#do you know how evil busy one has to be in order to be unable to post???? TO POST???? ON HERE??????

[welcometogrouchland]

ONCE AGAIN thinking about how Steph and Cass both think of crime as being related to abuse but they think of it in different ways based on the abuse done to them- Cass is inclined to see perpetrators as abused in some form and in need of rehabilitation bc the only way she can conceptualize her abuse is through David's making her a killer (and not any of the physical abuse involved in her training or the emotional and psychological abuse of depriving her of speech, because those both make her a better vigilante in her mind) whereas Steph sees the perpetrator as abuser, because her father's criminal persona (his violence, his inferiority complex, him literally and figuratively holding Steph and her mother as hostages) is so entwined with the abuse he inflicted on her and her mother, and she feels this so strongly she often fails to see Cass' perspective of criminals as victims, when of course the answer lies in between in that many of the most iconic rogues of Gotham (save few who lean one way or the other) are both abused and abuser, victim and perpetrator, Steph and Cass' number one fear, the one Steph can't think about and the one Cass obsesses over, of being just like the people who hurt you.

[sturns-mermaid]

CASTAWAY PROLOGUE

wc: 1.2k | proofread by me

this is a part of my castaway series | intro here | dividers @bernardsbendystraws

pirate matt is not my original idea credit goes to @shadowthesim237 she has an amazing pirate matt and siren reader au you should definitely check out!

WARNINGS: mentions of death, betrayal, forbidden romance, stealing

You are your father’s daughter. You’ve been by his side since you were a little girl. He’s all you’ve had. Your mother died in childbirth, so you never got to meet her. Your father always spoke very highly of her, saying she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You wish you’d gotten to meet her. You wonder if she would think you’re doing the right thing. You know you shouldn’t keep things from your father, especially something as important as this. You know it breaks many rules of the ship—the rules set in place for everyone’s safety. But he wouldn’t mind, would he? I mean, he seemed to favor him, which is why he was his right-hand man—the one who would take charge of the ship when it was your father’s time. You’re not sure what your father would say if he knew you were secretly seeing Matthew behind his back. It’s not like you’re lying to him. You would never lie to your father. You just don’t want him to worry about you. He always treats you like you’re still his little girl, which, in reality, you are, but you want to make your own decisions for a change. Matthew, whom you call “Tooth,” is amazing, and you enjoy hanging out with him. He sneaks into your quarters after the annual meeting your father holds every night with all the men. You cuddle and lie in your bed as you play with the rings on his hands. He talks to you and tells you how beautiful you are, stroking your hair while keeping that stupid toothpick between his teeth. You didn’t know then that your father would die just a few days later, that your last words to him would be filled with so much anger and hate that they make your skin crawl.

Someone you never thought would betray you does so in such an evil and twisted way; it feels like they stabbed you repeatedly in the heart, and you bled to death while they laughed and watched. That’s something you never thought would happen in a million years.

July 8th, 1755

The ship hummed with the bustle of preparations as the crew readied themselves for the captain’s next venture into piracy. Men scrambled across the deck, gathering supplies, securing weapons, and making ready for the night ahead. Amid the flurry of movement, your father—the captain—stood at the ship’s helm, his watchful gaze following the crew, barking orders at some of them. Yet his mind seemed distant, lost in thoughts that weren’t entirely focused on the work around him.

It ached your heart to watch him like this. You had come to realize that the raids he orchestrated were no longer just about survival or the thrill of adventure—they were about petty vengeance, greed, and cruelty. You’d always known you were pirates, but something about it felt wrong now, especially when you learned the truth.

You had once assumed all the men your father took down, all the ships he plundered, were criminals or outlaws—scallywags who had it coming. But the deeper you dug, the more you understood that he didn’t just hunt thieves. He hunted men—good men, too. Every meeting your father held with his crew, including Matt, was off-limits to you. He called it "men’s business," and, though you were never invited, your curiosity grew.

One night, unable to resist any longer, you slipped out of your quarters. The faint glow of golden light seeped from under the door to your father’s office where he and the crew were gathered. You pressed your ear to the crack, straining to hear the conversation within. Your fingers twisted a strand of your curly hair as you leaned closer, desperate to catch more.

“And ya will be on the port side. Pay attention now,” your father’s voice cut through the dimness. You heard a crew member lean in, but your father lowered his voice, and you couldn’t make out the rest. Frustration swelled inside you. You shifted, eager to catch more, but before you could react, a pair of hands gripped your waist, spinning you around and pressing you against the wall.

“What’re ya doin’, princess?” Matt’s voice was low, just loud enough for you to hear, his breath warm against your ear.

You gasped, your eyes dropping to the toothpick between his teeth. “Bet daddy wouldn’t want you listening in on his business,” he added, a grin tugging at his lips as his fingers tucked a stray curl behind your ear.

“I deserve to be in there,” you muttered, crossing your arms in defiance, but your chest tightened with unease.

Matt’s gaze softened for a moment, his hands wandering down your body until they rested at your hips. “Ain’t nothin’ ya need to worry about, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing circles on your skin. “Now come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

His tone shifted, playful as always, but there was something else there too—a softness you hadn’t noticed before.

“And you?” you asked, glancing at him. “I thought you’d be in there too.”

Matt cracked his knuckles, stepping back and guiding you toward your quarters. His hand lingered on your lower back, guiding you through the ship with a mix of authority and ease. As he kicked open your door with his boot, he grinned.

“Come on, princess. You need rest,” he teased, ushering you into your room.

You sank onto your worn mattress with a sigh, your thoughts swirling. “Has my father killed any innocent men before?” you asked softly, the question hanging heavy between you.

Matt paused, running a hand over his bandana-covered head. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, sitting next to you. His fingers brushed the toothpick from his mouth, slipping it into his shirt pocket as he studied you with something like quiet understanding.

Your heart sank as you sulked, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your hands twisted the ends of your hair, your brows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t know how to make sense of it all, and Matt seemed to know that.

“You’re a beauty, ya know that?” His voice softened, and he reached out to tilt your chin toward him with his thumb. His blue eyes locked onto yours, intense and warm.

Your breath caught, and for a moment, time slowed. Matt’s thumb brushed your lower lip gently, and you could feel your heart racing, cheeks flushing with heat. But before anything more could happen, the sound of footsteps echoed from the deck, growing louder.

Matt pulled away, flashing a mischievous grin. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before slipping through the hidden hatch on your floor, vanishing into the ship’s depths as the footsteps grew closer.

You giggled to yourself, watching as the hatch clicked shut, his presence lingering in the air long after he was gone.

Just as the footsteps reached your door, a familiar voice called out. “Lassie?” Your father’s soft knock echoed through the wood as he poked his head inside, a smile on his face.

You looked up, offering a smile of your own, though it felt forced. He entered and leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his eyes filled with a quiet affection as he gazed at you. His nightly ritual. A small moment of tenderness amid all the chaos. But tonight, you had a plan. A plan that would cross a few lines, perhaps, but your curiosity was too strong to ignore. You were going to sneak into your father’s office and find out exactly what he was plotting. You had to know, even if it meant uncovering something that could shatter everything you thought you knew about your family.

a/n: I'M SO EXCITED!! (idk what direction I'm going in)

edit: this is queued

tags: @itsmaddielouis @oliviasthatgirl @brianna-grace12 @scorpio1205 @submattenthusiast @courta13 @mattsplaything @conspiracy-ash @anyaa2s @hazedsturns @eclipsturns @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @immaqulate @t0riiiis @heartsonlyforchris @blushsturns @hearts4werka @mattsbows @sweetshuga @leoslaboratory @pair-of-pantaloons @riasturns  @lezleeferguson-120 @sturnsflirt @sturnsblogs @fratbrochrisgf @udonknowmeh12

[darkeagleruins]

From David Thomsen:

An Open Letter to Leftists: On July 13, 2024 things CHANGED. For too long you have mistaken our TOLERANCE for weakness and it emboldened you. That TIME has come to an END. Things are going to happen FAST now and you will find yourself wondering HOW you got here. So, here’s how.

You called us RACISTS while we were standing together as WHITE, BLACK, & BROWN Americans. You overwhelmed us with images of races unable to COEXIST. Then came DEI, reparations, & constant ATTACKS for even the smallest perceived slight. You needed us DIVIDED, which was the GOAL.

We supported GAY marriage and didn’t notice the TQIA’s at first. Then you went after OUR KIDS, openly flaunted your sexuality, & made PRONOUNS a weapon. You had men competing in WOMEN’s sports and invading their private spaces. And again you demonized those that DARE push back.

We got behind “ME TOO”, not knowing the intent. The slightest accusation became grounds for MOB RULE. You cancelled and shamed. You made being a MAN the problem. Toxic MASCULINITY was the phrase of the day. So we watched you TEACH AND RAISE a generation of SOFT, feckless boys.

WE’RE ALL immigrants and our ancestors did it RIGHT. They learned English, got JOBS, and assimilated into the culture in order to be a part of this GREAT NATION. Then you allowed an INVASION, gave them handouts, and let them do as they LIKE. Hell, you even wanted them to VOTE.

You changed the NAMES of mountains, and buildings, and teams to ERASE our history. You took the pledge out of schools, knelt during the anthem, and burned our FLAG!! And did it while proudly displaying those of OTHER countries and movements. You made PATRIOT a dirty word.

You took away our VOICE. Media STOPPED even talking about OUR side. You PREACHED to us during our shows, on the NEWS and in the theatres. VIRTUE SIGNALING at every turn. And you LIED. Telling us not to BELIEVE what we were seeing with our own EYES. We felt isolated, even CRAZY.

Then HE came along. He was brash, RAW, but grew on US. He wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN. He spoke to the helplessness we FELT. You said RUSSIA was his handler. You attacked his CHARACTER, his family. And yet, HE WON. You didn’t let us CELEBRATE though. You said he CHEATED.

So you took to the STREETS. You PROTESTED, and BURNT, and THREATENED, and ATTACKED. Our fascist response was to remain SILENT. We heard every single day that, ORANGE MAN bad. The economy was STRONG, the world was SAFE, and the WALL was going up. You couldn’t let that STAND.

Then came your VIRUS. You locked us in OUR HOMES, hurt our businesses, stole moments from our CHILDREN they won’t ever get back. Keeping us separated became LAW. You killed our ELDERLY and VULNERABLE. Then you FORCED us to inject a CURE. If we refused, you SHAMED and fired us.

You LIED some more. A lot more. You covered up LAPTOPS, mobilized your ARMY of celebs, and smeared the man’s RECORD and reputation. Worse yet, you CHEATED. At least you told us the BLUE WAVE was coming. We didn’t expect it to happen while we were SLEEPING. You STOLE an election.

The best of US finally stood & took to the STREETS. You provoked us and let us walk into that BUILDING. You killed a woman and PROSECUTED the rest. You locked us up. You CENSORED us. Made sure we couldn’t RISE. You weaponized LAW and laughed as YOU DID IT. You thought you’d WON.

We sat and watched you destroy our COUNTRY. You defunded our POLICE, allowing crime to run RAMPANT. You spent to the point we couldn’t AFFORD to live. You abandoned BASES, and EMBASSIES, and allies. You made us WEAK. Then OTHERS began to awake. So you became DESPERATE, more vile.

You convicted him of CRIMES he didn’t commit on CHARGES you didn’t define. You tried to take his FORTUNE. Your leaders called him a THREAT and a fascist. You called him HITLER. And you DEMONIZED EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US. We lost friends and FAMILY. MSM spent everyday on our EVIL.

Then SHOTS rang out. YOU NEARLY KILLED HIM. But the man ROSE. He lifted his FIST in the air and told us to FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT. This selfish, HATEFUL, ugly man nearly gave all to save a COUNTRY he LOVES. And we’d been afraid to wear a RED HAT? Our eyes teared with ANGER, respect.

He withstood all you could MUSTER. And in doing so, he EMPOWERED us. And so now you see, the REAL men and REAL women are coming to take our COUNTRY back. We won’t be SILENCED, we can’t be STOPPED. You will watch as every ounce of POWER you once held is returned to the PEOPLE.

We will restore LAW AND ORDER and ILLEGALS will be shown the door. WE will retake our SCHOOLS, our cities, and our STATES. The minority will NO LONGER dictate to a once silent MAJORITY. We the PEOPLE of the United States of America LOVE this man and country. We will and are MAGA!

[wisteriasymphony]

Other random question, how did Adrien become the Guardian in the Ozybath AU?

Master Fu still went out to choose people off the street to get miraculouses, but he just so happened to give the Ladybug to Adrien (otherwise it happened the same way), and the Cat to Claudia. Claudia's interaction with him was something along the lines of standing up against (read: cussing out) a bus ticket collector who was harassing Fu. After all, a holder needs to be willing to take action and fight for what's right, don't they? ...The excessive multi-lingual cursing is just a necessary evil, you see.... (Does this mean they use them...? No. At first neither of them can be convinced to wear them at all, because that's a lot of pressure they didn't sign up for and they are very busy people!) Anyway, very early on after the miraculouses are handed out, Hawkmoth finds Fu himself and, for lack of a better word, nukes the shit out of him, meaning the previous guardian A. is dead, and B. was unable to pass on any knowledge to Adrien/Ozymandias himself before the 'being dead' stuff.

It's only after saving the miracle box at the last minute (through Tikki's guidance) that Adrien finally decides to use the damn thing. Knowing that in time, he too will die or lose his memories from this line of work, Adrien dubs himself Ozymandias, shepherd of the arcane and great king of an empire that shall soon be naught but dust and forgotten knowledge. A lack of any outside support from The Order (which doesn't know he exists) or Master Fu (who is, again, dead) is what leads Ozymandias to be so attached to the grimoire—He usually either has it around to take notes on akumas (which is fundamentally useless but he doesn't know that) or to translate it from Old Chinese to French using what knowledge he does know of Chinese.

Sabbath, of course, isn't all too interested in the "wide-spread implications of the responsibility thrust upon us" that Oz Is obsessing over (which he mostly does because he's never been given enough agency to be in charge of anything, especially not this), so Sabbath serves as a way to ground Ozymandias, in addition to being the one who does all of the actual fighting. She gets on his nerves often with her middle-school-boy flavor of crude humor, but regardless they still have that sort of early-Ladynoir-staple closeness that comes with being the only two superheroes in the city. It's not as if Ozymandias ever tries to keep any information from her, mostly because he tends to do his translations/fieldwork when they're together on patrol.

[nishayuro]

I have an ask! Supervillain Sukuna + UA Student Child!

It’s hard to be a hero in an evil household……and keep your dear old dad’s “career” as secret.

Supervillain! Sukuna with UA Student! Reader who is his child

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! This is an interesting prompt! I really love MHA x JJK crossover series LMAOO Also I’m so sorry for not answering this sooner, I was really conflicted with how I wanted this to go lmao

Genre: Angst-ish

GN!Reader (Your hero name is Cleave)

Since you were small, you’ve always dreamt of becoming a hero. You found out about it from seeing heroes such as All Might on TV.

You had a strong quirk, so your chances of becoming a hero is strong

What’s stopping you, you ask? Well…

Your father, Ryomen Sukuna, is a well known supervillain in Japan… Although no one really knows what he looks like nor his real name. 

He goes by the name “king of curses” and has never shown his face

Ironic, isn’t it? It’s not your fault that you don’t know that your beloved dad is one of Japan’s most wanted. He never told you and you never found out, all you know is that he is a normal father with a normal job.

And with a dream of being a hero, asking your dad to let you go to UA highschool

At first he refused, you don’t know why, he only said for your safety

But then he allowed you because he thought it would benefit him.

When you got into UA, Sukuna congratulated you!

After the USJ attack happened, when your father found out, he was pissed. 

He might be a villain, but you are still his child and no one dares hurt his child

Let's just say the League of Villains was greeted by your father’s wrath for a while.  

You began to suspect your dad after a few encounters with villains, memories of when you were a child and he’d have to leave late at night and the conversations he’s been having on the phone have started making sense. 

You decided to do a little digging, and to your luck, your hero work had a meeting about an important mission, and got like, a good chunk of Japan’s heroes in a conference along with their student interns. 

It turns out they have information on the “King of curses”, and a debriefing was in order for the next move.

The hero in front started with a recap about the villains involved, and finally, they revealed that they got a photo of the king of curses.

They flashed a slightly blurred, yet still recognizable photo…

To your horror, a side profile photo of you dad was on the screen, you can’t mistake it. You’ve known this man all your life to know him even if it was just his back. 

You stared at the photo in horror. Is your father… really the king of curses? One of Japan’s most wanted villains who has escaped even All Might himself? You thought about all the stories you’ve told your dad about U.A. About the teachers, your friends, the staff. To think that he could potentially use them against your peers. You spaced out during the meeting, inner turmoil eating at you. 

“Cleave, you alright?” You were pulled out of your trance by Edgeshot, the hero you were interning with. “Oh, yeah, sorry. It was just too much information I got mentally blocked.” You lied. “We’ll definitely have to work on your concentration then” He commented. 

The briefing lasted another hour, with the heroes planning what action to take. They also revealed that they were aware of one of the King of curses’ hideouts, which they found by spying on him. They decided for an ambush next week. You knew your father will be on a “business trip” next week, so the dates check out. You knew, you knew information. You knew some things and a few from whenever you’d overhear your dad in calls. Suddenly all his gibberish made sense in context. 

And yet even when you knew, you still kept quiet. Feigning ignorance, unable to provide the team with crucial evidence that could help this whole mission ten fold. 

You’re conflicted, your moral values are in shambles. And as the meeting ended, and you were dismissed to go home, with the promise of no information getting out. You arrived home, where your father greeted you. Asking about your day.

‘Family… or the citizen’s safety…?’ you thought, eyes cast downwards, unable to look your dad in the eyes. However, you’ve already made your choice on the way home. 

“It was okay, just did some patrolling and handled a few robberies. Nothing special today” 

masterlist

navigation

[thegazettejournalmirror]

GREENDALE'S 2nd TUMBLR ISSUE OF THE GAZETTE JOURNAL MIRROR!!

March 26 . 24. - a Quality publication of Greendale Community College

This issue's hot topics:

The REDSTREET SMACKDOWN: Greendale students' midnight brawls and mega bans

Leaked: timeline travel method: Vent, vent, voom?

1st Horrors Humans Answers

Notices we had to put in or the paper wouldn't run this week

THE REDSTREET SMACKDOWN

The owner of the popular bar on L Street has said it will be permanently banning all the Greendalians involved in the brawl late last night. 

The numerous bans follow a review of the situation which identified them all as equally responsible for the damages, losses and brutal attack of the bartender on shift that night.

Allegedly, the bartender, who came from the night with a severe black eye and several cuts, has also been banned as well as being fired outright. 

Separately, another bartender, ‘Jean’, has said he didn’t witness the entire event, just the final moments where they all "acted as part of the group". 

Other witnesses suggested a redheaded girl with ‘too many darn piercings’ was ‘vicious’ in her screaming match and was the one who took the first swing. 

An on scene reporter wrote that the bartender on shift argued back equally as viciously and threatened the crowd to take further action. All in all the row was said to have lasted no more than five minutes and yet the effects of it would cost the owner greatly. Our reporter counted a total of eight present during the dispute. This included Greendales’ own Troy Barnes, Abed Nadir and Vanessa Wright. It’s suggested that the others were also students but they were unable to be identified at the time. 

Total damages are said to be cash register breakages, several broken glasses and dents on a couple of chairs. The assailants also stole several bottles of wine and two shot glasses. 

Redstreet’s owner claimed he will not be pressing any charges on this occasion. He commented “if i went apeshit on every stupid drunken fool, I’d never have time to actually run the damn bar. It’s all show business.” 

He also told the team that Redstreet is opening a ‘Tapas Tuesday with ten percent taken (off the total price of the order, not including discounts and other offers and limited only to tuesdays)’ All are welcome except the blacklisted, including the newly banned assailants of last night. 

Leaked: ‘timeline travel method’, Vent, vent, voom?

Sources have suggested that the more surefire way to travel between the ‘timelines’ are by crawling through Greendale’s vents.

The ‘timelines’ themselves were discovered late last year upon the discovery of the ‘other timeline’, (also been dubbed the ‘superior timeline’ by some) rendering this the ‘prime timeline’. It was quickly realised by the sci-fi society members, namely one ‘Abed Nadir’ that there are possibly infinite other timelines out there. It was also discovered that Tumblr is a rare medium through which all the timelines are able to converge. 

While many claim to have undertaken this method to travel between them, the Gazette Journal Mirror stresses that this is still hearsay, and has yet to be directly confirmed by the paper. 

Although, with this new information to light, we urge you to keep a keen eye for the evil timeliners who have been sighted around campus and tumblr alike! 

Horrors Humans Answers 

hi! i have a crush on a girl, and i know she's gay, or at least queer, and she's been dropping some hints, but then sometimes she also says we're just friends and does friend-zone-y kind of stuff, and i'm not sure what to think or to do. please send help!

- angel lover

ANSWER: Hey, Angel Lover! This horrors human knows exactly how you feel! The lovesick feeling is bittersweet. But hang tight! Here’s my advice. Scenario One: You bite the bullet and just ask her out, you never know the outcome until you try - and as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Scenario Two: You ask a mutual friend if you know who she likes! That’s a sure way to know if it’s you, or someone else. Horrors Human wishes you the best of luck!

what’s the deal with the dude hanging in the east stairwell - scared student

ANSWER: Hi there, Scared Student! I’m here to say - Fear Not! You’re probably seeing things. Have you been eating funny brownies recently? There’s no one hanging in the east stairwell, silly! There’s no one there, see? No one there. No one there. No one there at all. anymore. In fact, we’re going to put a nice new vending machine right there next week! Enjoy! 

How to stop having gay thoughts -person in a study group who totally isn’t gay

ANSWER: Hello, Study Grouper! Sounds like you’ve got a classic case of denial. Though this may be tricky for you to come to terms with, my advice here would not be to try and stop yourself from having these thoughts but to take a step back and allow them to be there. Indulge yourself a little! Perhaps there’s a celebrity you’ve never openly admitted to liking, or maybe you’ve got a crush you flirt with? Get comfortable with yourself, Study Grouper! 

Notices (we had to put this in because otherwise they wouldn't let us run the paper this week)

GREENDALE’S THEATRE DEPARTMENT:  We are excited to announce their upcoming performance, ‘Anti Death Macbeth’, the tickets of which will be going on sale this Friday from the drama studio and reception. Don’t miss it. This will not be an ado about nothing! 

TEACHERS PAY: INTERVIEW WITH THE DEAN TO BE PUBLISHED SHORTLY.

NON-GLUTEN FREE RUMOURS: ‘Who on earth would trick people into eating bread with gluten in it?' Greendale's head chef and meal planner commented, insisting on speaking directly from rehab. And there you have it, human beings! We’re here to remind you that, no matter the rumours, the cafeteria’s Gluten-Free bread is indeed gluten-free!

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Mod, I have a genuine question and I mean this in the least disrespectful way possible.

What were you going through while creating Kuripa? Cause you have to be the most deranged person in the world to come up with a character like this.

//Originally I planned on doing a full-length character analysis of Kuripa, but kind of wanted to save doing any more mod talks for when I was less busy, but I can give you some points now and then maybe reiterate them later.

//Kuripa is a moral quandary of a character. He's fucked in the head, and willingly admits that, but he is generally still on the side of good. He just has an obsession with justice and vengeance that drives him to commit atrocities and spill copious amounts of blood.

//When you boil it down and get to the roots, he comes from a good place. The reason he kills is because he figures that someone has to in order to rid the world of evil, but at the same, he doesn't want that responsibility to be pushed onto anyone that doesn't deserve it. Likewise, when he falls into despair, there's no stopping him, as you've just seen today.

//In terms of my overall thoughts, I wanted Kuripa to be different from every other DR protagonist that came before him, especially the ones that are also on the blog. And I don't know if anybody else has ever noticed it, but I kind of take to extreme in the sense that everything Kuripa embodies as a character, in ideals and in terms of actions is the COMPLETE ANTITHESIS to EVERY other DR protagonist.

//Makoto usually embodies ideas of Hope, and how that no matter what happens to you, life keeps moving on and you can find a way to move on with it, even if it means you have to rely on others. Kuripa on the other hand is mostly a lone wolf despite his dedication to Makoto, and thrives in situations where he's either feeling, or causing, Despair for his enemies. He's emotionally damaged to his core and has been for a long time to the point where it's questionable whether he can even be saved or redeemed.

//Hajime and by extension his friends embody the idea of moving on from the past and creating a better future for yourself, but Kuripa can't do that. He's stuck in the past, unable to move on from the death of his sister, and has spent so many years of his already short life hunting Matta with the intent to murder him, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, all from this one obsession.

//Kaede and Shuichi embody truth and how even if it's scary, it's important to understand reality as it is, and face it to better yourself. Kuripa however is a capsule of deceit, manipulation and lies at his absolute worst, and still hides many secrets about his life even now.

//And as I mentioned in the Toko analysis I did, Ultra Despair Girls' unspoken theme is Companionship VS Solitude, with Toko and Komaru's companionship being a key factor of their story and their progression as characters. Meanwhile, we literally had an ENTIRE ARC about Kuripa (and Uchui) turning their back on and betraying the people they love to suit their own interests and motivations.

//Now, I love writing Kuripa, he's hands down my favorite on the blog, but I'm not going to outwardly defend any of his actions because that's not the point. Everybody knows he's messed up, and even he's aware that he's broken and unfixable, so he just rolls with it.

//Early on, quite possibly the biggest inspiration for Kuripa's character was Goro Akechi from Persona 5, a character who is in a very similar situation, having suffered a lot in the past and spent his entire life obsessed with revenge, letting it shape him into the monster that he became. A story as tragic as it is pitiful.

-Mod

[xxdoubledaisyxx]

You think Nick is not confident and assume I am jealous of your artistic success. I am not. You are jealous of my military success. Fact. That's the Truth of the Order the Lord Most High in all of Creation. You thought I was jealous of you... good goddess, look at me? Why should I be jealous of anyone? I have you, for all eternity. We are one and inseperable in true love. I will never be jealous of another person, especially not a man, and never was. Not once. This is how it is! Tell your ethnographer who tries to manipulate Jew narratives for the most evil god damn ignorant reasons, to read about my ethnic group instead. It would do her more favors in the end by being a worthwhile use of her skills. So, Katie Neal, let me point out that your CTN job is nothing more than a nice comfy birdcage for a little princess to be kept in a safe tower somewhere until she can be used to manipulate another person again with her ignorance and vanity as a self-absorbed mutilating freak whore. My career in the military, the first half before you met me at the end of the second half, was more significant and extensive in experiences and fun cool shit than yours has been the entire time. That's why your smugness in your job is misplaced. You are a fake. A pretend job to make people feel good like you who want to feel good about bullying others with mutilation and circumcision lies you force on people with no thoughts about their lives or culture. That's a problem. Notice how I can totally empathize with Jews and Pagans and anyone else. Why can't you? That's merely being human. If you are unable to, you are more like a cat, which is superior among animals, but nothing near a human being who should not have problems with that. She judged me a lesser person than her because of my sexual appetites when we were fooling around. The stupid cunt had no idea how vile and inhumane she was being. We didn't last long after that and she complained about it hurting that I didn't care, and I didn't care. She is obviously a lesser person for being all lovey dovey and then twisting that experience around like a knife to try and manipulate the person who seduced her, not the other way around. She never had any power over me. Do you remember when I sold you my boat? You judged me again? Who the fuck are you!? Oh, a stupid rich person, ignorant of Jesus Christ and worshipper of Hitler! A mutilated freak whore of the greatest evil proportions!!!! Hilarious. I can't believe I came across one and made her fall in love with me forever!!!! Never, bitch. Never. I will spell it out for you, you filthy inbred nazi whore and mutilator freak slave: if you knew the gospel of Jesus Christ, you would not ever have sided with the people you did or concluded that circumcision was necessary. Thus, you don't know Jesus Christ. You are a liar to everyone and yourself. You are nobody. People other than me know what a nobody like you is. Those are not to be allowed to live, as they are a danger to society. Their poor judgment and witchcraft violates the sanctity of homes and houses in neighborhoods and that is illegal. They are not allowed to do that. Their activities can be traced and proven with or without modern tech, and they should be minding their own business, which is the basic statute of the law. Menacing citizens, intimidating neighbors, gossiping maliciously... those are in fact crimes and you can probably be arrested for any of them. When I am godemperor, you can be beheaded for those crimes and that is mandatory under pain of decapitation.

[okaysonny]

business advice ╏ hudson ahn

★ summary: hudson gets a noise complaint ─ from one person.

★ details: fluff, f! reader, spoiler free.

★ wc: 1.4k

★ A/N: who else has a crush on him

"YOU! YELLOW HEAD!"

hudson's eyes widen, looking around.

but no, jay isn't here. and everyone else has dark hair. which can only mean…

hudson turns to face the girl approaching him, who looks comically angry. he can practically see steam coming out of her ears.

his eyes narrow. "are you talking to me?"

she's now right in front of him, pointing aggressively. "yeah i'm talking to you! don't you own this place?" she gestures to ansan's night club just ahead of them.

"i do. are you here to talk business? although…" he eyes her hoodie and sweatpants. "…you don't really look the part"

she blinks, not expecting a belittling so soon, but quickly shakes her head. "no i'm not here to talk business" she mimics his voice at the 'business' part. hudson feels a vein on his forehead throb.

"you need to turn the music down at night!" she huffs. "i can hear it from my window…" she points at an apartment building in the distance. "…all the way over there! some of us are trying to sleep, y'know?!"

he waits to see if she's finished her piece, before simply saying:

"0 points"

she blinks again. "…the fuck?"

"0 points. that's the score i give you. one…" he starts counting on his fingers. "…you show up sloppy. two. you disrespect me. and three. you start complaining about music when we're doing nothing wrong. where's your decorum?"

"...what- you-" she stammers, clearly speechless at his obviously correct evaluation.

she grits her teeth in frustration. "you wanna talk about decorum? it's not very um…decorum of you to play such loud music in the night!"

he sighs in disappointment. "bad grammar too. - 1 point"

"who gives a fuck?! now you're just nitpicking! and tell your employees to turn the music down!"

"…you're the only one complaining. why should i lower it for one person?"

she pauses, unable to think of a counterargument. "…um…"

hudson doesn't wait for her to finish. "ansan is critically acclaimed for its nightlife. it's what everyone comes here for. the loud music, which isn't even that loud by the way, is to be expected. if you don't like it, then move"

her jaw drops. "you…you ignorant, naive little─" she exhales slowly, composing herself.

"…can you just please turn it down?" she mumbles.

he runs a hand through his hair, getting tired of this argument now. "…like i said, you're the only one complaining. i'm assuming you didn't take this higher up, right? so, i have no obligation to lower it. come back with a court order and then we'll talk"

she sighs in defeat and starts walking back, flipping him off. "fine! but this isn't over, yellow head! i'll be back with that court order!"

hudson shrugs. "go ahead"

she can try, but it won't make a difference. channing can wrap anyone around his finger.

he shakes his head, heading back into the club. what an unsophisticated lady.

he hears her footsteps stop. "…your drinks are crap, by the way"

hudson hates that he can't hide his surprise, but the comment catches him off guard. "…what?"

she clearly notices it, because she wears an evil grin before continuing. "well…my friend likes to go clubbing a lot. she likes everything here, except the drinks"

now it's his turn to blink. well…the drink sales have been down lately. but everything else is in tip-top shape. he just put it down as an anomaly in the market.

he waves a hand dismissively, recovering from his brief surprise. "we take great care in analysing these things. we know what we’re doing. not that i'd expect you to understand"

she rolls her eyes and looks away for a moment. "...i'm not saying i know how to run a business or whatever. i’m just saying...my friend complains about the drinks all the time. and not just her ─ her other little clubbing friends say the same thing"

hudson tilts his head slightly, her words starting to pique his interest despite himself. "...what do her and her friends say?"

she shrugs. "i dunno. i don't really pay attention. she just says they’re kind of…boring, i guess? same old classics, nothing new or exciting. um…" she pauses, trying to remember. "oh yeah! seltzer's. they wish you had seltzer's here"

a flicker of curiosity crosses his face. "...seltzer's? you mean..."

"yeah, like the fruity, canned drinks everyone’s obsessed with these days" she speaks with less hesitance now.

"i work night shifts at the convenience store nearby, so i see what people like...and it matches up. everyone loves them. so i dunno, maybe there’s something to it"

he doesn’t respond, his mind starting to piece things together.

it's bizarre. they were just arguing a few minutes ago. now they're discussing alcoholic beverages.

she looks at him cautiously before continuing. "and uh...customers buy soju obviously, but they take a lot of fruit to go with it. strawberries and watermelon, stuff like that. it seems trendy these days. do you do soju cocktails?"

...they don't.

hudson stays quiet, arms crossed as he processes her words. she's not an expert, but she isn’t completely off the mark.

he hadn’t considered the problem might be the drinks themselves. ansan had always stuck with the classics, assuming they’d appeal to everyone, and it's worked for ages.

but maybe tastes were shifting. if soju cocktails and seltzers - which they didn't sell - were in demand...it could be worth researching what else customers like. lighter, trendier options…freshening up the menu could attract a whole new crowd, even boost overall sales.

the girl sighs, annoyed by his lack of response. "anyway, sorry. i went off on a tangent. keep serving whatever you want"

she turns, walking away again. "but i was serious about that court order, yellow head!"

hudson closes his eyes, feeling irritated. how has this not crossed his mind before? why does this random girl in sweatpants unknowingly know more than him?

her words stay in his head, and hudson knows he won’t be able to let it go.

"...wait" he says, sighing.

she turns around once more, her brows raising in confusion.

he pinches his nose bridge, preparing himself for what he's about to say. "that was...helpful. i suppose i could ask my guys to...turn the music down"

she stares at him, taken aback, before smiling. not the weird evil grin she wore earlier, a real one. "...you will? seriously? i just...really need some quiet, so i can study"

huh. "...yes" he says, a bit softly.

her smile grows wider, flashing her teeth at him. "wow...thanks a lot. really. i know it's a nuisance for you, yellow he-" she pauses, looking sheepish. "hey, what's your real name? i'll stop calling you yellow head now"

"hudson ahn...sun of ansan"

weird. he's talked to plenty of girls, all of them more beautiful than she is. why are his cheeks heating up now?

"...sun of ansan?" she covers her mouth, perhaps trying to stifle a laugh. "that's...cool"

"what's yours?" he can't help but avoid eye contact.

she looks pleasantly surprised. "me? i'm─"

─ beautiful. her name is beautiful. she is beau─ actually, what's he even thinking? is central seoul's romantic guy rubbing off on him?

hudson rummages in his pocket, handing her a business card. "here. it's my contact details. just in case you want to...point out anything else you notice"

she eyes it peculiarly, before shaking her head in disbelief. "i guess all business guys just have these handy, huh?"

still, she doesn't give it back, or tells him to get lost, or rips it up. instead, she keeps it.

she turns and starts walking away ─ for the final time. she looks back at him, waving the card as she speaks. "bye hudson ahn sun of ansan" she giggles. so, she was in fact, laughing at his title.

he watches her figure get smaller, the tiny dot turning into nothing.

a girl giving him business advice...and it's useful? he never thought he'd see the day.

he only saw her smile once, but he wouldn't mind seeing it again.

hudson heads back into the club, getting preparations ready for the night ahead.

she still lacks etiquette. she also giggled at the title he's so proud of. but...that doesn't stop him from muttering to himself.

"100 points"

A/N: okay...i know his hair is more light brown than yellow, but "brown head" doesn't have the same ring to it. just imagine...the sunlight makes it seem yellow, because he's the sun of ansan bye

divider: @strangergraphics

[cathedral-of-sinners]

Play Time!

Kinktober Day 7 - Sex Toys + Tartaglia

Genre: Smut (MDNI)

CW: sub!reader, gn!reader (no pronouns/genitalia mentioned), petnames (baby, dear, darling, sweetheart), ONE (1) use of slut, brief praise, orgasm denial, a little aftercare, wearable vibrators, public sex, swearing, teasing(?), dirty talk, use of Childe's real name

a/n: Apologies for the late publish but I was unfortunately busy during the end of September and the first little bit of October (not to mention lack of motivation) so I'm only getting to Day 1 - 14 now. Not to worry, all days will be posted eventually! It’s just a matter of when and in what order lol.

Regardless, I hope this is at least decent! I'm new to writing full on smut so I'm really sorry if it's not the best!

Your eyes widen in horror, watching as Childe goes to speed up the vibe. The new level of stimulation has your hips shifting, legs twitching. Oh, how you wish to buck your hips, just to feel a sliver of friction. Alas, the audience of patrons around you prevents you from doing such.

“Is something the matter dear?” You hear his tease more than anything, unable to bring yourself to lift your head from its spot in your hands, instead opting to act like you're shifting into a more comfortable position. The minimal relief it gave was enough to hold on to the last bit of control you had. All you can do now is hope to finish this dinner date ASAP.

“Pardon me, but are you alright?” The sudden appearance of your waiter shocked you into straightening up. Archons, this was the last thing you needed. Through the haze of lust you compose yourself, hoping that you're able to sell the lie.

How foolish you are to think he wouldn't use this to his advantage, milking it for all it can be. What an evil, evil man the ginger in front of you is, turning up the speed again. "I'm alright, I just- ngh!"

The reaction to the new wave of vibrations was unavoidable and you end up hunching over, barely suppressing a moan. The waiter begins to spew worry after worry, but you pay no mind to them. The only thing you can focus on is the innocent smile Childe gives you across the table as he leans his cheek onto his propped up hand. Cheeky bastard. Well, then you suppose he deserves a nudge between the legs himself.

You were able to bump your target, the smile wiped clean off his face and to be replaced by one of shock and barely contained lust. It was all worth it until a dangerous glint sparkled in his eyes. You’d pay dearly for your actions later…You got bigger fish to fry though, because if you didn't act now the whole restaurant would surly look your way.

Managing to bullshit some excuse about an upset stomach while stifling a whimper, Childe took this as his cue. Standing from his own chair he feigned concern as he placed a hand on your elbow and shoulder, convincing those around he would take care to escort you home. However, not a street away and the male has you pushing up against an alley wall, back pressing against the cold stone as his lips meet yours feverishly.

"Bravo," he teases, kissing along your jaw and up to your ear, "what a marvelous performance you put on for me. I was worried we'd be caught, but you managed to keep it together. As always, you do not disappoint." You gasp at the feeling of his hot tongue licking a straight line, nearly buckling to the ground if not for the the knee he's situated between your legs.

As your lover works to mark and bruise any skin he can reach, Childe dips a hand under your waistband, skillfully unclipping the toy just enough to move it aside. “Don’t fail on me now sweetheart,” he whispers. The dangerous tone his voice held was all you needed to let you know you were in for it now. No mercy would be served to you - you were going to get fucked here and now.

As he touched you like he’s done so many times before a breathy chuckle tickles your ear, shivers running down your spine. “Look how turned on you are for me. Were you that excited at the opportunity of someone finding out?” Yes is what you confess to yourself, but can’t voice it even if you wanted to. Not with how his thumb relentlessly circles your most sensitive spot, or with how the rest of his fingers toy with another part of your sex.

“Answer me darling.”

“Y-yes, I liked it. Fuck I really liked it!” you gasp, bucking your hips into his hand. With the nonstop toy usage you’re already close, so fucking close.

Satisfied with your answer, Childe hums, hand retreating and leaving you high but far from dry. Whining, any complaint dies on your tongue at the swift tug of your clothes, stripping you of any fabric that separate him from your twitching hole. The sudden coolness of the night air felt nice on your hot skin, but even more so on your throbbing sex.

Collecting your arousal, Childe flips you around so you’re facing the wall, spreading your slick along your opening, fingering and scissoring you hastily before lining up the tip of his cock. “You ready?”

You babble out a flurry of ‘yes’s and ‘please’s, eager to finally feel him. You're more than ready, you've been ready for some time now.

Something between a sigh of relief and a pleasured moan slips past your lips when he final pushes in, the sounds of sin echoing faintly in the vacant alley. With the burning flame set alight in you both finally being tended to, all care about someone catching wind of your naughty deeds flies out the window.

"You feel so good, so tight for me darling." Childe breathes, leaning and hooking his arms around your waist as he sets a brutal pace, slamming his hips against yours with renewed vigore. It’s the need to feel you wrapped tight like a glove around his cock that’s taking hold of all rational. "So, so good, playing along with my fantasies so willingly. Naughty slut."

Somewhere in the throes of pleasure your eyes slipped shut, focusing on nothing else but how nicely Childe's dick stretched you, rubbing against that sweet spot deep within and then some, how his balls would slap against your skin with ever particularly rough thrust.

Archons, you're all for tender and romantic moments but there’ll always be a special place for fucks like this in your heart. Even on cool nights like this these devilish acts keep you pleasantly warm and heart a flutter.

The next handful of minutes are a blur of intoxicating pleasure, and with no signs of the ginger slowing down you're certain the long anticipated climax is just around the corner.

Picking up the telltale signs, Childe pipes up, “you gonna cum baby?” Unable to manage words you nod vigorously, the beginning of tears pricking your eyes.

All in one go the fast rhythm slows down a couple notches to practically nothing. It’s enough to give you whiplash. Turns out what you though was a precursor to permission was actually what led you to losing that high. The first cohesive thought in a while that filters through your mind is that Childe isn’t going to let you cum at all. That… that is a fearful thought: after all that build up no less!?

"A-Ajax? What are you do-ah!-doing?" You manage to ask, though something tells you you already know what he's up to. What else could he be doing just out of eye sight other than reaching for the forgotten vibe?

"Well, I have to punish you for that little stunt you pulled before." he replies, continuing to keep you on edge. You're not really sure you can take anymore abusing from the tiny toy but nevertheless let him clip it back into place. The second it's turned back on you're jerking back into his hips, an unrestrained moan spilling out. There's no way it went unheard.

"Close, 'jax, 'm close. Please let me - let me cum this time, please!"

He laughs, something close to the one he lets out in the midst of an interesting conversation or high stakes battle. At the same time his cock twitches inside you. Unbelievably sexy, it shoots pleasure right to your core. It only dawns fully right then that he’s getting off on your suffering. “Alright,” is all he gives, picking up in his bruising pace once more, spearing you on his cock. If the twitching you feel is anything to go by you’d put your mora on Ajax growing close to his end too.

He’s a man on a mission now.

Reaching below he presses the vibrator further again you as he pounds away, determined to make you cum hard. Slurring of his name fall from your lips as you work to meet his thrusts, the knot in your stomach almost at its limit.

As you twitch around his length, Ajax goads you on, the final push you needed, “that’s right baby, let go and cum for me.”

And it snaps, your climax finally achieved just as Ajax slams into you one final time, stilling his hips as he lets his hot cum paint your insides. Only after he’s sure he’s emptied every last drop from his balls does he move again. Play time’s over.

Sliding his cock free from it's confines, Ajax keeps you steady on your feet much like earlier. This time though there was care in his touch as he fixed your clothes, switching off the toy completely. Pressing tender kisses to your temple, your lover gives you a moment before slowly guiding you both home. As you pass by the unaware, Childe occasionally asks if there was anything you need the moment you got home - water, a bath, anything and it's yours.

Though when you smile and decline, reassuring him that you're all good, you made the mistake of joking that you could even go for another round. And you realize this, but the dark tone that swirls in his eyes tells you you can’t take it back.

"Oh? Then don't think we're done sweetheart. When we get home you're really in for it. Clear your schedule for tomorrow because I don't intend to let you go at all tonight."

Tag list: @rain-soaked-sun @stygianoir @the-purity-pen @londonstylesxx

[logicalbookthief]

Christmas Movies Ranked by How Anti-Capitalist They Are

It’s a Wonderful Life

Movies that make you want to pick a fight with the 1% and also weep with joy. Absolutely a classic and anti-capitalist at its very core. Will convince you we need to start oppressing landlords again.

“Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about... they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn't think so. People were human beings to him. But to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they're cattle.”

SAY THAT!!! George Bailey said fuck landlords, all my homies hate landlords, they have NO rights. Local man believes poor people are human, dedicates his life to helping them, and in his time of the need literally the whole town comes together to support him and his family. Class solidarity ftw!

“Remember no man is a failure who has friends.” Bitch I CRY EVERY GODDAMN TIME. 

10/10

Home Alone

Soundtrack goes hard, the wacky hijinks even harder. 

Loses points because the bandits had a prime opportunity to seize and redistribute some of the wealth from this ritzy Chicago neighborhood and instead they focus their energy on trying to kill an 8-year-old who outsmarts them at every turn.

2/10

Elf

A family favorite in our house. Touches on the overworking and mistreatment of employees through Greenway Press – Walter forced to choose between being with his family on Christmas Eve or losing his job, it’s implied Deb has a pet grooming business on the side to makes ends meet despite being a receptionist at a NY publishing company, etc.

Honestly most of the points come from Jonie’s underrated yet highly relatable storyline. She works in retail, exhausted and cynical towards the high-paced Christmas season which gives her little to no relief or reward, since she’s surviving on ramen noodles and using the employee showers because her water was cut off. Not expanded on enough to be considered a true Marxist piece but the effort is appreciated.

5/10

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Although the meme is correct in that Rudolph’s red nose becomes desirable only once it proves to be useful, it does get points for exposing the harmful nature of forced conformity and those alienated by these capitalist ideals -- Rudolph, Hermie, the island of misfit toys -- are given a place to belong despite the perceived “flaws” that before made them undesirable.

Also the elves definitely have a free dental-plan now thanks to Hermie and are hopefully on their way to unionizing. Fucking superb you funky little misfit.

6/10

Klaus (2019)

Turns a member of the bourgeoisie into a man I’d trust to carry my mail. Respect for postal workers this movie contains was ahead of its time.

 No direct takedown of the establishment but a heartwarming message -- “A true selfless act always sparks another” bITCH I may be crying -- that emphasizes the importance of giving to others even when there is no selfish motivation to do so, which is inherently anti-capitalist.  

8/10

The Santa Clause

Scott Calvin starts as a toy executive who takes part in the commercialization of Christmas. He was probably a business major so automatically loses points.

The Santa dynasty itself seems to operate under the cutthroat rules of the business world where you must overthrow (or in this case, throw him off the roof) the former CEO in order to seize power. 

Elves have not unionized or seized the means of production by the end.

0/10

A Christmas Carol 

THE ORIGINAL. Charles Dickens was not even in the neighborhood of fucking around with this one. CREATED the anti-capitalist Christmas genre!!

Rich man treats his employees like shit and gets terrorized by three ghosts on Christmas Eve. Force him to redistribute his wealth by dragging him through a montage of his most epic fails -- oh, hey, remember when your fiancé left you? -- and make him listen as all his employees and relatives complain about his stingy ass. 

They end this slideshow by throwing this dude into his own grave. DIRECT ACTION. 

Like damn, the ghosts really said, “If you hoard your resources and ignore those in need when you could directly improve/save lives with no cost to yourself, you will die ALONE and you WILL pay for your crimes in hell.” Literally watching this movie is a catharsis for anyone who is or has been poor and working class. 

I’m including all versions of this movie but a special shout out to the Muppet version because it fucks the hardest. 

100/10

How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

Listen I’m not even in realms of joking with this one. This movie is THE anti-capitalist film of the holiday season. 

WhoVille commercializing Christmas and a fixation on consumer culture to the point where anything and anyONE who cannot be commodified -- aka the GRINCH -- is alienated? The Whos rediscovering that people should be cherished over material items once it all is stolen and they must confront how empty the holiday has become??

Cindy Lou becoming disillusioned in Christmas -- at an age that coincides when many children (those who celebrate Christmas at least) lost belief in Santa and had to wrestle with what the holiday means with the magic gone and they’re more aware of the rampant consumerism that taints the season?? Her resolve to find a meaning that goes beyond material consumption because if a holiday founded on goodwill doesn’t extend that goodwill to everyone, even those society deems undesirable, then what’s the point???

The Grinch despising Christmas because he is unable to participate and isolated from the Whos and also the better qualities within himself? His alienation serving to demonize him further as it allows the public to narrow his valid criticisms of the holiday down to him being different and thus inherently predisposed to evil?? And hmm isn’t it interesting that a LOT of this demonization comes via Mayor Augustus “generously paid for by the tax-payers of Whoville” Maywho, Mr. 1% himself.

The upper vs working class divide evident in the light show competition between Martha May and Betty Lou Who?? The opening scene of the shopping frenzy that mirrors our own consumerist culture and overworking of retail/poster workers??? This entire monologue:

“That's what it's all about, isn't it? That's what it's always been about. Gifts, gifts... gifts, gifts, gifts, gifts, gifts! You wanna know what happens to your gifts? They all come to me. In your garbage. You see what I'm saying? In your garbage. I could hang myself with all the bad Christmas neckties I found at the dump. And the avarice... the avarice never ends! ‘I want golf clubs. I want diamonds. I want a pony so I can ride it twice, get bored and sell it to make glue.’" 

MARXIST KING. MENTION IT ALL.

1000/10

[silversatoru]

play-thing — part one

gojo satoru x getou suguru x f!reader

t/w: nsfw 18+, dark content, drugging, manipulation, noncon/dubcon, oral (f!receiving), nipple play, this story contains very dark themes so please do not read it you’re sensitive to any of these topics

synopsis: suguru and satoru are missing something in their lives, and who better to manipulate than an lonely, impressionable girl who just moved to tokyo from another city. they’re willing to take extreme measures to transform you into their perfectly submissive little play-thing. 

wc: 1.9k

suguru and satoru do everything together; live in the same house, work at the same company, even share a closet of the most expensive clothes, but something was missing. they both felt it, the empty space between them, and they were determined to find the perfect piece to fill the gaping hole in their lives.

and you practically fell right into the palm of their hands, in a local grocery store of all places. a pretty little thing with a freshly broken heart who’d just moved here from a neighboring city. no friends, no family nearby, anxious and impressionable and desperately in need of a couple capable men to show her around. it all started with an innocent question: “hey, sorry to bother you guys, but could you tell me where the baking aisle is?”

how you ended up here you still weren't quite sure. 

“let us take you on a tour of the city tonight,” satoru had cooed at you.

“there’s a few really nice bars, we could grab some drinks,” suguru added, both their voices smooth and terrifyingly persuasive.

but they seemed nice enough, and you weren't in any position to be picky with making friends right now — after all, you’d have to get accustomed to the city somehow, right?

wear something pretty, satoru had winked at you before you parted ways and continued your shopping, and for some reason you were very inclined to do as he said. they were both intimidatingly attractive and you weren’t exactly sure what their dynamic was yet, but you decided that if you ended up in bed with one of them tonight, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

you’d chosen a short and silky black dress, something elegant but classic that would absolutely catch the eyes of both men. and it did, satoru’s eyes glazing over your body several times before he even bothered to say hello to you. suguru was less obvious, his dark eyes giving you a quick once-over before giving you a warm smile and wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the three of you entered the first bar.

it was small, dimly lit with a few lanterns and packed tight with people. a little too crowded for your level of comfort, so you stuck closely to the sides of suguru and satoru as they led you deeper into the pub. the dark-haired male gestured towards an empty seat at the end of the countertop, the two of them standing on either side of you after you slid into it. satoru spoke with an impressive level of charisma, ordering three of the same drink from the bartender — who he seemed to know quite well.

taking a few sips of the liquor did wonders for you initial anxiety, and the casual conversation with both men was helping you to settle in as well. 

so, where are you from? 

what made you want to move to tokyo?

what do you do for a living? 

you were painfully oblivious to how the conversation stayed entirely centered around you; you still hadn’t learned anything about the two men, but they were learning everything about you. 

an hour or so in, a warm dizziness began to swirl around the inside of your head, slowly exacerbating until you felt like you were about to tumble out of your seat. you’d only had a couple drinks, and you normally handled your alcohol fairly well, so why did you feel absolutely sloshed right now? 

“guys, i think maybe-” you turned towards your two tour guides and crashed forward into suguru’s chest without warning. 

“think you went a little heavy, toru?” he scooped his hands under your plump ass and lifted your unconscious body into his muscularly arms. 

“not my fault she has no tolerance,” satoru shrugged, throwing some cash on the counter, “might be easier with her like this anyway”. 

“i suppose,” suguru clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “stupid girl, didn’t your parents teach you not to trust strangers so easily?”

the two of them casually made their way out of the bar together, making jokes about how poorly you handle your liquor to anyone who gave them a questionable look — but the bar was so loud and jam-packed with people that they made it out without any incident.

you were slow to come out of your sleepy haze, head nodding up and down as you struggled to maintain consciousness and take in the scenery around you. in a futile attempt to brush some hair out of your face you realized your hands were tightly secured behind your back. panic immediately flooded your system, chest tightening and hot tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. 

“just a precaution, angel,” suguru came walking into your hazy vision, a warm smile on his face as he tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ears, “how are you feeling?” 

“wha-, whaaat happen- ed?” your words were garbled, your brain barely able to form them. 

“don’t worry about it,” satoru appeared next to suguru, “you just drank a little too much, but we’ll take good care of you, won’t we suguru?” 

“of course, no need for you to worry about anything anymore,” he gave an affirmative nod. 

“i don’t think-” you wracked your brain for any recollection of what had happened tonight, but you found nothing, “i don’t th- think i — understand”. 

“you will soon,” satoru flashed a bright smile, but it wasn’t nearly as inviting as the first time you saw it. this time it was eerie, evil, threatening — what exactly was he talking about? 

your brain was quickly turning to absolute mush, your vision getting darker and foggier than it already was as you tried to hang on to the sound of their voices.

just relax

we’re gonna make you feel good, you wanna feel good, princess?

you want us to make you feel better?

“mhm,” you gave them a slow nod. you did want them to make you feel better! you felt groggy and confused and nauseas! so of course you said yes! that is what they were asking? right?

you felt the bed shift around you, several hands tracing over your skin and gently pushing you onto your back. you tried to question them, tried to form the words, but your brain was unable to produce a single word or movement at this point.

a hot tongue connected with the side of your neck, lips latched onto the skin and sucking gently on the sensitive area. another mouth was on your inner thigh, sucking a little harder and undoubtedly leaving a small marking. you subconsciously let out a squeaky, shaky breath, the warmth of their tongues eliciting a response in your doped-up body.

goosebumps raked through your body when you felt a pair of slender fingers slip under your dress and brush over the thin material of your panties. it was satoru, his middle and index fingers prodding at your clothed cunt and sending jolts through your legs. meanwhile suguru continued to cover your neck in sloppy kisses, one of his large hands groping at your covered breasts.

your brain had gone numb, from the drugs, the confusion, the terribly intoxicating pleasure. you hated how clueless you were, how useless your body was right now, but what you hated most of all was that you weren’t even trying to fight back. their touch felt good — too good for you to ask them to stop.

it wasn’t long before satoru’s fingers were replaced with his mouth, his tongue running up and down the fold in your panties and absolutely soaking the material with his saliva. he groaned from the taste, getting just as much pleasure from this as you were. he was quick to push the fabric to the side, sliding his tongue against your sticky folds with hunger and urgency. he lapped at your cunt, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue and evoking a series of twitches from your lazy body.

“be gentle with her” suguru’s voice sounded far off in the distance as he mumbled into your chest.

satoru heeded to the other man’s instructions, slowing his pace and going more gentle on your sensitive, puffy clit. suguru found your hardened nipples through your thin dress, rolling them in his fingers and enhancing the already blissful feeling you were getting from satoru’s tongue.

the two of them working together was incomprehensibly euphoric, your stomach coiling into tight knots with each swipe of his tongue. without warning he dove even deeper, his tongue shooting into your cunt while his nose rubbed against your throbbing bundle of nerves. between that and suguru giving your nipples a sudden tug, your body was crashing with waves of pleasure — strangled moans and pitiful whimpers the only sounds that your mouth could produce.

it was a near-holy experience, the feeling of the sedatives pumping through your veins as satoru tongued your pussy and suguru massaged your breasts through your heightened orgasm. you felt like you were floating, the room was spinning, and then everything went dark.

a real shame that you wouldn’t be able to remember any of it by the time you woke up.

bright sunlight pierced through your eyelids the following morning, forcing you awake and causing you to jolt up. you were laying in a large bed that was situated at the back of a rather large room, fitted silk sheets cool under your skin. confused of what happened and where you were, you stood from the bed and made your way to the door, feet patting on the soft carpeted floor. 

when you opened the door you entered a long hallway that led to a wide stairway covered in the same fluffy carpeting. two voices were laughing and talking beneath you, and curiosity fueled your motivation to walk down the stairs and into an open-concept kitchen and living room. 

satoru and suguru, the two men from yesterday were busy at the stove, pancakes and bacon sizzling away on two cast-iron pans. they wore matching aprons, suguru’s reading chef daddy, and satoru’s reading mr. good-lookin’ is cookin’. 

who the fuck were these guys?

“feeling better?” suguru was the first to notice you loitering at the edge of the room. 

“yeah, how are you? didn’t picture you to be such a heavy drinker,” satoru laughed, flipping a pancake with grace. 

you didn’t remember much, nothing past sitting down at the bar with them. you weren’t much for getting wasted but you were plagued with more stress than usual lately — maybe you really let yourself go last night. 

“ah, sorry about that, I don’t even remember what i did, honestly,” you shrugged, “thanks for looking out for me though, where’s my stuff?”

“in a hurry to leave? stay for breakfast,” suguru brushed off your question with a captivating smile, his eyes squinting together in the most adorable way. 

“we insist,” satoru chimed in, humming as he continued to focus on the sweet-smelling food. 

and so you stayed, which was probably the worst mistake that you’d made in the past twenty-four hours of countless terrible mistakes. 

part one | part two

a/n: im on a yandere/dark content kick today i cant help it. anyway if u wanna be tagged when i post part two lemme know :) and if u want some yandere megumi go read @katslutski​ ‘s tell me 

(ily kat <33 so happy to have someone to get into very specific obsessions with)

[calcifersfireplaceonao3]

Prompt: Leon and Claire go hangout one night after a hard mission and Leon lets slip how much he loves Claire

This got long 😅

Media: Resident Evil

Ship: Cleon (Claire Redfield/Leon S. Kennedy)

Rating: tentatively Teen, due to mentions of canon typical violence and injuries

Tags: confessing love, hurt/comfort, post RE6

-----

An almost annoying rhythm of knocks raps against his hotel room door and Leon has to chuckle to himself; thirty-six straight hours of running for their lives in a shit situation and Claire somehow still has the energy to be cheeky. When he opens the door she looks equally as exhausted as he feels, comfortable jeans and soft sweater with the rare sight of her hair down barely masking that she seems minutes away from swaying on her feet. But she still showed, just like she always does.

“How’s the shoulder.” He asks and cracks a smile when she makes a face and shrugs with her good arm, moving past him into the room and bringing the clean smell of shampoo with her.

“All good. It took fifteen minutes to fish out the stupid piece of, fucking, whatever that was.” He laughs and she sticks out her tongue, “How are your stitches?”

He taps the outside of his thigh lightly and thumbs up, “Wrapped up nice and tight. I think Hunnigan has told them to punish me when I do something stupid though, the guy sewing me up was very stab happy.”

It’s her turn to laugh at him and he nudges her good shoulder softly. “We still going out? We could always stay here and order pizza or something.”

She sighs in relief dramatically, smoothing her hands over her face before shooting him a grateful smile, “Oh my god yes, junk food and becoming an installation the couch sounds amazing.”

“On it.” Claire busies herself while he orders, nosing through the mini-fridge and laughing at the tiny bottles, eventually surfacing with a sparkling water for him that he wrinkles his nose at and a soda for herself. When he turns to join her in the meager hotel suite ‘sitting’ room, she’s taken off her shoes and light sweater leaving her in a thin camisole resting lightly over the thick bandage around her left shoulder.

“How much does this hurt?” The bandage can’t cover the dark bruises seeping across her skin, the points of her spine highlighted in reds and purples accented with scrapes and nicks. All he can think about is the back of her jacket and how it was nearly shredded, large holes from shrapnel… the one time she doesn’t wear a leather jacket and it's when she needed its protection the most. Gently he sweeps her hair over one shoulder to see everything. Unable to help himself he rests his palm carefully on her skin, to remind himself that she’s still here and relatively safe.

“Well, I won’t be sleeping on my back for a while, that’s for sure. But I’m good, it’ll heal. They gave me some strong painkillers, I’ll be fine.” He doesn’t say anything and she tenses, the muscles under his palm bunching as she sneaks a look at his face.

“You’re going to get sentimental on me, aren’t you.” Claire half jokes and taps his hand where it rests just above the bandage on her shoulder. “Spill it.”

When he can’t find the words she takes his hand and turns, “Leon, seriously. Talk to me about it.”

She lets him find what he wants to say in semi-peace, giving him time, guiding him to sit on the couch with her. He frowns when her back rests too much weight on the rough fabric and she hisses quietly, leaning forward.

“I saw you get tagged and… wow. I don’t know. It was like I couldn’t breathe.” Eventually she breaks the silence, his grace period apparently over as she masterfully cuts right to the heart of it. “I know it was just a graze, but- seeing you get shot… and so close.”

Her hand hovers at his side where his shirt hides the bandage plastered to his ribcage. “Anyway, I didn’t think it would be that hard, you know? We’ve seen each other get hurt before, but I don’t know. I guess that’s something you can’t get used to.”

They don’t have a way of defining exactly what they are, but the years of circling around each other seem to be finally at an end. Enough at least that he feels like it’s okay to card his fingers through her hair and by the way she presses her cheek into his palm and closes her eyes it’s clear his touch isn’t unwelcome.

“You,” his voice comes out low and hollow, surprising them both, “you were caught up in that explosion, and you weren’t answering on comms–”

“Because I was unconscious.” She says, matter-of-fact.

“Yeah. You were unconscious." Leon's not sure there could be much that would be scarier than finding her face down and unresponsive. She was still breathing, and even though he was worried that he was doing more damage moving her, he'd fireman carried her towards a hiding spot and waited anxiously until she'd woken up. Claire has always been tough, whatever grit that seems to be genetic in the Redfields helping her push through almost everything; she'd even helped carry him when a C-virus victim had taken out a good chunk of his leg with their claws and he couldn't run as fast as they needed to.

"This one was a bad one." She says with a small sad smile. "Not sure it could have gone much worse."

We're still alive at least, he thinks and as if she read his mind she says the same thing aloud. Then there's not a lot to talk about because their food is here and they're both ravenous, scarfing down their food while Claire also picks out a movie for them. She loves cheesy horror movies and he loves watching her enjoy them, spending most of the runtime watching her instead, commenting occasionally when he finds something to be particularly stupid and laughing with her.

When it's over her usually bright eyes are losing the fight against exhaustion and should let her go, let her leave to get some well earned sleep.

She doesn't say anything when he lays back and pulls her with him, arranging them so she's not putting any pressure or contact on her back, her weight pinning him in a comforting and grounding way.

"I can stay here." She whispers into his chest, he can feel her smile and waits for whatever she thinks is so funny, "My bathroom looks like I killed someone and I feel very guilty for the housekeeper that is going to have to deal with that. You'd be doing me a solid letting me hide out."

It's a flimsy, stupid excuse, but it makes him laugh anyway. "Oh, if it's just for that reason, I think you can."

"Great, just give me like, five minutes and I'll get up and stop crushing you." The soft puff of air from her laugh when he wraps his arms around her waist to keep her there is something he wants to hear over and over. Her breathing slows and he's suddenly anxious that she may be asleep when he finally has the words for what he's been trying to say for what may well be years now.

"Claire."

"Yeah?" She mumbles.

"I… I was terrified because I couldn't lose you. Not when– not when I hadn't told you," he takes a deep breath and she's holding herself very still, listening intently, "Claire, I'm in love with you. I probably have been for a long time, or at least longer than I realize, I'm sorry it took so long for me to get my shit together and say something. The idea that I almost missed my chance again, only this time it wasn't because of you being with someone else, or my dumb ass not having my head on straight, but because you died…"

Claire pushes up on her good arm to get a good look at his face and he loosens his arms to let her, uncomfortable about spilling his guts like this but knowing that she'll be thoughtful in her answer, whatever it'll be.

"I'm still here." She says, and her other palm is flat against his chest. A warm reminder of her words and her presence. She speaks slowly, carefully choosing her words, "I've been in love with you since those weeks we had with Sherry, I've tried to get over it, get over you since but it's never stuck. I thought we missed it too. Us, I mean. I'm really happy that maybe we haven't."

Her wide smile, almost the same as the one she'd given him all those years ago when they had met back up, separated by a chain link fence, already so loyal and glad to see him. He likes to think of it as his smile, something she saves for him.

She's still smiling when he kisses her gently.

----

For once something not angsty from me in the way of them arguing with each other!

[alto-tenure]

okay so: there are a decent amount of timber fics that pit Tim and Bernard against each other as enemies in some way. some variations of this include Bernard getting possessed, Tim as Joker Junior, or Bernard as a mob heir. but, you know, we are missing one scenario: evil gun Batman.

but this post is not about timber + evil gun batman!tim. this post is about the circumstances that it would take to get Tim to agree to being Batman in the first place, which are many because of our current set of characters. but first, let's discuss our theoretical worldstate.

1) Approximate ages

Tim is 24. Steph is 25, Cass and Jason are both ~26, Dick is like...31?, Duke is 22, and Damian is 18. I don't know how old Babs is in the current canon but we'll assume that she's, like, a couple years older than Dick. Helena Bertinelli (who will matter later in this) is between Dick and Barbara. Bruce is in his 40s and we'll just leave it at that.

2) Hero mantles

It's pretty much what you would expect, but I'll detail a couple things: Cass and Steph are still sharing Batgirl, but Babs has stopped the mantle entirely and is Oracle full-time, as she should be. Damian is still Robin but he's not happy about it and is on the verge of quitting to become someone else/leave Gotham/whatever. Tim is...it's complicated, okay? It's not that Tim doesn't want to be a vigilante. He definitely has a healthy civilian-vigilante life balance! I think right now he's not really patrolling formally, but he does do stuff for the vigilante network that Babs doesn't because she's busy with the Birds of Prey/non-Bat projects she's working on right now and can't keep track of vigilantes in Gotham who aren't the Bats. People like Xanthe, Helena, Claire (Gotham Girl), some non-Duke We Are Robin alumns, etc.

3) Other miscellaneous stuff

Kate is in the Bat-circle, but falls more under Tim's purview of "vigilantes operating out of Gotham who aren't really part of the Batfam" than under Bruce's purview of "Batfam leader". She's still Batwoman, though. Darcy Thomas is still friends with Tim and operating as Sparrow, but with an actual vigilante costume and not just a purple hoodie and a domino mask. Tim operates out of a larger version of the murder houseboat.

Okay, now: why is Tim Batman, again?

Tim does not want to be Batman. This is important. This is also preceded by a giant conga line of tragedies. For this to happen, Dick, Cass, and Bruce all either real-die or fake-die. I imagine Bruce is not really dead because he's not allowed to die. He just got lost in the multiverse because of a glitchy portal or something. Cass died in the line of fire trying to protect someone, because if she did try to dodge the bullets someone would die. Not sure about Dick yet. Maybe he had to fake his death again to go undercover. (Tim will absolutely call him an asshole for this.) The order of events is probably that Dick is the first one, then Bruce, then Cass. Cass ends up surviving the injury miraculously, but is in a coma/stuck in physical therapy/unable to do vigilante work. Damian is at a point in his character development where he no longer wants to be Batman. Helena does not want to do that again. Jason is like "fuck Batman we do not need Batman".

Duke asks if there's anyone else who's ever been Batman. Tim has flashbacks to Azbats. But then he does have a brainwave and attempts to reach Helena, but Babs says she's out on an important thing for the Birds of Prey and won't be back for a while. >:(

Nobody wants to be Batman, but Tim is exactly the kind of character who would do it anyways because Gotham needs a Batman. (Someone who is better read on Damian would be able to talk about how this impacts him, but I'm sure it would not be pretty, especially considering the character developments I've given him for this scenario. He does not want to be Robin anymore! He was already approaching that point when Bruce disappeared!)

[mrs-gucci]

The Forbidden Fruit {medieval priest!Kylo Ren x Reader}

anonymous:

Priest!Kylo + tavern + visiting his known mistress

author’s notes: hello, hello! ooo, priest!Kylo is a dirty man and I am very much here for it ;) thanks for the request! (post-writing note: this got waay longer than I originally intended lol)

warnings: a touch of fluff. smut. general filth. the incorrect use of the Adam and Eve bible story. oral sex (f receiving). a bit of religion-infused coercion. innocence kink if you really squint. hints of praise kink. virginity loss. 

tw’s: extramarital affair/sex (as was common in medieval times). (!!) dubcon (!!) **please let me know if I missed any warnings and/or tw’s!!**

word count: 1.8k

kylo’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ @icarusinthesea​ my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp​ @babbushka​ ​@mrs-zimmerman​ @dirtytissuebox​ @thepalaceofmelanie

[NOT my edit. full credit goes to sacklers_sack on Twitter]

Father Kylo walks into the Adam and Eve Tavern and steps up to the bar, ordering a mug of frothy golden brew. He takes a sip as he walks over to his usual corner table, fingers fiddling with the ring around his thick finger. 

Even though his wife already knows of his affair, he still feels a small twinge of guilt whenever he lies to her about his whereabouts. It’s a very slight feeling of remorse, though, considering the fact that she’s one of Satan’s disciples.

You walk in only minutes later, flipping the hood of your cloak off the top of your head. He looks over at smiles at the sight of you, admiring your pure and raw beauty. He’s almost sure you’re some sort of angel in disguise, too beautiful and pure to be anything less. Gods, he wants nothing more than to wreck you, split you in half with his cock.

“Hello, angel.” He purrs as you walk over and sit down at the table with him, eyes lingering on your bosom, which is accentuated greatly in this particular gown. “I am glad to see your beautiful face this eve.”

Your lips curl up into a small smirk. “No need for such flattery, Father. We both know why you summoned me here.”

“I’ve always loved how you get right down to business.” Kylo chuckles devilishly. “There are a series of rooms upstairs, the very reason I chose this particular establishment to conduct our...meeting. Step into the last one down the hall and strip bare, lay down on the bed. I will join you in a moment.”

Nodding, you stand and make your way up to the room, swaying your hips a bit extra for the Father. He smirks when he notices this, taking another sip of his beer as he feels his length twitch to life ‘neath his robes.

He waits a few minutes, finishing the mug of beer and leaving behind a tip for the barkeep before walking up to the room he’s reserved for the night. When he walks in, the sight of your nude body illuminated by the warm orange glow of the crackling fire greets him. Gods, is there a better sight to behold than this one?

Your chest rises and falls gently, rhythmically, breasts rising and falling along with your steady breathing. He’s hypnotized, momentarily, drinking in the angelic beauty that lays across the bedsheets.

His robes are swiftly removed and draped over one of the chairs, leaving him in only his undergarments. He points to your legs with his pointer and middle fingers, silently indicating that he’d like you to spread them. You do.

“Tell me, angel. Have you heard the Biblical tale of Adam and Eve?”

You shake your head, biting down on your lip when he takes a step forward towards the bed. “No, Father, I have not.”

He smirks, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. Remnants of his hot breath tease your bare skin, causing you to shudder.

“Adam and Eve were the first human beings created by God, and they inhabited in the Garden of Eden. They were given allowed to use or consume any of the other plants in the Garden, but they were told not to eat any of the forbidden fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.”

You gasp when his hands suddenly seize your ankles and pull you to the end of the bed.

“But,” The Father sinks to his knees, never breaking eye contact. “They failed to resist the temptation. The fruit...”

He pushes your legs as far apart as they can go, then lightly traces your glistening slit with his fingertips. Your breath hitches in your throat at his featherlight touch on your center.

Your eyes widen when his nose nudges your outer lips and he takes a long, slow inhale of your natural scent. He shudders, groaning under his breath before his tongue suddenly licks an agonizingly slow stripe up your cunt.

“The forbidden fruit was just too sweet.” Kylo says, licking his lips with a small smirk at the corners of his mouth. “It was so tender, so juicy; it just felt too right to be wrong, too delicious to be sin.”

You can’t stop the desperate whimper that escapes between your parted lips, insides clenching desperately against themselves. He notices the way your hole puckers, and his smirk grows a bit wider.

His mouth opens, then, and he encapsulates your entire core in a sloppy kiss. Your back arches and you gasp loudly, head pressing back against the pillows. The coarse hairs of his beard scratch your skin in the most delightfully pleasurable way, only adding to the sensations he’s creating with his mouth.

“F-Father--ohh!” Your feet plant and your hips lift up off the bed. “Oh gods, mmmm!”

He begins moving with more aggression, passionately slurping up each and every drop of the sweet nectar that leaks from your cunt. His assault doesn’t let up, not until his efforts bring you to the ultimate high.

“Father! F-Father, oh Christ!” You shriek softly, legs quaking as you hit your peak with an Earth-shattering intensity.

Kylo pulls away shortly after you’ve ridden out your high and he’s consumed every single drop of your sinful sweetness, upper lip and beard glistening with your release. He practically rips his undergarments off and wraps a large, veiny hand around the base.

“Lay up at the head of the bed, now. I shall claim your innocence tonight, angel.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up, chewing on your now-tender bottom lip. “I d-don’t know...”

The Father shakes his head, quickly pinning you to the bed, caging you with his large body. You watch his silver Holy Cross necklace shimmer in the dim light, reminding you that he is a man of God and that he would never ask anything of you that he didn’t think you were ready for.

“Do not fear it, my child; why would His Holiness grant us the bodies we posses, ones that can bring such pleasures, if we aren’t intended to use them? Trust me, angel, all will be alright.”

You’re not much of a religious woman, but he makes a reasonable argument...

“O-Okay.”

He smiles, reaching down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “I will go slowly for you. It may hurt at first, but I promise it will get better.”

You nod. “I trust you, Father.”

His tip swipes all through your slick before settling at your entrance, ready to push in. He holds your cheeks, looking deep into your eyes.

“Are you ready, my angel?”

As soon as you nod, his pelvis pushes forward and his length pushes through your unstretched walls. You cry out, tears instantly burning your eyes as they instantly begin to collect in the corners.

Once he’s fully seated inside you, he remains still, jaw clenched so tight you’re worried he’ll crack his teeth should he clench any tighter. It’s taking every single ounce of his willpower not to fuck you raw, but he knows what he must take care of you this eve. There will be plenty of time for all of that in the future.

“You’re doing sssso well, angel. Taking me so well.”

His words of encouragement, his mutters of of praise reassure you that this was a good choice. You’ve never felt so stuffed in your entire life, not even after holiday feasts and the more your insides stretch in accommodation, the better it begins to feel.

You nod up at him, the first tear escaping your overflowing eyes.

“I’m a-alright now, Father.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead, still cradling your face as he draws back, then pushes forward once more. The noises that escape your lips are positively sinful and they only encourage him on, hips steadily gaining speed and force with each passing moment.

Soon, your body and breasts and excess flesh bounce in time with his hips’ sharp, forceful thrusts. By now, the pain has completely subsided and made way for the pleasure to build in your loins.

“S-So sssweet,” He grunts quietly in your ear. “So j-juicy and tender...and you’re a-all mine...”

Your small whimpers and gasps turn to scandalous moans and cries of desperation. You hold onto his arms tightly, fingernails digging deep into his alabaster skin, surely leaving marks.

“Please, Father, please...”

Kylo can feel his control, his restraint beginning to slip as he nears climax. He’s unable to hold it off, unwilling to deny himself this heavenly pleasure whilst his cock is stained with fresh virgin’s blood.

The thought of that alone thrusts him right up to the edge, looking over the cliff to the peak of bliss.

“Y/N, my a-angel, I...I will not be able to endure much l-longer.”

You nod, grabbing hold of his hair firmly. “It is alright, F-Father. Use m-me, use my body to bring yourself p-pleasure.”

Those words send him careening into climax and he quickly pulls away just as the first rope of his foggy liquor emerges. His hips still give half-hearted mock thrusts as he spills his creamy seed all over your puffy, used cunt.

He crawls off of you once he’s finished, beginning to redress immediately. You sit up, shakily and already you can feel the pain in your loins beginning to build from the Father’s hardened intrusion.

Your eyes catch sight of some red dripped down onto the bedsheet and your cheeks warm, acute worry flaring up inside of you. Is that supposed to happen?

Almost as if he read your worried mind, Father Kylo steps up to you and holds your chin up so that you can look into his eyes.

“Bleeding is typical for virgins, nothing is the matter, I promise.”

You nod, sighing softly in relief. “Thank you, Father.”

He smiles, bending down to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “It is I who should be thanking you, my child. Thank you for giving your innocence to me, for trusting me. You did so well for me tonight, angel.”

Your cheeks warm in flattery, smile splitting your face. But, your expression falls into a frown when you see him drape the cloak over his shoulders.

“Must you leave so soon, Father?”

Father Kylo nods as he pulls on his shoes. “I must get back to the convent, angel; I apologize for having to rush off so quickly. But, I promise I will make it up to you next time, yes?”

You nod, offering a small, disappointment-tinged smile. “Yes, of course, Father. I understand.”

He reaches ‘neath his robes and pulls out the small, silver Holy Cross necklace, draping it around your neck.

“Something to remind you of me, ‘till we next meet.” Kylo says, kissing your temple. “Farewell, my beloved angel.”

Your lips tug up into a genuine smile, fingers toying with the silver charm as he approaches the door and slips out.

“Farewell, Father.”

[kurowrites]

Can I give you 2 prompts for wangxian fics? 1: meddling Xichen (to ship) + jealous lwj + oblivious wwx and 2: kissing practice + childhood friends + caught red handed by lan qiren. Thank you so much! I love your modern au fics.

I am relatively sure that this is NOT what you wanted, but you know, something something beggars something. ;) Once it had been planted in my mind, I had to do it.

---

Lan Wangji was aware that due to his distant nature and his courtesy name, some people falsely assumed that he was blind to all worldly concerns around him.

This was, however, a completely wrong conclusion. He was very much aware of what was happening around him. Just as much as he was aware that this supposed ‘conference’ that they were all attending was little more than a shoddily hidden marriage market.

Which would have been fine, it was not like Lan Wangji did not see the necessity to build stronger ties between the sects. It was not his place to judge such things, and, after all, marriage was a necessity to sustain a stable society. He might not approve of the vulgarity of some of the participants of this conference, but he did not deny the necessity of such an event, however impractical and distasteful it might be to him, personally.  

However.

Why Lan Xichen, his own brother, seemed to have made a very strong connection with Wei Wuxian at this conference, was completely beyond him.

Out of all possible matches, Lan Xichen seemed to favour Wei Wuxian over anyone else!

Lan Wangji was unable to make sense of it, no matter how long he considered the case before him.

A marriage between them would not only be questionable in terms of inter-sect politics, he also doubted that their wildly different personalities would be a good foundation for a successful marriage. Lan Xichen should be perfectly aware of these things, and yet, he seemed to prefer Wei Wuxian’s company to that of anyone else.

And Wei Wuxian… Lan Wangji did not want to make unfounded assumptions, but aiming for a sect leader seemed to be reaching very high for someone in his position. Especially when there were other suitable matches to be made that were much closer to his own age and status. Such an attempt was sure to incur the displeasure of all other major sects, and several minor ones, too.

He considered bringing the evils of such an unsuitable match to his brother’s attention, but he did not want to hurt his brother’s feelings, and Lan Wangji knew that no matter how carefully he chose his words, they would end up sounding petty and biased.

His brother knew very well how he felt about Wei Wuxian. He had been a witness to more than one fight between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and yet he seemed to have decided on Wei Wuxian without hesitation. None of Lan Wangji’s words would be able to change his choice now, he was sure.

It was just.

The thought of having someone like Wei Wuxian as his brother-in-law was unbearable. Loud and obnoxious and infuriating, how could his brother bear the presence of a person like that? And even worse, bring such a person to Cloud Recesses?

Perhaps, after the marriage, Lan Wangji would be allowed to go into seclusion for a while, in order to work on his cultivation in silence and contemplation. Once Wei Wuxian was installed at Cloud Recesses, there would be an end to all peace, that he was sure of.

He tried to make peace with that thought, and redoubled his own efforts to evade all the potential marriage partners and their families that seemed to have set their sight on him. As the second son of a prestigious sect, he had proven to be rather more popular on a marriage market like this than he had wished for, and by now, he sincerely regretted letting his brother convince him to accompany him to this sham of a conference.

He was determined not to accidentally fall into an engagement, and planned to leave the conference as the same staunch bachelor he had been before.

 “Lan Zhan!” came the loud voice that Lan Wangji would have preferred not to hear right now, or ever again.

One moment later, Wei Wuxian bumped into his shoulder.

“Ayoo,” he said once he had glanced into Lan Wangji’s face. “Someone is grumpy today. Are you getting tired of being hounded by pretty girls? You should be happy! You can pick any girl you like, they’re basically throwing themselves at your feet!”

If Lan Wangji had less self-possession, he might have felt tempted to strangle Wei Wuxian right there and then. Alas, he was in control of his emotions, and so he only levelled Wei Wuxian with a disapproving glare.

He did not want anyone to throw themselves at your feet. He did not want to get married. He did not care for pretty girls.

Wei Wuxian seemed to take his quelling glare as encouragement, and laughed heartily.

“I see, Hanguang-jun does not approve!” he teased. “There is no one good enough for Lan Zhan, after all!”

Lan Wangji wondered about that particular remark, because Wei Wuxian obviously believed himself to be good enough for Lan Xichen, who arguably was above Lan Wangji in dignity and respect. Lan Wangji was only the second son.

But perhaps Wei Wuxian was teasing him, alluding to his taciturn and forbidding nature. That made more sense. After all, Lan Wangji’s brother was the more friendly and approachable one between the two of them, no competition at all.

It needed far more than a gentle smile to impress Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian rambled on about all the dramatic scenes he had witnessed during the conference, the little jealousies that had been happening among those that were looking for a marriage partner in order to secure the status of their sect.

Lan Wangji did not really care about these things, but he let Wei Wuxian talk nonetheless, content to listen as long as he was not required to speak.

“Seriously though, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian ended his excursion. “You don’t have your eye on anyone? Come on, tell me! I’m not going to tattle! I’ll help you!”

That was precisely not what Lan Wangji wanted, and the last thing he needed was ‘help’ from Wei Wuxian, of all people. So he tightly closed his lips, and walked faster. Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian was almost as tall as him, and so he easily kept pace with Lan Wangji easily.

“Lan Zhaaaaan, come on, don’t be so stubborn,” Wei Wuxian pouted, swishing his ponytail back and forth in disappointment. “I’m trying to be supportive.”

“Wei Ying had better mind his own business,” Lan Wangji said curtly.

“Wei Ying has no business to mind,” Wei Wuxian whined, his pout growing impossibly more pronounced.

“What were you discussing with my brother, then?” Lan Wangji asked impatiently.

He regretted his words as soon as they had left his mouth.

“Oh, you saw that?” Wei Wuxian replied, perking up immediately. “Xichen-ge has been trying to convince me to come to Cloud Recesses again, to study some more or something. I wonder why he’s so insistent on it, I wasn’t that bad of a student, was I? I shouldn’t need special education!”

Lan Wangji looked at Wei Wuxian in surprise, but there was no impish glint in his eye, and no mischievous smile on his lips. Wei Wuxian was entirely serious.

“Brother asked you to come study at Cloud Recesses again?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Though I’m not sure why he would ask. I feel Lan Qiren will have a qi deviation if I visit a second time.”

Lan Wangji needed a moment to process this new information.

Apparently, Lan Xichen had invited Wei Wuxian to Gusu. But there seemed to have been made no promise of marriage, or Wei Wuxian was expertly deceiving him on that account.

But there was no real reason for Wei Wuxian to be deceptive. On the contrary, Wei Wuxian would probably enjoy to lord an engagement to his brother of Lan Wangji with gusto.

Which meant that his brother had never made an offer. And yet, he had invited Wei Wuxian to Gusu.

He had invited Wei Wuxian to Gusu.

Deliberately.

Without making an offer of marriage.

Lan Wangji froze for a moment and gripped Bichen, considering.

He looked at Wei Wuxian, who looked back at him with a half-smile on his face, evidently confused about Lan Wangji’s strange reaction to his words.

Oh, it was starting to make sense now.

It was all clear.

He was going to have to commit fratricide.

“But, you know,” Wei Wuxian said, now smiling fully, clearly unaware of Lan Wangji’s dark, dark thoughts.

“If Lan Zhan asks me, I will come.”