bound by love, Xavier became a puppet to your wishes.

He waited for the new world you promised, sought desperately for the salve to soothe the wounds your changing forms left in him.

With time, he learned to ignore the mangled bodies outside the capital. The sunken faces beyond the castle walls.

He learned to be happy.

Zayne:

He never stands idle.

Not even at the first signs of your fall. Not even when the shadows lengthen, and the world begins to crumble at your feet.

He does everything he can to undo the damage.

He is a doctor, ridding people of pain is his purpose.

He funds revolutions, smuggles food and medicine, seeks to turn your heart away from vengeance.

But he does not leave you.

Not when you’re hurting. Not when the weight of the world fractures your soul. He stays, doing all he can to hold the world together before it collapses entirely.

For the first time in years, he prays to Astra.

He begs his god to aid the world.

Until you find his secrets. Until you strip him of the power you once gave him.

You lock him away in a tower, bound to you. And then...then, true helplessness sets in.

He watches his betrayal fuel your madness. Watches as your fury, once directed at tyrants, turns upon the innocent.

In the frozen chamber, you loom over him, his knees pinned to the ground by the weight of your power.

"Do you wish to leave me, Zayne?" Your fingers tilt his chin upward, forcing him to meet your crazed gaze. "Tell me, do you wish to escape?"

He does not flinch. His neck is littered with the climbing scars of his evol, of his futile resistance. It is all a proof of the turmoil within you, that settles upon his skin. He knows it better than any.

"No." His voice is steady. Resolute. "I wish to stay next to you."

He means it. Earnestly.

Even if your presence comes at this cost, he is willing to pay.

He has never wished to abandon you.

Not even at the cost of himself.

Sylus:

You are his moral compass.

So when you fall, he falls with you.

There is nothing to stop you both.

His days are spent treasuring the reality of having you back, of having your love.

And if the cost is the world, then let it burn.

The core in his eye revels in the doom. It rejoices in the love that blooms within you, in the hunger that consumes you both.

It is fulfilled.

He is fulfilled.

He does not make you ruler of just the Earth, he crowns you sovereign of the universe.

After all, he has always been willing to kill and die for you.

Devoured by your bloodlust, he kneels.

Your consort. Your ruin.

He is content in this fall.

Caleb:

He is your sword.

The day you pledge destruction, he is the hand that pulls the trigger. No questions asked.

He is content, more than content, being the only one to receive your love.

The world had it coming. To condemn you to such pain was their undoing.

He bleeds millions to warm the world that once sought to devour you. He has no mercy for those who cower beneath your gaze.

He has your love.

But why, then, does his heart fall at the sound of your hollow laughter?

Why can he not bring himself to burn the memories of the past?

Why has he kept your hunter’s gear, carefully stored away in his rooms?

He so dearly wishes to keep you pleased. But he knows, this destruction is not born of greed. It is the consequence of centuries of pain.

And no matter how much blood he spills, it will never ease that pain.

No matter how many bodies pile beneath your feet, he cannot bring back your joy.

That was stolen, broken, snatched by those who now rot in unmarked graves.

[cythena]

REVENGE

ꨄ︎ synopsis . now you're cursed it seemed. maybe it was karma for your relentless attempts to fluster giyuu. they worked out in the end but now he's set on messing with you too.

warnings . oral f receiving, breeding, awkward moments for reader, cowgirl, fingering, messy kissing, really chill tbh

word count . 3k words

notes . part two to this post! since i got a request for it i was a little bit stuck on what to do soooo i reversed the roles now giyuu gets to have fun.

he's doing it on purpose. that evil evil man. there was no way he was that aloof. he's completely aware of what he's doing and he's enjoying it. he loves getting back at you for everything you've done to him.

everything he's done was a calculated move in order to provoke you. whether it was innocently masked questions or touches, they were all done with the intent to fluster you. your words would jumble together and cheeks grow hot. all while he kept that stupid stoic expression like he wasn't messing with you.

you're so upset but can't help but enjoy this game he's started. you even started distancing yourself from him a little. whenever meeting with him, you try to avoid giving him any opportunities. yet somehow he always manages.

he still makes your head dizzy. even from your distance you admire him, his strong jaw, smooth skin, sharp nose. he's so handsome you wish this game would end soon. then you could finally get your hands on him again — or at least even the score.

it's not fair fun anymore. giyuu let your hook up get to his head. you were always hyper aware of how he reacted to you. he avoided you but his eyes lingered. with a gaze so intense and heavy, it was impossible for you not to notice. you relished in his attention and used it as fuel to your advantage.

on mission assignments together, it was nearly impossible to avoid each other. giyuu had suffered previously whenever ubuyashiki made the ignorant and cruel decision to partner you two together. it was undeniable how well you worked together combat wise, but other than that it was insufferable.

the bright side of it was how fast missions were completed. the most time was spent walking together and back, then separating to return home.

"y/n," his voice calls for you from the trees in front. his back is turned to you while he sheaths his sword. when he turns to you, you're flicking blood off the metal of yours with a twirl of your hand.

"yes, tomioka?" your melodic voice rings in his ears. he mentally scowls at the use of his last name once again.

you take few steps to move closer to him, keeping your distance still. he closed a decent amount of the distance to stand in front of you. he bends his neck slightly to meet your eyes.

"we'll stay at an inn for the night."

you're not given time to respond before he's walking to way back to the village. you follow him with a short distance between you until you reach the inn.

the inn is a decent sized place, refurbished and well kept. it's clean and a little busy. a few customers are returning to their rooms with buzzed looks on their faces.

giyuu speaks to the receptionist. he's an older man, sweet faced and kind looking. a woman standing next to him looks to be his tired wife. her eyes are shut and she's wobbles a little.

"good evening. you travelers are out quite late," he smiles and leads you to a room. you trail behind giyuu.

his wife holds freshly steamed yukatas which she hands off to you while a drowsy smile. "have a lovely night you two."

the man shuts the door behind you. from the outside you hear the woman speak again.

"what a sweet couple. the man reminds me of you when you were younger."

your ears perk up now. you glance around the room realizing the circumstances. you were give a single room because they assumed you were together. not that you had a problem with it but still. did you two really look like a couple?

giyuu was already settled near a small table. he begins ridding his haori and sword, placing them on the ground neatly. you remove your outer layers too, opting to be mature about the situation if he is as well.

you face the other direction until he calls your name.

"i need your help, my wound requires bandaging."

"oh, i'll be there in a moment," you reply. you turn your back to him once more to finish taking off your sword.

he takes a seat on the table. his legs spread open, his wrist rests on his thigh and his hand hangs. the other arm props the rest of his body up from behind his back. his collar is loosened and stretched from his neck, revealing his adam's apple.

you swallow thickly at the sight. it's almost...arousing.

you brush it off and focus. "where's your injury?"

giyuu's hand reaches from his thigh and tugs from the opening in his collar. somehow he yanks the buttons open in a single motion. he pulls one side of his shirt away from the center and lets it slide off his arm.

a red wound stretches across the side of his lower torso, next to the eye catching muscles of his abdomen. it makes your mouth water on sight — even though it's nothing you haven't seen before.

your face burns and your eyes go wide. it's inexorable. you notice how giyuu's eyes squint as he watches your face reveal your feelings.

"is there a problem?" he asks, keeping eye contact. "are you able to help?"

that little bastard- you think to yourself.

"yes. just give me the bandages?" you mutter. you try to speed up the process as much a possible.

you kneel down between his legs to reach easier. you're eye to abs with him now. pushing the thought out of your head, you wrap the bandages around him.

giyuu smiles while you're focused on his wound. the sight of your head between his thighs is something he's shamelessly fantasized about. suddenly your head shoots up and you catch the coy smile playing at his lips.

you loose your balance and fall backwards onto your ass. he doesn't react, instead slipping the rest of his shirt off. you take this opportunity to hurry back to your side of the room, far away from him and his stupidly defined abs.

you needed a nice break. finding time in your schedules to meet with mitsuri and shinobu was difficult. a free slot in your schedules aligned on the day of a festival in your town. so the three of you planned a date for that evening.

you all dressed in beautiful clothing, a refreshing change from your corps uniform. you wander the stalls together through the bustling crowds. red and orange lights glow and illuminate your faces. mitsuri stops to sample multiple snacks while shinobu admires handmade crafts.

a cat figure catches your eye and you step to the side for a little.

"i'll catch up with you in a moment," you assure them before heading towards the booth.

it's a cute little wooden cat. you pick it up and examine the delicate woodwork.

"i'd like this. how much?"

"eight yen but for a pretty la-"

an arm suddenly extended over your shoulder and offered what looked to be ten to fifteen yen. the owner happily traded the cat for the generous sum. he gave you the cat wrapped in a pretty box.

you turned to thank the kind person. giyuu stood behind you, shadowing you. he also dorned a deep blue yukata.

"tomioka, i didn't expect you to be the festival type," you said. you both stepped away from the stall and continue walking.

"i'm not." he turned his head and gestured to the three familiar boys and young girl. "tanjiro asked me to come."

"and you were just so willing?"

"it's near your house, i hoped to see you."

his words sent heat to your face once again. such romantic words said so stoically. he was doing this on purpose.

"came all the way here in hopes of seeing me?" you tease.

"if you weren't here," he steps closer to you, "i would've went to your house."

"and if i weren't there?"

"i would've waited." where did he learn this from? he's so forward with his words. he returns to his original position and looks off the the side. his gaze lies on nothing i particular as he speaks again, "but kocho mentioned your plans before."

your path takes you towards a quieter part of the festival. it's just as bright but with more seating and open space available. the loud atmosphere is replaced by a relaxed one. the crickets chirping becomes more apparent now.

you're admiring a particularly beautiful latern when your foot catches an uneven stone in the pavement. you lose your balance and in a flurry of movement, fall forward. giyuu reacts swiftly.

his arms reach out and wrap around your waist and pull you close to his chest. your arms smoosh against his body as your heart races.

"i remember you telling me...not to fall for you," you must be crazy because you hear a chuckle in that statement.

giyuu's soft gaze lingers on you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. you push your palms flat against his chest to get off. before beginning to move, your own lips curled into a playful grin.

"it seems it's too late for me," you whisper.

"y/n!" a high pitched voice gasps.

your head whips to see mitsuri and shinobu joining you and giyuu.

shinobu's eyes close as she brings her fingers to stifle her laugh. "my my, i wouldn't have expected tomioka-san to be so close to anyone, let alone, y/n."

"if you and tomioka-san had a date please don't let us interrupt!" mitsuri's face flushed in excitement at the sight of you and giyuu holding each other.

you quickly push yourself off of him and walk over to them.

"no! we don't have a date, it's not what it looks like." your voice is a giveaway to your humiliation. you hide your expression from all three of them to mask your embarrassment.

a few days after the festival, you don't get any interaction with giyuu. no missions or training sessions bring you together. the distance makes you a bit relentless.

you settle down in your yard, admiring the afternoon. a kakushi calls your attention.

"y/n-sama, i have a letter from tomioka-sama," they say with a bow.

curious and pleased to see some interest from giyuu. you walk over over to the kakushi. they hand you a neatly folded up paper. it's the usual template for any giyuu letter. you'd be concerned if it were longer.

"i need to see you. come to my house as soon as you can - giyuu tomioka."

how dry-

you thank the kakushi and walk back into your house. with no pressing matters at the moment, you decide to visit him immediately. the letter seemed somewhat important.

the journey to his house is quick and you find yourself at his door in no time. you knock firmly. there's a brief pause before the door slides open.

giyuu reveals himself shirtless, his toned muscles and faint scars from battles past on full display. the lighting from the oil lamp highlights the contours of his well-defined chest. he uses his elbow against the frame to hold his head up.

"giyuu what the fuck—" it slips out of you.

his fingers spread through strands of his hair as he gazes down at you. "you're here."

"it seemed urgent," you swallow, trying to keep your composure. he moves aside to let you in. "obviously not that urgent. why are you dressed like this?" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"is there a problem?" he asks with innocent in his voice.

"when you have guests over—"

"but it's nothing you haven't seen before."

confidence instills itself in you. "so you're dressed like that because i'm here?"

"isn't it more comfortable this way?"

you roll your eyes, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. “perhaps. comfortable or not, it’s still a bit unexpected.”

he chuckles softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “well, if you’re uncomfortable, i can change.”

the playful glint in his eyes tells you he’s enjoying this moment far more than he’s letting on. you take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

“no, don’t bother. let's just get to why I’m here.”

as you turn, giyuu steps closer, his presence warm and unmistakable. “if you insist,” he says, his voice low and soft.

he closes the distance between you. your back is pressed against a wall. his lips capture yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. the softness and warmth of his touch make your heart race, and you melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the moment. his hands grasp your face delicately, like glass. you layer your hands on top of his.

he's gentle at first. his lips brush against yours with tender and soft motions. the intensity rises as the pressure of his kiss and fingertips increases. the fervor behind them is fueled by passion, desperation, and yearning. your mouth feels like a fire that only he can cool.

you part with a deep inhale, your chest rises and falls while a string connects your lips.

"that's what i'm here for?"

"not all."

he yanks your shirt off and tosses it. his hands reach to undo your belt while keeping your lips interlocked. you skirt falls onto his floor. he's practically salivating at the sight of your body.

he knew he missed it but not this much.

he pulls back to gawk at your bare body, free from anything barriers. he brings his hands to settle in on your hips.

"nuh uh." you shake your head and gesture to his pants.

he reluctantly pulls away from you to shed his pants. he wastes no time before attacking your lips once again. he trails kisses and bites down your neck until he reaches your nipple. he takes one into his mouth while he tweaks the other with his index and thumb. he uses his other hand to slide across your clit, gathering your slick and then sliding between your folds. his tongue swirls the bud and teeth nibble lightly to tease. you hold onto the base of of his head.

"tomioka," you sigh. you're immediately cut off when he bites harder than usual.

"stop that."

you smile to yourself, pleased with riling him up. you lean back against the wall and sigh. you relax into his touch and in what feels like seconds, you feel yourself tighten around his fingers.

"giyuu! h-hah."

he slows fingers, almost halting your peak completely. your eyes shoot open to see him lowering himself to his knees. you could cum just from seeing his eyes looking up at you. he lets his tongue out before his face disappears between your thighs.

your body doubles over. he matches his fingers to the pace of his unrelenting tongue. he greedily slurps up the heavenly taste of your cunt. you feel the smile pressed against your folds.

high squeals are pulled from your throat. he takes your thigh and rests it on his shoulder. both your hands tangle in his hair and push his deeper.

"oh, i'm cu-mming," you whine.

he spreads your cunt to blow cold air that makes you shiver. his nose pressed against your clit now while his tongue dips into your pussy. a swipe of his tongue is enough to tip you over.

your thighs press against his head while he continues to swallow every bit of you he can get. you're forced to push him away from you. his lips and chin are drenched and all he can do it lick around his lips and fingers.

he looks up you with hazy eyes and uneven breathing.

"ride me?"

you nod, still dizzy. giyuu lies back and rests on his elbows. you straddle him and hover over his cock. your palm wraps around the base to guide him into your hole. he steadies himself by grabbing your hips with a hand.

you slowly rock back and forth, gradually moving to a steady bounce. giyuu lets out soft sighs of relief. his adam's apple bobs with each swallow. he helps you bounce with his hand on you.

"mhm- shit," he groans.

you speed up your pace and steal more sounds from him and force them from yourself.

"hah- fuck fuck, feels good." his breathing grows heavier.

you're practically slamming yourself down on his cock. he reaches that spot that has you squealing every time. you squeeze down on him and your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.

giyuu pushes your back down so you're flat on your stomach against him. he bends his knees for leverage and thrusts into you.

your head falls into his neck while you relinquish control. his thrusts are dangerously good. your legs are going weak.

"jus' like that...please, i'm gonna-"

he pulls you away and captures your lips in a deep kiss. he holds the back of your neck.

your pussy contracts around his cock. shivers rack through your whole body and you can't stop. "giyuu!" you sob.

your back arches further into him.

"so pretty." his gasp catches you off guard. you're locked into eye contact with him. he whimpers underneath his breath. "can i- cum?"

you're shocked he's asking for permission. a part of you wants to deny and tease but he's been so good to you.

you start to meet his thrusts which pulls a loud gasp from him. you stroke his cheek with your thumb, teasing just a bit.

"you can cum."

timed perfectly, giyuu spurts his load deep inside of you instantly. he refuses to look anywhere else besides your eyes. he's still rocking your hips onto him when he's done.

slowly, he comes down from his high. you settle down against his chest with his cock still inside you.

"hmm, don't wanna get up," you mumble.

giyuu wraps his arms around you. "don't."

[nightingale-prompts]

Demoted-DCxDP prompt

Another day another hero coming into Danny's space. Danny's R&R pocket dimension has been host to heroes coming and going as they please and at this point he has surrendered to it. The only real issue he has is them asking for help or advice. Sure he's on the level of a multidimensional God but that doesn't mean he actually wants to interfere with the world. He sees the bigger picture and the movements of the universes and knows the full extent of his powers effects on it. Simply put. He helps them in a wrong way and it will mean the aftershocks will ripple across all reality.

Sure it's enough to make a believer to reject all gods when they realize that he has to power to do whatever but chooses not to. But listen Danny is not a god. It's their job to manage their creations. Not his. He didn't make any sentient being.

Still, they come asking for help, and Danny does what little he can/wants to do(which is little). He makes artifacts. Small and useful things to help like a magical gadget to assist them.

He expects payment of course but that another thing.

Right now he was being badgered for advice by...um what's his face? Umm, green guy? The one with the uh...ring. Yeah him not the other green one with the stupid beard. Danny thought he was cool dude. Not like the other one from that other dimension, ugh. He was an edgy asshole, no wonder no one cared when he died. Danny didn't went want him so he booted him into a new dimension and life almost instantly.

Always the green guy was asking for advice about something.

"The red lanterns have their own reason to exist but is that right? To live in hate? Of course, they are evil but if their leader was vanquished could they turn to better purpose?" Hal asked the floating teen who was half listening as he observed the universe from inside his observatory.

Danny sighed as he adjusted his telescope. The view instantly focused on Atrocitus.

"The question is if anger could be put to good use. Atrocitus wants revenge but you seek him and his lanterns to avenge. One is done in vindictiveness and the other in righteous justice. Righteous, anger, justice, resentment, malice, and desire. These are all just words to me created to describe abstract excuses you make for yourselves. Right or wrong it doesn't matter." Danny sighed.

"Right and wrong does matter." Hal frowned.

"Oh, so you are telling me? The way I see it, it a petty concern because rage will always exist. Who are you to say it's wrong Green." Danny laughed at him like he was talking to a child.

"There is a wrong way to express anger. When you hurt innocent people to get your revenge. And there is a fair way to get retribution so that other people do not get hurt. You should only hold those who have done wrong accountable but punishment should be fair. It should be done to prevent more pain. Even if no one is happy with the results you shouldn't torture someone because you are hurt. There is a right way and anger isn't always the answer....but it is a part of healing. I won't condemn them for being angry because I understand where it comes from. But their way as it is now is not the answer."

Danny rolled his eyes.

"Great, so you have your answer. Didn't need me to help you did you?" Danny said shifting the viewfinder again back to his previous task "Seriously, if you need validation on whether you are doing the right thing get a sidekick."

Hal got a weird look in his eyes.

"No way. I'd have to demote myself back to a solid corporeal form." Danny crossed his arms.

"But you are still a kid. A teenager at that. I'll take good care of you and everything. What's wrong with going back to being a human.'

"Half-human." Danny corrected "and stop talking before the other ancients overhear and agree."

"Actually, I agree. You need to stay connected to sentient life while you're still young. And you have been rude lately. I think the lanterns will suit you."

****

Hal:So this is my new sidekick the Grey Lantern.

Danny:*crewing off his fingers to get rid of the fused black and white Lantern ring he has been fused with*

Bruce: Isn't he the god we have been using as a contact?

Diana: Ancient actually.

Barry: I think he's trying to kill himself.

Hal: Don't worry, he can't. His rings unique oath is about forming a cycle of life and death. He can't die or be revived. He's just stressed, like how a parrot plucks it's feathers.

[beforetimes]

transmigrator luo binghe au where he's been an ardent reader of pidw for so long. like from first year in high school to third year in university it's been stretching. and he's fallen in and out of love throughout the years but the one thing that he's never shaken on is that shen qingqiu is probably the most one-sided evil character he's ever read in his life. like it's comical how much bad this guy will get up to but he's so easy to hate.

binghe tragically dies and wakes up as luo binghe, pure little disciple shortly after shen qingqiu's brought him up to the mountain and dumped tea on his head. and if this was the original luo binghe, he would have sat back and taken it and eventually gone batshit nuts as the original intended.

this binghe knows that trying to be nice and do his best doesn't do shit. so he starts engaging in what some would call mild psychological warfare and many verbal sparring matches with shen qingqiu.

this starts with pulling pranks that can't be traced back to him from experience doing such in the modern world with a little sister that ning yingying reminds him of before eventually escalating as he grows older to the kindest, most polite fluffed up words being used exclusively to talk to his shizun with. they both know that binghe absolutely does not mean them. but it's so fun to go back and forth with the scum villain

like, pidw has made a great point of stressing how much of a dick shen qingqiu was but the novel never mentioned how funny he was. a quarter of binghe's verbal repertoire is from catching snags of conversations shen qingqiu has with liu qingge and yue qingyuan and pretty much every other peak lord. there's an art to crafting benign sentences that have insults weaved into them.

now, shen qingqiu, in another version of this world? intensely abusive. not a good guy by a long shot. in this world? his smart mouthed disciple who went from meek and shy to immediately getting on the defensive and hitting back after shen qingqiu dumps tea on his head is more than enough to throw him off from his initial plans.

because, like, he's not sure why he hated luo binghe immediately upon seeing him. maybe because luo binghe reminds him of himself but acts so damn weak that it drives him to lash out. but this one bites back, has teeth and uses them, refuses to give an inch and can honestly stand up well enough. it's intriguing, sue him! almost every single other disciple on this mountain is too scared to speak to him with any degree of familiarity, while luo binghe acts as though there's no real social conventions between them while very carefully pretending to adhere to them.

like shen qingqiu has picked up on the fact that it's definitely on purpose that luo binghe is polite in class but only makes needling little remarks like "this one apologizes for the subpar performance, begging shizun's forgiveness. the composition of the piece is unique and this one only knows how to play more conventional pleasant melodies expertly." outside of class and away from anyone he could lose face around. longest way to call shen qingqiu's sheet music dogshit that he's ever heard. it's almost funny

but, at the same time—so disrespectful! he has to punish him somehow. laps hardly work because luo binghe is a physical cultivator and actually quite benefits from the exercise which is the last thing he wants to do. and writing essays also doesn't work because luo binghe just squeezes in more little asides like "this one has reflected on his actions and expresses guilt should it please shizun" and "this disciple was stupid for the assumption that the scholarly peak would appreciate my current language, in the future this one will persevere to wield shizun's teachings to the best of my ability."

so, next best thing; shen qingqiu makes luo binghe act as his personal hand. making dishes, cleaning the home, basically treating him like a de facto servant in all but name. luo binghe is more than used to the amount of chores he gets assigned during to living on his own during university and finds it almost? relaxing!

but the proximity to shen qingqiu leads to luo binghe getting a far different view of the man than he's ever read or seen yet: a human one.

which, like, luo binghe wasn't under the impression that every single person he met in this world would remain two dimensional book characters but he wasn't expecting to see it happen with shen qingqiu. there's a world of difference in seeing shen qingqiu during an argument with yue qingyuan and seeing the immediate aftermath, mask of a face stuttering to reveal a deeply troubled expression before he's wearing that infuriating—manufactured?—ice cold demeanour again. and making breakfast in the morning just to see how long it takes for shen qingqiu to come outside of his room, reminding him far too much of his old roommates depressive episodes where he's left laying in bed until duty drags him out. and he notices how no one visits and shen qingqiu is almost always alone and when peak lords do visit it's to needle at him or start fights or official business and nothing much inbetween. and luo binghe knows it's not an excuse to abuse him but he hasn't been whipped yet and everything bad that's happened so far hasn't been that bad at all. so now he's stuck with this realization that shen qingqiu is real and he's going to be here for a long few years. wouldn't it be in his best interest to try and make things more bearable for himself by making shen qingqiu a bit happier?

which. he doesn't know how to do that. so he tries a bit of everything. a lot of his ideas don't work and inspire more ire in shen qingqiu than he was expecting. so luo binghe decides to try being on his best behaviour. the picture of a perfect disciple when they go out on a trip down the mountain to deal with disappearances and a possible demon.

shen qingqiu is probably the most annoyed he's ever been then. snapping at him more, barking commands, insulting him to his face in front of the juniors he's brought along, because for some reason, luo binghe is the only disciple who isn't new and fresh who's been brought along for this trip.

everything to do with the skinner demon sucks. luo binghe always feels some sort of amusement or annoyance when it comes to shen qingqiu's jabs but he actually feels hurt this time. getting captured is the last straw—the trip up the mountain is dead silent and shen qingqiu lays into him unlike before behind closed doors, a few comments about false faces and idiotic attempts to manipulate thrown in there. and luo binghe is 100% expecting to get whipped for this before shen qingqiu just. tells him he'll be confined to the side room in the bamboo house until the morning. and nothing else.

luo binghe doesn't try to test his luck: he shuts his disciple ass up and listens. and wakes up the next morning to greet shen qingqiu with a tea and a mild comment about undue stress to the vocal cords leading to ailments and won't he try this honeyed tea he liked as a small child because (this he doesn't say out loud) it feels fitting for the situation? and shen qingqiu is stiff shouldered until this comment and they both continue onwards as though the mission never happened.

and etc etc etc. i will expand on this later trust. but if you want anything specific elaborated on just shoot me an ask :^)

[cloudnineminusnine]

MDNI

you got a kicked-puppy-like caleb resting his head on your lap and he just won't let you concentrate on answering any of your messages in peace, he keeps sighing loud on purpose while pouting nonstop as he side-eyes you, behaving like a brat until he finally got to your nerves. yes, you know exactly what this menace is trying to get from you and, well, after a brief negotiation with him you settle that it would only be permitted if it's under your terms, which are simply: no hands allowed. while ruffling his soft locks you gradually let your thighs go separate ways causing him to lift his chin off your knee in anticipation, almost drooling himself like the loser he is once he locks his gaze with your tiny baby blue panties which the frilly bar of your mini skirt is exposing provocatively as it's fabric rolls up your opened legs. like you presumed, that little prick that was pestering you a few seconds ago left as soon as you agreed on letting him eat you out.

you shouldn't just take advantage of his submissive behavior so deliberately but that's what you're gonna do, after all, that's what he deserves after leaving your cunt so sore that it feels like he's still thumping deep inside you, each pulsating vein and the curve of his cock precisely memorized by your swollen aching hole. that serves him right! — even though you were the one who provoked caleb until his possessiveness consumed him entirely to the point of fucking you into a mess of nonstop moaning and crying.

of course, you tried to keep your cool by pretending not to be affected by neither his hoarse sexy groaning nor the heaviness of caleb's hips rutting against your feet so that you'd be aware of his growing erection, doing your best to keep yourself as composed as possible, but your stupid spoiled pussy is just so honest that it can't keep up with your evil plan, leaking excitedly once he pokes your core through the cotton fabric, slowly dragging his nose over the valley in between the restrained lips. he's getting kinky and it takes you everything not to go dumb with horniness when he deeply inhales your still covered sex, almost howling at the mouth-watering scent.

you wish the way you instinctively grinded your hips against his pretty face could pass unnoticed but unfortunately it bumped not so softly into his nose's tip — his ridiculous smug expression causing a shy tear of pleasure to run down between your pussy lips, staining your panties even more, leaking through the weave of the light fabric.

an audible snort leaves caleb lips and those lilac joyful eyes are suddenly glued to your face, he seems to be more than amused by your reactions and seeing your brows furrowing in pleasure as you bit down on your bottom lip to keep any beautiful sounds that could escape you only fueled his neverending fire, you're so pretty that it makes him sick. while he obediently keeps both wrists tied by a imaginary knot behind his back, his mouth leaves open mouthed wet kisses all over your groin, taking time to spread the warmth of his gentle lips all over. with your terms still ruling poor caleb, unable to use his hands, drags the tip of his tongue alongside the elastic of your panties in a attempt to push it out of his way, moaning against your wet skin once his tastebuds catch a sample of the abundant slick, the more he tries to set you free the more he gets distracted by your taste satiating his lustful thirst, fuck, at this point the thin blueish piece of cotton is all drenched in both your fluids and his saliva while he pathetically makes out with your barely dressed pussy, the tight elastic constantly rubbing right in the middle of the puffy folds, stimulating your aching clit in a delirious way.

a round of shivers ripples through your heated body, it's delightfulness concentrating around the aureolas of your perky nipples, and both your hands drown into his brownish hair, at first smashing his face into your drooling starving pussy, letting him have his way, french-kissing the hell out of your cunt, then pulling him away right when he starts to tongue-fuck you, it is too much, you cannot hide a frustrated moan, caleb is a threat even with no help of his skilled hands, the irises gleaming in a feral hunger combinated with the way he stick his tongue out trying to get to your hole once again lure you into giving up on your sadistic little plan, he's being such a good boy that you must allow him to make the best use of those long rough fingers, but not only that, you make it clear that he can use your pussy to get rid of his pent up frustration — which you collaborated — as long as nothing more than the reddish leaky tip of his dewy pulsating hadrness slips inside, promising to let him take your soaked baby blue panty as a prize if he can do exactly as told.

[renshengs]

beyond evil (2021) occupies a very interesting space in the larger expanse of crime shows. like, it is a Cop Show. it is undeniably a Cop Show even if the two main characters, who are both cops for very different reasons, are handled with significantly greater awareness and intention than usual.

it is also, impressively, a show that pierces the real ugly rot of 1) police corruption and its overlap with capitalism 2) atrocious real-life lawmaking 3) the poor handling of femicide in stories. i cannot express how abruptly shocked i was to discover that i did not hate the way this show was carrying itself, despite its crime drama genre, narrative about two homoerotic cops, and its murder mystery premise featuring a plot about a serial killer with solely female victims. here is a story that understands its purpose and is so clear-eyed about it that i did in fact tentatively suspend all my wariness about Cop Shows to watch it—and what i got was a scathing response to every serial killer and true crime documentary out there. a narrative that said: enough. enough. look at the way grief rots people from the inside out. look at the way loss ruins lives. do not forget the sufferings of the innocent.

far too many crime dramas possess an incredibly dehumanizing analytical tone to them that goes, “what if these poor women died in brutal gruesome tragic ways? anyway, look at these men and their heroic journey for justice!” it’s why i can’t fucking stand to watch them for the sake of my blood pressure. while beyond evil is not exempt from using such gruesomeness as a part of its horror aspect, the women in this show, particularly the women who were murdered, occupy such a heavy weight over the narrative that it is impossible to reduce them to what they’re usually reduced to: numbers in files, or cold cases. and because the purpose of beyond evil is to examine the ways grief and loss bring about destruction to people’s lives and communities, these women cannot be seen as numbers. they need to be vivid and real; the audience needs to feel their loss as deeply and gnawingly as the townspeople do. as we would in real life.

personally i’m still surprised at myself for liking a Cop Show this much—because the law enforcement sympathy is unavoidable in a cop show—but then i’m also shocked at how immediately this show establishes its awareness of police power. i don’t mean it gives a passing nod, like a brief disclaimer. i mean that you watch until the end and you’re like: oh! the entire fucking show is about police power and its consequences! this entire goddamn show is about cops’ potential for harm and how it destroys lives! the main character only ever became a cop out of desperation because he realized it would protect him from suffering further at the hands of the police. because he realized it was the only way for him to get access to both the information and the legal power needed to take his own steps to solve his sister’s murder. it’s not radical—it’s a cop show. but it is novel. a cop whose relationship with his own occupation is bitterly resigned at best and traumatic at worst.

this is far from an original thought, but truly i think what makes beyond evil worth watching is that it is so incredibly careful with itself. its meta awareness of its own genre heightens it to a tier above other crime dramas—it knows and rejects voyeuristic perspectives into the lives of people who’ve suffered real loss and tragedy, and so it makes the loss inescapable. every direction you look, someone’s life has been irrevocably altered by the murders you learn about in the story. it gives you no space to push away the murder—no, you need to sit directly in its field of impact. all the fucking time. you are not watching the town suffer, you’re suffering with the town. the story sucks you in and makes you live alongside the rest of them; it's why the first watch hurts so raw. because the story refuses to let you take a true-crime approach. because it refuses to prioritize the narratives of perpetrators over human lives. you are there, and you are hurting.

man. really, if you're going to watch anything, watch this.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Arcane Fandom drinking game.

tw: racism, misogyny, classism, ableism.

tw: fandoms in general, ig?

Take a shot if:

Sevika is reduced to this exoticised, hypersexualized, sub human caricature with no exploration into her motivations, her family, her issues as a disabled woman or her experiences as a working class person who grew up in a literal slum - and instead serves as a sex toy with body heat, who exists solely to get the reader off.

Take two shots of she is neutered instead of oversexualized, and reduced to the Mammy stereotype wherein her only purpose is to roll her eyes and provide commentary on the (white) characters/readers' antics, the latter of which drive the plot.

Take a shot if:

Mel Medarda is reduced to a living example of the Jezebel stereotype: oversexualized in the most dehumanizing and demeaning language possible, made a literal receptacle for other characters' desires with no attempt to engage with her motivations as a politician or her feelings as a woman, or else blamed for every single problem in the show, because apparently an ambitious woman is synonymous with 'The face of pure evil,' a woman who has sex and uses it to express agency is an insatiable slut, and a black woman is literally the devil incarnate.

Take two shots if she's taken the other extreme, and her ambitions, flaws, and sexuality have been wiped away completely, leaving only a hyperperfect husk of a character behind, for us to rally around with empty cries of 'Yaas Queen!' and no attempt to critically examine a) the problematic nature of the praise and b) the essence of what makes her human, and what drives her forward, in the first place.

Take a shot if:

Ekko is reduced to his crush on Powder/Jinx, with no attempt to engage with the complexity of the fact that his best friend warped into a monster, nor the ways in which he himself is a product of Zaun's poverty and his relationship with his community, the impact of trauma on children, his complex relationship with violence and his own moral compass, nor the fact that he is an activist, a freedom fighter, an artist, and an engineer, all at age eighteen.

Take a double shot if the characterization veers the other way, and he is portrayed as 'Forever Alone' because black men cannot have healthy relationships, do not deserve to have a full range of complex emotions, and should be punished by having their most deeply held wishes, friendships, and loves crushed to dust before their eyes, for daring to dream of a better life and a world that loves them.

Take a shot if:

Jayce Talis is not even acknowledged in fanworks as a mixed race man, nor as a person of color, with no attempt to engage with the complexity inherent in his experience of privilege, and the ways in which he is a product of his upbringing, and where these factors intersect with class commentary. Take a half shot if the character is whitewashed, and turned into the kind of bland, boring, vanilla caricature that we're used to seeing in media in perpetuity, who exists as a foil to the villains, a symbol of virtue, and a blank slate on which the viewer is meant to project themselves and their own beliefs.

Take a full shot if the character is the epitome of the white savior trope: a smug, paternalistic, know-it-all white man, whose self-assurance in his own superiority allows him to walk in and take over a conflict, then tell people what to do.

Take two shots if characterization veers the other extreme and he's just a sweet, dumb, himbo puppyboy with no personality, no goals, no desires, and no motivations of his own, save for making Viktor happy and doing his best to be a good boy.

Take three shots if Mel is the one leading him by the nose, because nothing says 'nuance' like making a black woman the villain for the sin of having agency and not existing solely for vilification.

Drink the whole bottle if:

Caitlyn, an Enforcer and a Councilor's daughter, is portrayed as a sympathetic sweetheart angelcake, without being forced to confront the actions of the state and the institution of which she is a part, without being forced to face the consequences of her complicity in the system that oppresses others, nor without being forced to recognize the fact that her actions and her words are not, in and of themselves, inherently just, and the fact that her privilege does not automatically grant her moral authority.

Drink another if she is portrayed as a damsel, an innocent, a child who needs to be protected and cared for, rather than a full person with agency and a complex emotional landscape of her own.

Drink again if the characterization leans the other way and she is turned into a classist caricature, an entitled bitch who doesn't even realize she's the bad guy, or gets turned into a literal Nazi because, once again, folks cannot engage with complex topics such as classism, racism, ableism, etc. and instead resort to infantilizing, simplistic, and reductive portrayals.

Stop drinking and switch to cyanide if her characterization hinges on her relationship with Vi, within which Caitlyn is the dominant top here to 'tame' this feral subhuman, with no understanding of the uncomfortable and undeniably harmful implications of such a power dynamic.

Drink the rest of the alcohol stash if:

Vi, an adult, a former convict and a street savvy survivor, is reduced to an angsty, moody, petulant puppydog off her leash, unable to take responsibility for her own actions, and her trauma is treated as an excuse for her behavior.

Drink another bottle if she is portrayed as a hypermasculine, toxic, violent, and Cait is the one forced to tame her, make her behave, and bring her into line, and her relationship with Vi is portrayed as inherently parent-child, or worse, caretaker-charge, without any regard for Vi's autonomy and right to be flawed as a human being.

Drink a fifth if Vi is portrayed as a hypersexualized aggressor for the audience's titillation, with no attempt to engage with the fact that butch lesbian women have more complex emotions than 'sex starved nymphomaniac', nor the ways in which Vi's abuse, abandonment, and trauma have impacted her relationship with intimacy and sexuality. Drink another if the characterization shifts the other way and Vi becomes a sexless robot who has no personality or wants, nor is given room to grieve for her family, her home, or her own trauma, and is instead expected to bounce back, get over it, and move on as nothing more than Caitlyn' Brave Buff Gf (tm).

Drink the entire bar if:

Viktor, a disabled man, is depicted as a neurotic, fragile, jittery wreck. Take two bottles if his disability is treated as a punchline, or the defining characteristic of his existence, and the only time we're meant to consider his body or his physical pain is when he's having an episode and collapsing, or having a coughing fit, and it's treated as a joke, rather than something which affects him and his ability to function.

Take three bottles if he's taken the other extreme and he is twinkified and babygirlified, and his sexuality and his love life are the only thing we're meant to care about, and his romantic relationship with Jayce is the only thing he's allowed to have, lest the audience think too hard about the ways in which he and his work might benefit Zaun, or how the Council might respond to a disabled person from an underprivileged background.

Take a fourth if the characterization shifts and he's reduced to a hypersexualized toy: a broken doll to be pitied and fetishized and cared for, and Jayce is his Daddy, his owner, his caregiver, his knight in shining armor, all in one.

Take a fifth if, in the midst of all this, his relationship with his disability, and the ways in which it has impacted his life and his choices, is completely glossed over.

Take six if his relationship with his disability is not even acknowledged.

Switch to cocaine if:

Jinx, one of the most complex characters in the show, and the only one with any sort of internal consistency, is reduced to a whiny helpless brat who just wants a hug and an explanation for her widdle feewings from a big strong grownup.

Take an eightball if her relationship with her sister, her trauma, and her mental health is reduced to the 'Hot Psycho' trope: an excuse to play up the 'cool' aspect of her personality while completely ignoring the trauma at the heart of her actions/behavior. Take another if the characterization swings the other way, and she's reduced to a one-dimensional villainess, a demon, an amoral monster, and the only motivation for her actions is the fact that she is a crazy bitch, and the only reason for her existence is to serve as a foil for Vi's goodness and the audience's own hangups re: mental illness and critically engaging with the more unpalatable aspects of human behavior.

Switch to crack if her relationship with Silco or Vi is not even mentioned.

Pour a glass of absinthe if:

Silco, a single parent, a survivor of violence at the hands of a loved one, a victim of systemic abuse, and a revolutionary, is portrayed as the ultimate villain, and his desire to fight for a better life for his community is somehow worse than the Council's decision to literally silence everyone in the undercity via chemical runoff, political neglect and police brutality.

Pour two if he is a cartoonish, hamfisted boogeyman, with no sense of his humanity, nor the ways in which he is a product of the same systems that hurt every undercity character, and the ways his actions replicate the cycle of abuse and hurt the ones he seeks to save in turn.

Pour a third if he becomes an unrepentant sadist, a child abuser and a sexual predator, and there is nothing loving or fatherly about his relationship with Jinx.

Pour four if the character is taken to the other extreme and he's sanctified as a literal martyr and hero, and all his wrongdoing is glossed over because he's just a ~victim~, and everything he does is justified, no matter how terrible, because he had a traumatic childhood or his abusive ex didn't die soon enough. Eat the sugarcube if his bond with Jinx is suddenly a wholesome Disneyfied gag-fest wherein he calls her "Pumpkin" and babies her like a toddler, and their relationship has zero codependent overtones, and she's suddenly a sweet innocent who doesn't have blood on her hands, same way he's not the one who sanctioned it.

Eat the bottle of absinthe if Silco is given the tumblr sexyman treatment, and suddenly he's just a walking Daddy Kink, with no regard for the ways in which he is a complex person, nor the ways in which he and other characters might actually interact, or his history or his trauma or the way it impacts his life.

Drink the whole liquor cabinet if:

Zaun is portrayed as a dystopian hellscape rather than a robust, vibrant, diverse community, with a wide range of experiences and a deep and nuanced relationship with authority, power, and violence. Break into the cellar if, instead, it's just a shitty stereotypical ghetto, full of criminals, addicts, and victims.

Light a cigarette if Piltover, a technological juggernaut that also has a diverse immigrant population, and a vibrant and rich cultural identity, is reduced to a bland, generic, vanilla utopia, and is full of pompous blowhards who have never engaged with the undercity outside the scope of the narrative.

Light a molotov cocktail if it swings the opposite direction and Piltover is turned into an neoliberal nightmare, a soulless, shiny, hollow, plastic, faceless wasteland, populated only by vapid, shallow, self absorbed stooges and shills who have no depth or personality of their own.

Throw the molotov and light the house on fire if:

'Piltover and Zaun' is not even mentioned, and there is no acknowledgement of the way these two cities shape the cast of characters who reside within these systems, much less a mention of the ways in which the characters might not be fully representative of the communities they are a part of, and the fact that they are still very much human beings with individual experiences.

If you didn't get alcohol poisoning, a whopping hangover, or a charge of arson: congratulations.

You win.

[4ranghaes]

Can you continiue your woonhak scenario from your bnd when they’re jealous?? Like what would it be like in the dorms and what would rest of the boys say??

kim woonhak x reader [fluff, fem!reader, reader’s a high school student]

a/n - yes!!! omg this is such a cute idea thank you anonie :))) i do have a fic pretty similar to this but i’ve tried to change it up a bit

part 1

17:52 - “guys! we’re home!” jaehyun yelled into the dorm, woonhak’s arm still linked with yours behind the pair in front of you.

sungho rolled his eyes, “yeah, idiot, we can hear the do—”

“and woonagi’s girlfriend is here!” he finished, the three men in the living room all staring at each other in shock, leaning to get a look at the front door.

riwoo and jaehyun had taken off their shoes, smiling evilly at the members further in the dorm. you stayed in the entrance way, giving an apologetic smile to woonhak.

“i’m sorry for anything they say, or do—” he started, grabbing your arm before you could walk away.

you smiled, cupping his face, “it’s fine, woonie! really, i don’t mind. i’m excited to meet them.”

he rolled his eyes, grumbling as he let you go, “i’m not.”

“hi,” you said shyly, introducing yourself to the members politely, woonhak appearing behind you and placing a protective hand on your back. your school uniform still covered your body, your bag slung over one shoulder.

“nice to meet you, nice to meet you, come on, we’re going to my room,” woonhak said, hurriedly as he took your bag, pulling you along.

“wait a minute!” leehan exclaimed, “do we not get to introduce ourselves?”

“no,” riwoo said, shaking his head definitely, “woonhak made that very clear.”

you giggled slightly, looking apologetically at woonhak, who pouted.

“no, g–go ahead,” he sighed, waving a hand dismissively.

“what? what?!” sungho laughed, “tell us!”

“because this is my girlfriend!” jaehyun yelled, impersonating woonhak’s whining from the walk home, bursting out into laughter afterwards as your boyfriend sighed next to you.

“he said that?!” taesan laughed, “ya! woonhak-ah, don’t worry, we won’t try and steal your girl!”

“he hasn’t even let her come to the dorms!” riwoo said quickly, looking at woonhak’s pissed off expression.

“yeah! i didn’t! and she is my girlfriend! and you two said that if i brought her here i could have all the time in the world!” he exclaimed in the classic woonagi whining voice, wrapping an arm around your body and bringing you close, “she knows all your names, she’s a big fan! and you know her name, boom, done! now we’re going into my room!”

he grabbed your wrist, storming off to his bedroom and dragging you with him as you waved goodbye to the members quickly.

“ya! door open at least 3 inches!” sungho exclaimed, woonhak grumbling in return, slamming the door to prove a point.

“ya,” you laughed, running a hand through your boyfriend’s hair as he sat on the bed, standing in between his legs, “they’re winding you up on purpose, you know that right?”

he pouted, rolling his eyes, “i know.” his hands were wrapped loosely around your legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he shrugged, trying to remain cool. “i just don’t like them teasing me, especially about you.”

you smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of his head as he grinned, leaning his head up and encouraging you to lean back down and press a kiss to his lips.

“ya! kim woonhak!” taesan yelled, stood in the doorway.

“hyung!” woonhak whined, throwing a pillow at the door, taesan deflecting the hit. “get out!”

“i just wanted to say we’re making dinner for 7,” he said, an evil grin on his face as he closed the door slowly, “woonhak was making out with his girlfriend!”

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"On a snowy day." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

On a snowy day, Daryl's daughter tells him about an interesting conversation between you and Aunt Maggie, but Marley ends up spilling the beans to Carol too about her daddy's worst fear.

A/N: Just another sweet and funny imagine about Daryl and his daughter hehe another one to add to the list :) "My everything." "A whole new world." "For life." "Make you happy." Hope you like it♥

The whole street, the whole block, all of Alexandria is covered in snow, painting the world of the living white after being blood red for so many years. The green of the leaves has disappeared under the cold season, snowmen on every house as a reminder of the past. Snowflakes sway in a gentle dance in the evening breeze, under a sky that changes color with the passing of the hours.

On her way back home, holding her daddy’s hand, Marley’s little world seems infinite at 5 and a half years old. Her winter boots sink into the snow, lifting it slightly with each step she takes. Her brown hair is identical to her father’s, a little messy under her white wool hat.

“The shot still hurt, angel?” Daryl has to look down to meet his daughter’s gaze, blue eyes looking back at him, deeply. “Ya want daddy to carry ya the rest of the way?”

Marley nods, because the walk back from visiting her mom in the infirmary was too long for her little legs.

“Please, daddy.”

Daryl smiles as his ears fill with the tender, sweet voice of his daughter calling him daddy, a voice he learned to recognize ever since Marley said her first word. He has to bend down to pick her up, holding her against his chest as she hugs him close, his forearms beneath her, her small arms around his neck.

“Why are ya so cute, huh?” Daryl is still smiling as he sets off again for the walk home. “Ya do that on purpose, don’ ya? Is that yer master evil plan? To make daddy love ya so much he can’t breathe?”

Marley laughs, her gaze locked with her father's eyes, the corners of her lip curling into a smile as she continues to learn to understand the depth of her Daddy's love, but before she can respond, a neighbor's wave from her front porch forces them both to look to the right.

Daryl lets out a small hey back without stopping, followed by a nod before turning back to his daughter, but Marley’s eyes are still on the woman they leave behind.

“Sweetheart…” He uses his arms under her body to rock her once, softly, getting her to look back in his direction. “What’s wrong, angel?”

Marley holds a thoughtful expression, her brow furrowing slightly with the seriousness of her little thoughts at her short 5 years old. But Daryl can’t help but smile, because that expression is identical to yours when you both didn’t like something.

“Aunt Maggie told mommy that Mrs. Ellie likes to stare at you too much when you leave the house in your sleeveless shirt in the summer. She said the neighbor was a female version of a dog, but I don’t know what that means, daddy.”

Hearing her words, Daryl has to make an enormous effort not to laugh.

“Mommy said that? Or was it Aunt Maggie?”

“Aunt Maggie...” Marley tilts her head to the side, still thoughtful. “But Mommy said we needed to get you some baggy clothes, or burn that shirt, or maybe just get rid of the neighbor, but I don’t know what that means either.”

It’s hilarious for Daryl at the new information, though he does his best to remain cool, but there’s also something daring in your words, a compliment to his body even though he wore those clothes without a thought for others. Well, he knew he did it to get your attention, but not the rest of the world’s. Daryl also knew that kids didn’t know how to keep secrets, no matter if they knew or not that some things weren’t supposed to be said.

And he can’t help but smile.

“Oh yeah? And what else mommy said ‘bout daddy, Marley?”

Marley’s expression changes as in her mind, she starts putting the words mommy and daddy together.

“Mommy told Aunt Maggie that you are still very hot, like living forever on a summer day.” Daryl chuckles as does his daughter, having a blast with your unfiltered words, though he also knew that he had to teach his child later that listening to adult conversations was wrong. “Is that a good thing, daddy?”

“Well… that means mommy finds daddy attractive.”

Marley nods slightly.

“So you are handsome, because you are.” She smiles, because to her, Daddy is the most handsome man in the community. Daryl shakes his head, because his reserved personality still prevented him from seeing himself the way others did. “Mommy said she really likes your long hair.”

The corner of his lip curls into a smile, loving the way Marley’s small hands brush away the strands of hair that usually cover part of his eyes.

“Maybe Daddy should tell Mommy that he really likes her too.”

Marley lets out a sweet laugh, hugging his neck again.

“You stare at Mommy a lot, Daddy. Last week at Uncle Rick’s house, he told his wife that you couldn’t take your eyes off your wife.”

Even in the dead of winter, Daryl can feel the sudden warmth on his cheeks, spreading throughout his body as he climbs the steps of his front porch, walking over to the rocking chair in the corner to sit in it with Marley on his lap, her little legs swinging out on either side.

“Yeah, daddy likes to look at mommy a lot, angel, and s'cause mommy is a pretty thing to look at.”

Marley thinks for a few seconds, trying to understand such simple words that at the same time hide a deep meaning.

“The love you and mommy have for me, is it the same as yours for mommy?”

Daryl has to think about his answer for a few seconds, trying to explain with words that his daughter can understand, the love he had for her and for his wife.

“S'the same, but different. Mommy and daddy love ya with all their hearts, angel, 'cause ya came into our lives to make everythin' better. And daddy loves mommy with all his heart too, that’s why I asked mommy to be ma wife, so she’d be stuck with me for life.” Daryl tries not to laugh as he remembers that that was what he told you when you got married. “Mommy and daddy love each other a lot too, and ya were born from that love.”

Marley holds his gaze, her little mind trying to process his words.

“Aunt Maggie asked Mommy if you two were thinking about having another baby.” Marley tilts her head again, looking at her daddy with blue eyes that sparkle with curiosity. “Are we having another baby at home, Daddy?”

Daryl smiles as he uses one hand to tuck a strand of his daughter’s hair behind her ear, but for him, it’s a relief to see his baby willing to share her place as queen of the house.

“Don’ know, angel. Daddy thinks it might be a good idea for ya to have a lil’ brother or sister at some point, but that’s Mommy’s decision. S'her body that has to carry the baby, and Daddy ain't pressurin' Mommy into doin' anythin’ she’s not comfortable with, okay?”

Marley nods.

“But maybe if we ask Santa for a baby, he can bring one and Mommy won’t have to carry my little brother or sister inside her.”

Daryl chuckles, but he too is at peace with the idea that his daughter’s innocence is still intact in that cruel world.

“That’s an excellent idea, angel.” His hand, warm despite the season, caresses his daughter’s soft cheek. “If s'okay with Mommy, I know ya’ll be a great big sister.”

Marley smiles at the touch of her daddy’s fingers against her skin, not even noticing that his hand is calloused, somewhat rough, because he always caressed her cheek softly, so gently that she never noticed Daryl’s insecurity the first time he thought he would hurt her skin.

“You, Daryl Dixon…” Marley giggles, because she never used her daddy’s real name, because to her, he had always been daddy. “You’re a good daddy. The best daddy in the whole world.”

Like the snow melting when the weather leaves winter behind, Daryl feels an overflowing love for his little daughter, his baby, his angel, feeling her love that managed to melt those fears he harbored inside him, the mistaken idea that he would never be the father Marley deserved.

“Can ya stay this lil’ forever, angel? Can ya promise daddy ya will never leave his side?”

Marley tries not to laugh, making an effort to keep a serious expression to match her promise.

“I’ll never leave your side, daddy. I promise.”

Daryl smiles, and when he does, his expression softens, always, and his blue eyes become warm as he takes in how identical his daughter is to him.

“What’s this beautiful couple doing here?” Carol’s sweet voice draws their attention, and Marley has to turn to look at her, smiling the instant she recognizes her. Daryl pulls her off his lap, and his daughter clings to Carol’s body the moment she reaches the porch. “Are you better now, honey? Your mommy said you were getting a little sick.”

Marley looks up, smiling instantly.

“Yes, Denisse gave me a shot. It hurt a little, but when she told daddy he should get one too to prove to me it didn’t hurt, he told her only his wife could touch his ass.”

Carol’s laughter drowns out Daryl’s embarrassment, embarrassment he tries to cover with a serious expression, but when she says goodbye minutes later and Marley climbs back onto her daddy’s lap, he has to keep the same expression so as not to give himself away.

“Marley, sweetheart, s'okay when ya tell daddy that mommy thinks he’s attractive, but ya don’ have to tell everyone that daddy’s scared of shots, okay?”

Marley, though confused by the contradictory idea that always telling the truth is okay, nods before leaning against Daryl’s chest, one side of her face feeling the softness of his long–sleeved black t–shirt that he always pulls up to his elbows. Daryl chuckles as he wraps his arms around her, like a refuge from the slight chill while they wait for mommy to come home. Then, he shakes his head in disbelief, his long hair moving with him, because Daryl knows that when the day is over, his family, the family he made at the end of the world, will know that the man who survived a couple of gunshots and several fights is scared of shots.

Oh, but what the hell, because after marrying the love of his life and having a little girl as a daughter, everyone already knew that, despite his rough exterior, Daryl is a big softie (in a good way) for his girls.

@fluffy-dixon

[hrtwayne]

Home || Lady Alcina Dimitrescu

Pairing: Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x Wife!Reader [Resident Evil Au!]

Summary: Where Alcina watches you and Bela tending to the castle's flowers!

Note: English is not my first language!!

Warning: None!

MASTERLIST

Y/n walked gracefully through the Dimitrescu Castle's garden, sunlight filtering through the canopy of ancient trees. Her steps were firm and confident, embodying a woman who had become an essential part of the intricate workings of that majestic place. The title of Second Lady, once unimaginable, had become her official role alongside Alcina Dimitrescu.

Among her daily tasks, one peculiar responsibility always awaited her: tending to the flowers. Bela, Alcina's eldest daughter, often accompanied her during these moments. Their relationship was more than just stepmother and stepdaughter; it was a bond of genuine affection, a connection that transcended blood ties. To Bela and her sisters, Y/n was not only a maternal figure but also a friend and confidant.

As they strolled through the colorful flowerbeds, Bela expressed her impatience with the task, a reflection of the Dimitrescu family's fiery temperament. However, Y/n, with her captivating serenity, turned every moment into an opportunity for learning and joy.

"Mother, these roses are taking so long to grow!" Bela exclaimed, frustrated.

Y/n smiled, gently stroking the delicate petals.

"Flowers have their own time, dear. We cannot rush nature, but we can appreciate every phase of its growth."

Y/n watched as Bela slowly began to relax, finding enchantment in patience and meticulous care. She taught her to prune delicately, water attentively, and speak to the plants as if they were close confidants.

Meanwhile, Alcina observed from afar, a tender smile gracing her lips. It was a portrait of the harmony Y/n had brought to her world—a presence that not only filled gaps but also strengthened existing bonds. Beside her, Cassandra, one of her younger daughters, voiced what Alcina felt in her heart.

"Having her in our lives was the best thing that ever happened to us, don’t you think, Mother?" Cassandra said, her eyes shining with admiration.

Alcina nodded softly.

"Yes, my dear. She brought light to our shadowed castle, turning it into a true home."

As the sun set slowly on the horizon, the garden bore witness not only to the blooming of roses and tulips but also to the flourishing of bonds and affections between a woman, her stepdaughters, and the castle's matriarch. There, in that garden, the seeds of love, care, and understanding grew as vividly as the flowers they tended.

"Y/n," Alcina murmured sincerely. "Thank you for everything you've done for me and my daughters. You’ve brought a light I never could have imagined into our lives. The love and care you give are priceless."

Y/n lifted her gaze slightly, meeting the eyes of the woman she loved. A tender smile graced her lips as she listened to Alcina’s words.

"Alcina, I only followed what my heart told me to do. Taking care of you and your daughters is what completes me, what brings me joy and purpose. There’s nothing I desire more than to stand by your side, supporting and loving you and your girls," Y/n replied calmly.

Alcina's eyes glimmered with deep gratitude and overflowing love. She gently cupped Y/n’s face, cherishing every moment as if it were too precious to let slip away.

In that moment, Dimitrescu Castle bore witness not only to the grandeur of its towering spires and imposing halls but also to the simple, intangible beauty of a love blossoming between two women bound by ties beyond time and creation. A love that echoed through the corridors, enveloping not just Alcina and Y/n but also her daughters, transforming that shadowed place into a home filled with affection and warmth.

[tsukuhoe]

07. when they act this way i know, i got em

walking into a production studio, you’re greeted by a cavernous room with high ceilings and the chatter of a bustling camera n’ film crew. a blonde man in a tailored suit stood in the middle of the set, sitting in front of the camera with softboxes and a photographer. you weren’t even sure when you started staring. it wasn’t deliberate— more like your gaze had wandered, found something beautiful, and refused to move. the man made a perfect model. his sharp, symmetrical features radiate an aura of discipline and grace. his intense, almond-shaped eyes, framed by faintly tired shadows, carry a quiet depth. his tall, lean build, that embodies the perfect silhouette for high-fashion modelling. 

then it hit you. this was the well-known model: kento nanami. other than the fact that you’ve seen him in magazines and on your twitter timeline, his name sounded so familiar.  

nanami lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. you froze, stomach doing an ungraceful flip. you should’ve looked away. but somehow, you couldn’t. his expression softened, lips parting in a silent question. before he could say anything, a loud holler interrupted the moment. 

“what do you mean, another team is here?! this is studio b, our studio, booked for the entire day!” utahime exclaimed in frustration. 

“funny, because our confirmation says studio b, same day, same time. maybe check with your admin before accusing us.” a man in suit scoffed, clearly annoyed at her. 

“i don’t need to check. i triple-checked with the office last week.” 

“well, unless you have a magic booking system, we’re not leaving. we’re shooting for GQ korea.” tension builds as the respective crews begin to notice the conflict. cameras stopped stuttering, crews stopped chattering. you cautiously walked to where the utahime was and stood beside her. 

“hime, what’s wrong?” you timidly asked, not wanting to provoke your friend any more than she already is. “what’s wrong is that the studio that we booked is being used by the modelling agency of our stupid management!” she snapped, then turning back to the man. “look, i don’t know who you are, but we have a full day’s shoot planned. our shoot can’t wait, so you can take that nasty attitude of yours and—” 

“whoa, whoa, woah! utahime! what’s going on here?” gojo’s voice boomed behind you. “gojo. i do not need you here right now. go meet with toji and the rest of the cast. y/n, please go with him.” utahime gritted teeth at him. she was frustrated and did not need anyone, especially gojo, to interfere with the messy situation. 

“sorry about what’s happening, sweets. i know this is your first time on set for a film…” the white-haired man sighed, leading you to the others. “normally this doesn’t happen on set. i swear, it’s a lot less stressful than this.” 

“it’s fine! utahime seems really upset right now, so i’m more worried about her than the current situation…” 

in front of you sat a tall, lean, and muscular man with a noticeable scar running down the corner of his mouth. toji fushiguro. an actor known for playing in multiple films such as the scream series, breaking bad, resident evil, the john wick series, and many more projects. “whatcha lookin’ at? like what ya see?” he smirked, face smug. 

you pursed your lips, trying your best to smile and appear friendly. heavy tension hung in the air as you opened your mouth to say something. 

“toji.” gojo’s tone dropped, giving him a bitter smile all while trying to mask an irritated glare.

“it’s nice to meet you! i feel honoured being able to work with you for my first—” “mhm.” oh. so it’s going to be like that? toji’s attitude irked you. his cocky attitude and superiority complex. however, you’ll be working with him on set. as much as you wanted to be petty, purposely causing friction with your colleague wouldn’t do any good. be overly kind for no stupid reason. that’ll annoy him, right? as long as it doesn’t seem obvious that you’re trying to vex him, it wouldn’t be bad for your image. operation piss toji fushiguro off is a go.

while gojo and toji were conversing, you looked back to the set. nanami was on his break, sipping a cup of iced water, and having his make up touched up. his gaze was soft, almost searching, but there was a warmth in it— an unspoken curiosity. he smiled, just a little, the kind of smile that makes you feel like you've known someone for much longer than you have. then suddenly you saw him talk with the make up artist, get up from his seat and start walking. towards you. you. 

“excuse me,” he said, his voice calm, but with a hint of amusement. “you’re y/n, yes? y/n l/n?” you nodded, offering a warm smile. “mhm! and you’re kento nanami, right? i’ve seen you on covers and in posts from shoko n’ hime!” he nodded back, returning a gentle smile. however, inside, he was confused. did you not remember him?

“you personally know shoko and utahime?” 

“yes!! i love them with my whole heart! we talk often— with yuki tsukumo! you’ve worked with her, right? for a vogue shooting—” 

“everyone, we finally have things figured out. there was a double booking according to the front desk.” utahime’s voice boomed. “we’ll be filming and taking our promotion poster photos after GQ korea’s sets are done. for now, please practice your lines for the trailer. we are not leaving today until the trailer has been all completely filmed!” 

after the announcement, there was a brief moment of silence between you and nanami, until you broke it. “so… nanami, would you like to give me some tips with posing? since you’re a professional, ya know?” you tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. 

do you really not remember him?

album bonus tracks: — toji has a reputation to be a pain to work with bts, but his output is really good! — soooo how are we feeling about nanami ^.^ — ive been dying to release this and the next chapter omg! — might update it later 2night

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