#[ direct line.— closed starter. ]

[plxgue4two]

@demondads liked for a random starter for sir pentious!

Muffled step's gradually get louder, the sound of clunky heels clacking against the pavement get closer and closer until the main door is thrown open in a flourish.

❝ I'm back babies'~ !! ❞

Her spectacle of an entrance receives no response, that or she doesn't stand there waiting for someone to react, confidently walking into the hotel and tossing her shopping bags on the empty couch, seemingly having no care in the world as she slide's over next to the serpentine stranger, with the air of someone who was simply approaching an old friend.

❝ Heyyy there stranger! You must be the new guy I've heard word of. You got a name Casanova? ❞

[thehumanhalf]

@captainseamech liked for a random Thalia starter!

Getting moved around for mission's and assignment's was something that Thalia wasn't a stranger too, but she would admit this would be her first time being sent to an island.

She had heard a lot about griffin rock over the years, the testing bed for all kinds of new experimental technologies and gadgets, her mom would go on and on about how much she wished she had the time to visit and see it for herself, so consider Thalia's surprise when good old prime sought her out and told her that apparently cybernian's had started living in the island in open, and he was hoping she could check on things for him since while it had been quiet at base on her end, he was a bit too busy to check in himself. That made sense.

So here she was now, wandering the footpath on the outside of town, paper in hand and bag in the other, eye's scanning the view of the ocean she had just crossed in awe, before a shifting mass of blue caught her eye from the corner of her vision and she looked over to the side of the beach. That was a transformer if she had ever seen one (which she has). She was quick to glance back at the paper in her hands then at bot with his back to her. Blue? Check. Orange highlights? check. An absolute unit? Double check. This was definitely the guy, but with optimus's descriptions, she was honestly expecting the mech to be taller then OP himself. Either way, she tucked the paper into her back pocket, placing her bag on the ground next to her before crossing her arms and leaning on the handrail that separated the edge of town from the beach below, calling out with a grin that stretch across her lips.

❝ Hey big guy! You wouldn't happen to be Captain Hightide would you? ❞

[1nplainsight]

TAGS AND LINKS.

GHOST / BANSHEE → Here. BLAZE → Here. JACKRABBIT → Here. SIRONA → Here.

SHIP TAGS -> Here. VERSE TAGS -> Here. NORMAL TAGS ↴

[strawbeerossi]

Take It

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unsub!Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer has plans of keeping your night going. Now it’s your turn to make it up to him.

Content/Warnings: Gagging, hair pulling, oral (m rec), face fucking

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Twenty Two: Face Fucking

Part two to Day Twenty

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“Why don’t we keep this going, hmm?”

You were unsure of what to say as you let your mouth fall open at the mere idea. Were you really about to go on with his sick delusions and games? It was difficult to say no, your pussy aching for more after the starter course that Spencer had given to you.

You didn’t get to answer as he helped lift you, only offering a grin as he was nudging you to get on your knees for him. “There we go. See, you’re such a good girl when you follow directions. I bet you’re dying to see my cock, aren’t you?” You didn’t want to say that you were but your head was nodding anyway, going against your wishes.

“I knew you’d be a whore.” He smirked, hand now gripping tightly to your chin as he was making you look him in the eye. The normal pretty honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, every friendly aspect behind those eyes long gone. This was how he wanted you, exposed and on your knees. He’d deal with your shirt later but right now, he was happy to see you on your knees, pussy juices surely running down your thighs from your climax earlier as well as the slick from arousal your body was supplying you with. As his hands were working to get his pants pulled down, Spencer had them down to his ankles as he was working on his boxers as well. Your eyes were widening the minute your eyes caught sight of his cock as it smacked against his stomach. You could feel drool running from your mouth, causing the male above you to chuckle. “Come on, feel free to touch. Good girls deserve it.” He winked, watching as your hand was hesitantly gripping the hardened shaft, hand slowly dragging along with it as your eyes were focused on him.

He was beautiful, hooded over eyes fixated on you as he let one hand move to grip your hair. “Come on. Don’t leave me waiting. I didn’t do that to you, did I?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. No, he didn’t. So you were diving in, tongue swiping over the thick tip of his cock while collecting a few beads of precum that were slipping from his slit. “Fuck. That’s it.” He urged her to continue, prompting her to let her lips wrap around the tip of his cock now. You took her time as you massaged the skin with your tongue, cheeks hollowing as you were suckling and just trying to enjoy your time while savoring the cock in you mouth.

Spencer wasn’t having that though.

Without warning, your head was pushing shoved down onto his cock, your hands quickly gripping his thighs for support as you gagged around the shaft in your mouth, not even fully taking him and already you were choking. He didn’t show you much courtesy, pulling you off briefly to let you breathe, watching the spit from his cock connect with your mouth from a long line of saliva. “Picture perfect. Fuck.” He growled, which wasn’t something you’d expected.

However, you weren’t given much time to say anything before you were shoved down on his cock again. This time though, he wasn’t as kind as he kept your head in place. “Come on. You can take it. I know you can. Breathe out of your nose.” He murmured, which you’d complied with that much, using your nose to breathe and try to relax your throat as his hand was using your hair to guide your movements.

As your head bobbed along his cock, your eyes were closing as your tongue was flat on the underside, tracing a vein stretching the throbbing shaft as he was using you as if you were a human fleshlight. His foot had moved between your thighs, chuckling. “Rub that needy cunt on my shoe, I can tell your clenching your thighs together.” He chuckled, lifting his foot up to bump against your clit as the electricity shot through your body.

While his cock was making a brutal assault on your throat, you were reduced to gags and whimpers as your hips rocked against the boots he had on. You were soaked and desperate for anything. However you knew that you had to play his game now. That’s the only way to get what you want in the end. “Fuck. How does it feel to be used? I bet you love it, don’t you? Choking on my cock gets that pretty pussy soaked, didn’t take you for a girl who likes to be roughed up but I’ll take what I can get for sure.” He chuckled darkly, watching as his cock disappeared down your throat as he was shoving your head down more.

At this point, your nose was brushing against his pubic bone as you were tearing up from having to swallow his full shaft, something you didn’t think was possible. It was pitiful how much you enjoyed this, how much you relished in the attention of a man who made it known he’d been stalking you. You should’ve called the police but instead you were sucking his cock while he was roughly thrusting into your mouth, surely bruising your throat in the process. There were no hopes of you being able to talk in a clear voice after this.

“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer’s breathing was shaky, his thrusts in your mouth growing sloppy as he was roughly tugging on your hair to elicit a moan to fall from your lips as your were digging into his shoe even more now, letting the laces of the boot rub against your desperate clit as your slick was coating the shoe. You were meeting his thrusts the best you could as you were bobbing your head, your goal to bring him to climax.

It wasn’t long until you were nearly choking as he was shooting his cum down your throat without warning, his hand shoving your head down more as he was emptying his heavy balls into your mouth and making you swallow everything. The warm cum had your body shivering, his foot eventually moving from between your legs and leaving you desperate as he pulled his cock out of your mouth.

“I can see why your ex came around a lot. Best throat and pussy I’ve ever came across. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He sighed in content while resting his hand against your cheek. “Get up off the floor sweetness.” He instructed, making you quickly follow his orders. However, your heart shattered when he kissed your forehead. “I have to get going for the rest of the night. Heard my phone going off like crazy earlier, which means there’s a case.”

“You better be ready for me when I get back though. Cause I promise that pussy is mine and I intend on making it well known.”

[itsmeatballworld]

| it ends in heartbreak |

pairing | daryl dixon x f!reader

summary | you both knew he would break your heart. he couldn't help himself.

wc | 1400

warnings | cursing, sadness/heartbreak [aka the title]

a/n | I've had this in my drafts forever lol I forgot about this one! Also this is the first time I've ever written pure angst so go easy on me <3

You always knew this day would come.

There were signs pointing to the downfall of your relationship, signs you chose to ignore to enjoy the moments of happiness.

But the signs couldn’t be any clearer–it would never last. It couldn't.

It was the end of the world, for starters. Life was always in shambles. The group never stayed in one spot long enough. Even the prison wasn’t safe. With everything unstable, it should’ve been obvious this would happen, but you were naive to think you’d would be any different.

Because the reality was: this was always how it was supposed to end.

He was built on a fractured foundation. He set up walls and built his life around a broken base, worn down by his past that he couldn't escape. First, parents had cracked and hardened his outlook on life. Then his brother taught him he meant little to others by leaving him behind. Not once did he ever learn how to fix the ache in his heart.

Yet when he met you, things changed.

It was gradual. Pieces of him started to align and heal. The tough outer shell wasn't as indestructible as he first imagined. After some time he opened up and let you in.

But you both knew he would break your heart.

He couldn't help himself. It was in his nature to push back, to fight and wrangle away from anything that became too real. Too good.

But for the time being, you enjoyed the blissful moments of his affection.

When he kissed you goodnight it was over.

He lingered, almost as if he was allowing his lips to memorize the feeling of your skin on his. His fingers fell against your curves as you pressed into the cellblock’s cool cement wall. It was in these seconds of quiet where you both had a chance to breathe.

Pulling back, Daryl rested one arm above your head. He leaned in close, gazing sweetly down at you. His other hand slowly traveled to your face and Daryl’s thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

Without hesitating you whispered the words he never imagined hearing from you.

Love you.

There. Right there. You saw the spark in his bright blue eyes dim. The crystalline color washed away into a deep ocean blue. Rocky and turbulent. Daryl’s eyes were no longer filled with love, but rather, fear.

You lost him, right there, pressed against the concrete wall of Cellblock D.

This was destined to fail.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Have to.”

“No…no you don’t have to, Daryl.” Your chest tightened. It was like the air was on fire. No matter how deeply you breathed in and out, pain still resided in your chest. He was crippling you.

“Daryl–”

“Ain’t up for debate.” He stepped back, snatching his crossbow from the watchtower’s metal flooring.

Your hands fumbled to find your shirt, hating how he sprung this on you in the middle of the night. He didn't have patience to wait, apparently. Just break your heart and go, like it was nothing.

“I’m not trying to…I just…” you groaned. “What happened? Was it me? Did I do something?”

His eyes went wide. That scared, fearful expression washed over him once again.

Fuck, you squeezed your eyes shut. That was it. That look. It was just like the other night. When those stupid words stumbled out of your mouth, falling to the ground at Daryl’s feet. Just before he crushed them with his silence.

“Was it something I said?”

He didn't answer and his silence (unlike most nights) wasn't good enough. You needed answers.

“So that’s it then. You say ‘I’m done’ and leave before sunrise?”

The broody man fought to glance in your direction. Instead, he focused out towards the tree-line. He grabbed onto the windowsill and squeezed so tightly that the white of his knuckles appeared. But his tactics to avoid the conversation at hand weren’t getting past you tonight.

You shot up from the floor. “Daryl.”

“I ain’t got time for this.”

“You fuck me, say we’re done, and leave? Like this was all nothing? Like we mean nothing to each other?”

Daryl paused. He turned to you with lips curled into a tight frown. Even in the darkness of the watchtower, through the bright white moonlight, his frustration was clear.

“I said ‘I love you’, Daryl.” There was a desperation behind your words. Your voice was so deeply distressing it made your chest ache. It was heavy and exhausting to display your feelings out to him in the middle of the night. But you wanted more–deserved more–than a shitty ending to whatever you had with him.

“You think this is love?”

You gawked, “yes!”

He paced the small room like a caged animal ready to pounce.

You love this man.

“This ain’t love.”

You love this man. This jerk.

“Then what the fuck is this, Daryl? Tell me.” You paused, tears welling in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. “Fucking tell me!”

The shirt in your hands balled up tight around your closed fist. You were hurt. Everything about him was trouble and you let him in.

“I said ‘I love you’. I said it and now you’re pulling away.”

As he watched you, just for a moment, his eyes didn’t fill with fear or confusion. There was something there. Between the declarations, he looked apologetic. His blue eyes softened, letting the emotions he desperately tried to conceal slip past those walls he built back up.

“Well, shit! I’m sorry I said it. I fucked this up, didn’t I?” The gravel in your voice scratched your throat. Everything burned.

The apologetic stare turned pitiful. A deep scowl crossed his face and your heart sank. “Can’t mess it up when there was nothin’ here, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. It was so condescending as his drawl pulls at the syllables. That tightness in your chest balled into a pit of rage. Fire that burned you before ignited an anger inside.

You moved closer towards him. “You sleep with me every night. You kiss me before leaving on runs. When you think nobody’s looking, you hold my hand. We talk about our past. Our future. This is real, Daryl.”

“Nah.” He grabbed his belt, twisting it through the loops. “This ain’t real.”

Your fingers tightened on the fabric as you tugged the shirt on. “That’s not true—“

He huffed, staring out into the cloudy night sky. “You’re better off without me anyway.”

“Don’t. Don't say that. I’m not better off without you. I’d be worse.”

Daryl paused.

But the hurt and anger fueling your body didn’t stop. “So don’t make me feel crazy for falling in love with you. Like it was a choice? If I was fucking smart, I would’ve ran far away from you the second we met. But I didn’t. Because I saw you for more than the asshole you pretend to be. So excuse me for feeling blindsided by your decision to leave me.”

“Leave you?” He spat. “Get it through your head, girl. You ain’t mine! You’re just some bitch I screwed.”

The frogs croaking down by the creeks ceased to exist. Trees stopped rustling in the breeze. Crickets no longer sang under the stars. The world froze as his words were thrown at you with such haste. Like he didn’t think twice.

Your arms wrapped around your waist, tugging at the fabric clinging to your body.

He didn’t look back at you. His eyes seemed to drift anywhere but you like he couldn't face the fact that he said it out loud.

No, no. He doesn’t really think that…

Your voice cracked as the tears from earlier were not going to wait much longer. “Daryl–”

He turned on his heels and was out the door. Down the ladder, each step was louder than the last. You paused, bawling your fists as the tears finally spilled across your cheeks. Loud and heaving gasps, muddled together with hot tears.

He broke you down within seconds. The tears and sobs continued on for what felt like forever until you finally had a moment of rest. The tightness in your chest subsided, thankfully, but this was the easier part. Tomorrow will be harder when you’ll have to put on a fake smile, wipe away tears in the dark prison hallways, and avoid him.

Forget him. Forget him…right like it would be easy. It’ll be fucking impossible to forget him.

You wished you could hate him. But you don’t.

So for tonight, you let yourself feel the heartbreak and planned to stand taller tomorrow. Because in the end you knew it would never last.

But it didn't matter.

You loved that man.

Yet after everything, he might have been right. You weren't truly with him.

And maybe he never really cared for you at all.

-xx-

-xx-

a/n 2.0 | daryl PLEASEE {as if I didn't write him to act this way}

[imthepunchlord]

Okay, so this might be random, but I've been reading a lot about your recent miraculous rewrite/overhaul, and it reminded me of this other person on Tumblr who posts a lot of stuff on pre-canon/concept miraculous and miraculous artbook stuff. So, I wanted to share some fun pre-canon stuff. They even have a Website about it: https://www.artbookwiki.com/home

Ok, for starters, Marinette was originally going to live in an apartment building in Belleville (which from what I've been told (so don't quote me on this) is kind of Paris's Chinese District. And instead of a balcony Marinette would just hangout on her roof.

Also on Marinette's parents, instead of being bakers, Tom was originally a cartoonist (the more look into this character you start to see a lot of parallels to Thomas Astruc) and Sabine was going to be a lawyer.

Also Fu might have been planned to be Marinette's Grandfather

And lastly, I'll mention Alya. Apparently, she was originally meant to have an interest in fashion like Marinette and might have originally planned to have a crush on Chat Noir.

Also to quote the person who posted all this (I'm leaving her name out so people don't spam her, she's seemed pretty stressed lately):

"From the 9/7/2012 bible: As eccentric as Marinette is classic, Alya wears extravagant outfits, swinging from gothic to geeky. She takes pride in being nothing like the others. It's her way of distinguishing herself. Alya is perfectly at ease with all things technology and telecommunications. Moreover, she's a budding reporter for the college newspaper!... Alya shares her bedroom with her younger sister. The room is divided in two. Alya's half is lined with posters of comic book superheroes, the floor is strewn with cables connected to an imposing DIY computer station.... Besides, she has theories on everything, admittedly- they are often very absurd. She dreams of gaining powers and becoming a heroine like Ladybug... Alya doesn't understand how Marinette can fall for Adrien, On the other hand, Alya finds Cat Noir super classy, ​​molded into his somewhat gothic leather uniform. Oh! If only Alya was Ladybug..."

Thank you for sharing! Some I didn't know, though honestly, a lot of this I'm not surprised to see.

Marinette was always kinda planned to be closer to her Chinese roots. One of the better reflections of this are concept art of her room.

And even in the Miraculous movie, she was planned to come from a small community in China's countryside.

And it's a shame that these keep getting cut out. Her ties to China is really disconnected, and I'm certain it's largely done to be more marketable for a broader audience.

I think this deleted scene from the movie bothers me the most, cause it adds so much depth to the Dupain-Cheng household. It adds to Tom and Sabine as characters, and it may be the first time I really liked them as characters and as parents. And it explains a lot about Marinette's character, why she's such a giver and provider, cause she grew up in a community that was like a close knit family, and helped each other no questions asked. It just backs why she's that way, she was raised that way. It comes natural to her.

Her parents do surprise me, but you know, I could see it. Them being bakers always felt kinda random, but that could bee from the show just not doing anything with it.

Fu doesn't surprise me too much, especially as the show does work off that older concept. You do get a grandfather-granddaughter feel from them, and it does make sense for her to have a direct family tie to Miraculous as she is heavily tied to it as a lead and it being apart of her heritage. Shame that got moved onto Adrien and had nothing really don't with it.

And you know, Fu being related to Marinette isn't a stretch as it is canon that he had younger siblings.

If not her grandfather, he could be a very great uncle.

And as I like the idea more that he got separated from his family and the Guardians were not able to locate them and reunite him with them and defaulted to training him to be a Guardian as they couldn't exactly let a kid go, I do like the idea of him eventually finding his family again, even if it's a descendant of one of his siblings.

Alya doesn't surprise me at all. You could really see it in her concept art.

And it slightly carried over into canon as Alya was the one who knew Adiren was a fashion model when Marinette didn't. For canon, it's very random for her to know, but makes more sense when you know that she used to be into fashion, and that just continues the show's trend of changing from older concepts but also still semi sticking to them without fully committing.

And it just really makes sense as most friendships are born through a shared interest. Marinette is expected to have at least one fashion friend. Marinette and Alya had a good start for their friendship, but the momentum of it struggled as most of their interactions came down to being about Adrien, and it's very, very, very rare for them as friends to bond and focus on something else than Marinette's crush.

Also, given how well off Alya looks since she can attend fashion shows and get front row seats (and maybe has a bodyguard?), and can spend a lot of money...

I wonder if Alya was ever considered to be the mayor's daughter at some point. For sure, she was incredibly well off older concepts.

And with her previously having a crush on Chat, I guess that's where they got the thought for Rocketear.

I am kinda glad they removed that, cause given their track record, especially having the known liar character say two girls can crush on the same guy and be friends, chances are incredibly high that hero!Alya would've soured her friendship with Ladybug over Chat.

I don't know about you guys, but I'm not really interested in seeing best friends turned enemies over a guy. It feels like an old cliche that can go. I'll take the Alya-Marinette friendship in and out of the mask. Even if it wasn't great overall, it's still better than what we could've potentially gotten.

[edutainer2022]

I'm in a very complicated (non)relationship with faith and religion. Loss, grief, and war do a number on that. And I'm in a weird mood (also insanely busy). I would assume the Tracies too have a complicated (and different for each) relationship with faith and spirituality, in their line of work. It's Easter time. So here's a little Earth and Sky piece centered around that time of the year, memories, fears, and love, of course. All blatant parallels with religious symbolism are all on my agnostic self, I mean no disrespect whatsoever!

EASTER

Christmas was easy. Approachable. Christmas was always about family and snuggling, comfy pijamas and Lord of the Rings rewatch maraphons, and gifts for everyone, cinnamon, cocoa, decorations and garlands. Christmas was manageable even after Mom. Then after Dad. Never the same, but manageable.

Easter was weird... In their childhood Easter was always a whirl of colors and activities - egg die on every surface besides the eggshells, egg hunts on the farm and ranch, chocolate prizes, bright baskets, and laughter. And Mom. Always Mom at the center of it all, orchestrating and directing the colorful chaos. Mom told them stories. An Irish Catholic, Mom made a point to go to mass on Easter morning, although she didn't insist they go with. They usually did, dressed in Sunday best, even Gordie on his best behavior. There would be waffles and ice-cream on the way back from the church, and sprinkles in John's hair. With Mom gone the colors muted. The whirlwind stopped. The spring lost its promise. It felt almost a blasphemy to celebrate a resurrection after a loss they suffered. Scott tried to uphold the egghunts for Gordie, who barely remembered his with Mom, and for Allie, who didn't, but it fell flat.

Dad never much discussed spirituality with them. An astronaut, a war veteran, a widower, he held certain cards close to his soul. They grew up with boundless belief in scientific knowledge and answers to be pursued by scientific methods. If there were no answers this side of known universe, that meant the science was yet to catch up. They all helped with catching up a lot. As much as they grew up with boundless belief in each other (that and an elaborate array of superstitions, given their respective specializations). And a firm conviction Mom was an angel up in heaven, watching over them. It all made sense when a brother's comms were silent in the danger zone or a brother's hand was limp and cold over hospital covers. Unbeknowest to them, through the endless night alone in outer space, their father always had but one prayer: "Look after them, my love! Keep them all safe as I can't!"

In a rare arrangement of circumstances, they were all at the farm for Easter weekend, for a change. Some issues needed to be dealt with the estate. And it was an unspoken opportunity to visit Mom's grave. (And Dad's headstone over an empty casket, right next to her). Virgil found Scott at the backporch, seated on the stairs overlooking the meadow. Alone. As he suspected he would. Virgil would have been happy to just plop down and sit it out with biggest brother shoulder to shoulder till dusk, giving him room to just be and a friendly ear, should he want one. Scott had been in a mood all day, maybe all week. So much so even John was worried, who didn't get to observe Scott in his natural brooding state up close often. Biggest brother was obviously not forthcoming with any conversation starters. Virgil took his chances and nudged a flannel clad shoulder to his right. In their childhood home Scott always dug out old, broken in flannel, albeit in blue.

"I think about going to Mom's church tomorrow morning. You wanna come with?"

It was a multi-layered invitation and Virgil knew it. It would imply quality time away from the general mayhem for just the two of them, a chance to gather one's thoughts and to connect to Mom in a way that was special to her, even a chance to bring home a decent breakfast from the diner in the town, across the church. They would then all pack up in two cars, make a trip to the cemetery, pay their respects, and have an Easter dinner all together as a family. Virgil nudged his brother's shoulder again, looking up with hope. Scott's gaze was still far away.

"You wanna go to Easter mass?"

Virgil felt self-conscious suddenly. He loved the music and the spirit of celebration. Generally loved the idea of connecting to something bigger. Connecting to Mom. He tried another angle.

"You don't believe?"

Mom did - left unspoken over the evening meadow. Scott hummed at that, blue eyes finally landing on his brother. The sadness there left Virgil breathless.

"What? Whether a guy could resurrect in three days? I don't honestly know if I believe that, Virg. But I do believe one could die for all of himanity."

Dad did - another silent echo over the meadow.

That, right there, was Virgil's deepest fear. That one day Scott would leave him behind, crying and helpless, on the sideway of his own via dolorosa, dragging a crucifix through the dust and grime of a danger zone. By Dad's unspoken command.

"Please go with me to Mom's church tomorrow! We can have waffles after."

That was blatant food bribery (aka a tried and true way to get Scott to go to concerts and art galleries). But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Scott responded with an amused chuckle and lifted an arm to invite his brother into a hug. Virgil didn't need to be asked twice. Scott's old flannel shirt smelled of old machine oil from the farm tractor, fabric softener and the inextinguishable odor of his very first, hideous aftershave from way back in basic training. Virgil closed his eyes against the steady heartbeat. "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from him."

[cinememed]

₍ 🎞 ₎ the favourite (2018) rp starters ! featuring toxic relationships, graphic language & mature themes . some lines have been slightly adjusted for rp purposes .

you wish me to lie to you? 

some wounds do not close; i have many such.

sometimes, you look like a badger. and you can rely on me to tell you.

because i will not lie! that is love!

did you just look at me? did you? look at me! 

as it turns out, i'm capable of much unpleasantness.

i have a surge of desire to see your nose broken.

you are too mean and uncaring, some days.

they were all staring, weren't they? i can tell even if i can't see.

if you want to fix yourself we can discuss this later.

there is always a price to pay. i am prepared to pay it.

some days i'm quite lovely though.

love has limits.

obviously you still have some anger to expiate. 

you are in favour. but favour is a breeze that shifts direction all the time.

if you do not go, i will start kicking you and i will not stop.

it is important to make new friends, is it not?

a monster for the children to play with, perhaps?

i'm on my side. always.

it could be said i have fallen far.

if you offer me tea, you will forgive me if i don't accept.

i need a friend, one with cute ears and wide eyes.

you always unbalance me.

do not come near me whining today or i will crush your tiny heart to liver.

perhaps because of my past, perhaps some malformation of my heart.

oh, my god. you actually think you have won.

we were playing very different games.

you do not need me as an enemy. 

a new day. a door to a new future. as metaphors abound.

i do not like this, you will lodge this unknowable thing in my brain.

i have been wanting to give you something for quite some time now.

i love a comedy.

you shall speak when asked to.

let's shoot something!

i am not food! you cannot just eat and eat.

it made me feel at their mercy, that i was nothing.

you want something. to fuck me?

i must take control of my circumstance.

i will need to act in a way that meets the edges of my morality.

if they ask why, tell them 'because i am a disloyal little bitch'.

[el-to-the-even]

Closed Starter

@marvelsmusings Escaping the lab had been the easy part, in the grand scheme of things. Papa was nearly going mad with the possibilities that her abilities opened up for him, for the science of war as they knew it. The fact that she was able to see into people’s minds, tap into electromagnetic signals from across the globe was enough of an advantage to classify her as a weapon of war, and that wasn’t even including telekinesis, or her potential to rip a hole in the fabric of space and time. 

For such a successful experiment, one might think that said experiment would be treated with some human dignity. Not Eleven, though…reduced to a number, subhuman. Of course, Eleven was none the wiser. She was absolutely delighted when she’d be rewarded with a few colored pencils and a piece of printer paper so she could draw. 

She also found it completely normal to be pushed to her limits when it came to experimentation. Ordered to use her powers until she would pass out, or to hurt other living things. And if she refused? They’d haul her off to that dark, dank, lead-lined cell to be left there for hours on end.

She used to being scared. The adrenaline rush was normalized, the feeling of needing to be sick a simple side effect of living. They could hurt her all they wanted…but she couldn’t bring herself to hurt other people. That was when she knew she had to leave, when they pushed her to a point of nearly destroying the lab and the people in it.

From there, she ran. Ran and ran and ran aimlessly through the woods. When she was found by a local, she’d been in the woods on the run for about four days. Hungry, dehydrated, and exhausted. They brought her back to their home and cleaned her up, fed her, gave her warmer clothes than the papery hospital gown she’d been in. Not once did she say anything. She wouldn’t give them as much as her name.

That was when the authorities were called, and S.H.I.E.L.D got involved. All they could gather from her was the number tattooed on her wrist. That, and a sample of her abilities, triggered by an agent visiting the residence and scaring her into sending the agent flying across the room by jerking her head in a general direction of where she wanted the agent to go. They sedated her in order to get her to headquarters. When she first awoke, she thought she was still in the lab. This was different, though. It didn’t matter though, because she was trapped again. When the agents went to check on her, they found her huddled in the corner of the room they’d put her in, knees pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around herself.

What was classified as a weapon of war- was really a scared child.

[strandnreyes]

the next chapter of your first string is 20k?? i’m so excited!

any chance you’ll give us a sneak peek 👀👀

thank you! here you go!

“Hold on,” Judd calls after him. “Don’t go anywhere yet.”

TK reluctantly stops, shifting on his feet as he stands in front of everyone. He spots a photographer who was always at their games stand up at the back of the room and make her way toward them with her camera.

Dread rushes through TK and he turns back around to subtly mutter, “Judd, I don’t—”

“We’re gettin’ one of the whole team,” he says, leaving no room for argument. “To memorialize this historic season with everyone.”

TK doesn’t get a chance to protest when the photographer starts directing him to sit in the row of chairs Tommy is setting up. The rest of the team begins to gather around as TK is assigned the one that’s front and center. The second stringers line up behind the chairs, now occupied by a mix of seniors and the starters as Tommy and Judd take the ends of the row.

TK’s too busy watching as the photographer pushes a few tables out of the way for the best angle to notice who sits down to his right. Their chairs are shoved so close together to fit everyone in the photo that Carlos’ thigh is pressed right up against his. TK can feel the warmth of it through his dress pants.

TK stares straight ahead, but their hands are both resting on their respective legs and if TK shifts his just two inches to his right, his pinky will brush against Carlos’.

He’s counting the minutes until this torture is over, watching as the photographer gets set up. While she fiddles with her camera, Grace gets up from her seat. A second later she’s got the trophy in her hands and is carrying it to TK.

“Oh,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think… Judd or Tommy should be holding that.”

“They already got their picture with it,” she points out.

“TK,” Carlos says, his name sounding like honey and oh how TK has missed hearing his name said like it’s something precious. “You’re a champion, too,” he murmurs quietly.

A few other people around him start chiming in, telling him several variations that all equate to the same sentiment, but it’s Carlos’ words that he hangs onto as he whispers, “Okay.”

[plxgue4two]

TAGS.

[thehumanhalf]

Important tag dump!

[captainmalewriter]

An Odd Trend Pt. 4

Check out part three to this series here!

Cory Davila was enjoying a cold brew with his brothers on his day off.

Life as a police officer can be pretty stressful at times. Especially during an uptick of crime, a cop can quickly find themselves overworked. As was the case with Cory, as he had to be told to take an extra day off by his superiors. Cory was hesitant at first, but ultimately decided to take it.

He enjoyed the time off to relax and spend time with his family. But little did he know that when he'd come back into the office the next week, there'd be a shit storm waiting for him.

His boss Torres had called him into the precinct earlier than usual that Monday morning. Cory walked in and poured himself a cup of dark roast coffee. Torres heard him and swerved around in her chair.

"Davila, thanks for coming in so early," Torres started. She pulled out a binder from out of her desk. Cory sat across from her while sipping his cup.

"No problem, Boss, what'd you need?"

"Well, for starters, are you familiar with the social media app Tiktok?"

"Sure, my daughter uses it. It's like for videos and such."

Torres nodded in response. She opened the binder and pulled out several photographs and handed them to Cory. Cory held each photo in his hands. Each photograph was of a different person, and there was a variety of people in the photos. Men, women, kids, of all different ages and races too; Cory couldn't discern any pattern between all the people.

"What's all this?" Cory asked.

"All of these people are victims of a strange phenomenon that's been taking place on Tiktok. And these are only the ones we know about, it's possible there could be way more."

"Really," Cory said as he took another drink of his coffee. He had a feeling he was about to be assigned to a special investigation case. "What happened? Serial killings? Mass disappearances?"

"None of the above, in fact I almost wish it was something along those lines," Cory looked up as Torres spoke. "All of these people were forced to swap bodies."

Torres then proceeded to explain to Cory everything they knew about the body swapping phenomenon that had been going on lately. Although unfortunately, there wasn't much information to begin with anyway. Torres explained how every body swap instance had occurred through Tiktok, and that the victims seemed to be randomly selected every time. They didn't know how it happened and neither did any of the victims the police had questioned. All the victims, however, did mention that the swap happened through the use of a filter on Tiktok. Some peculiar program on the app called the Me & You challenge. Cory listened closely; although the more he listened, the more he felt like he was listening to some made up story. But given how serious of a person Torres was, he had to force himself to accept the reality of the situation.

"And so that's where we stand on this case," Torres concluded. "I'd like you to take on this case, Davila. Catch whoever's responsible for the mass body swapping and find a way to reverse it. Think you can handle it?"

Cory sat back in his chair, deep in thought. He took another sip of coffee before answering.

"Alright, I got it. Do you have any leads? How did we even catch wind of this whole mess?"

"Well we've had a couple of people come forward to the police, we've already taken their testimonies. It's all in here," Torres tossed Cory the binder. "But aside from them, we've had one particular person of interest. A whistle-blower, they're the one who tipped us off about the whole thing. They didn't give us much to work with though. All they did was point us in the right direction, and no further contact was made."

Cory took a minute to take in all the information. He was essentially being sent on a wild goose chase with nothing solid to go on. But he had a feeling that that was exactly why the Boss had come to him in the first place. Cory had some informants all around town, and if there was anything shady going on, they'd know a thing or two about it.

Torres dismissed Cory, and he went straight to his patroller car to start off his investigation.

"This is gonna be another long one..." Cory mumbled as he pulled out of the precinct. His first stop, his informants.

***

Back in the same dimly lit apartment, the two masterminds behind the body swapping phenomenon were hard at work at restarting and improving their Tiktok filter. Or, more accurately, one of them was hard at work sitting at a laptop while the other stood by and watched from the comfort of his bed.

"It's been a couple of weeks already, how much longer is it gonna take?" the scrawny, red-haired Josh said to his heftier set friend Will. Will stopped typing and turned to look at Josh with a scowl.

"Don’t rush me! I gotta make sure everything's working smoothly, it's gonna take time! Our code was already unstable to begin with, and with everything you wanna add, I gotta rework a shit ton of code!"

Will maddogged Josh, who responded by throwing up his hands half heartedly.

"Ooo I'm so scared!"

"Shut up."

Will turned back around to face his computer. Josh got up from the bed and walked over to Will. He looked over his shoulder and saw a massive program full of numbers and commands. Will didn't react, instead he stared at his screen. Josh observed for another minute or so, and then shrugged.

"Well, I’mma head out now, I'll let you work in peace," Josh said as he put on a shirt.

"Great, maybe now I can get some peace and quiet and actually get something done!" Will shouted without turning. Josh flipped him off while he wasn't looking. He then proceeded to leave, but just before he did, he turned back to face his roommate for one last remark.

"You put an extra semicolon on Line 1024, that's why it's not running like it's supposed to."

Josh then left the apartment before Will could say anything back. He started up his car and drove across town to the best smoking lounge around- Twin Stars. 

Josh walked in and sat at his usual spot next to the bar. Twin Stars was packed that day. Josh sunk into his seat as he took a hit of a fat blunt. As he let himself go, he could hear the bartender Tiffany talking to someone. 

“Well hey there stranger, I almost thought you died or some shit what with you not showing up anymore. How you doing, my darling Davila?” the bartender said. 

“I’m alright, Tiff, thanks.”

“You sure? You look tired,” Tiffany cooed.

“Yeah, just stressed about work. I’ve been working on this case for the past couple of days, and no luck so far. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about illegal activity going on on Tiktok?”

“Well, I know a lot about a lot of things. I’m gonna need you to be a lil’ more specific...”

“Body swapping, like literally two people swapping bodies. Know anything about that?”

Josh choked on his second hit of weed when he heard that. He quickly took out his phone and turned on the camera to selfie mood. Josh then held out his arm, angling the phone just right so he could see the bar from his seat. He saw Tiffany the bartender, and after moving his hand position, he saw a man in a police uniform. Josh turned off his phone and put out his blunt. He then listened closely to their conversation.

“Body swapping, huh? Hm...” Tiffany started. Josh leaned in closer to listen. “I can’t say I know anything you haven’t already heard.”

“Try me.”

“Well, I know there’s some Tiktok filter that’s been causing it, but that filter got taken down a long time ago. And apparently, even when it was active, not everyone had access to the filter. And, as if that wasn’t already weird enough, apparently even the people who could use it could only use it once before it just disappeared!” 

Josh smirked as he listened. The disappearing feature was his idea, and he couldn’t help but pat himself on the back for his handy work.

“Yeah, I heard similar things from some swap victims I’ve spoken to. Say, what do you know about Tiktok and filters?”

“Well... anyone can make a filter for social media these days. But the more complicated the filter, the more coding and design it’ll take to make it work.”

“So you’re saying it’d take a brainiac to design something like a body swap app?” the officer asked.

“Oh I’m not saying anything. But what am I saying is that if I was in your shoes, I’d go looking for whoever’s got the know-how to make a program like that. Chances are you’ll narrow down your list of suspects, and by a lot...”

Josh grew disinterested at this point in their conversation. From what he had heard, he was convinced that the cops where nowhere near close to catching him and Will in the act. As soon as Will finished polishing up the revamped program, they were home free. 

With that thought in mind, Josh continued smoking. He let himself go until his head was high up in the clouds.

***

The next 48 hours were as busy as ever for investigator in command Cory Davila. Although he hadn’t made any significant progress in the case the past few days, he felt he was getting close to a major breakthrough after a talk with one of his confidants Tiffany at Twin Stars. He knew having connections in different places would pay off, and some fantasy body swapping case was no exception. 

Cory made several stops throughout the next couple of working days. First, he started by paying a Tiktok intern a house visit. Through him and his status as a police officer, Cory was able to connect with someone higher up on the ladder for the social media company. Cory issued a warrant for some private data on the app, specifically for whoever had uploaded a filter to the app during the past few months. Then, once he had that information, Cory ran a background check on all of those users. He separated the list of suspects by who was likely to have the coding knowledge necessary to pull off designing a complicated program like the Me & You challenge. 

After several hours of cross checking all the data, he had a shortened list of potential suspects. Unfortunately most of them were people outside of his state jurisdiction in Chicago, Illinois. Cory handed those off to his boss to arrange for their criminal investigations department to take care of it. But as for the ones who were in Chicago, Cory took it upon himself to check them out himself. 

The first two potential suspects Cory visited did not uncover anything particularly groundbreaking. Cory marked them down as unlikely culprits, then went on to his next house visit. He drove to a low income neighborhood and pulled up to a shabby looking apartment building. As he parked, Cory reviewed the guy’s profile in his mind. 

“William Rivera. Age: 26. Occupation: unemployed. Education: a bachelor’s degree in computer science from the University of Chicago. Criminal history: two DUIs, illegal possession of marijuana, and a driver’s license suspension.”

Cory took a deep breath as he walked up the apartment William’s permanent address. William definitely had the knowledge necessary to construct malicious computer software, and with circumstances like his, he’d definitely have something to gain from the whole scheme.

Cory shook his head, reminding himself that no matter how bad it seems, justice is always innocent until proven guilty. He then knocked on the door. He waited, but got no response. He knocked again, louder this time. 

“Chicago PD! I’m looking for William Rivera, open up!” Cory called out. He heard someone shout ‘shit!’ from somewhere inside the apartment. He waited and waited. And just as he was about to knock again, a scrawny looking man opened the door.

“Yo, you rang?” the guy said. 

“Yeah, I’m looking for a William Rivera.”

“Oh, Will? That’s my roommate, he’s out right now,”

“Really,”

“Yup.”

There was silence as the two men held their ground, neither of them backing down. 

“I heard someone scream ‘shit’ when I knocked,” Cory started. “What was that about?” 

“Oh, you heard that? Sorry, I was jerking off and I had to quickly cover up. Wouldn’t wanna keep our good boys in blue waiting, after all.”

There was another pause in the conversation. 

“Is that so? Well... if you ask me, I’d wager that Will’s somewhere in there, hiding from me. We’ve got a warrant on him, and I’d hate to take him in but if he doesn’t come out, I guess I’ll have to,” Cory bluffed. He needed to draw him out no matter what. Unfortunately for him, his threat didn’t faze the red-haired man.

“He’s not hiding, officer, trust. Tell you what,” the guy stood to the side and opened the door completely. “Come inside and look for yourself, I promise you nobody besides me is home.” 

Cory’s eyebrow rose. Something about how the red haired guy carried himself seemed off. He was overly confident, if not outright cocky. Cory hated it. He drew his taser, and with it in hand, walked inside the apartment. 

“Nobody’s gonna jump you, officer, god...” 

Cory ignored the guy’s snide remark and marched forward. He searched high and low, every closet and crawl space, but didn’t find anything. The red haired guy stood by the door and watched him the entire time. He then smirked once he saw Cory was finished searching. 

"Alright, looks like he's not here. I'll be taking my leave now, but do let William know I'll be dropping by again to talk to him."

"Will do, officer."

Cory began to talk towards the exit. But as he did so, the man closed the door and locked it. Cory then pointed his taser gun at him.

"What are you doing? Open that door right now!" Cory commanded.

"Nah, it's way too soon for goodbyes!"

The guy pulled out his phone and an odd clicking sound played. A fluorescent pink light then shined from his phone. Cory aimed his taser, but just before he pulled the trigger, the apartment wall next to him had collapsed. From the rubble, out came a fat man holding a computer screen with the words Me vs You in flashing rainbow colored lights. Cory quickly reaimed his taser, and while he did manage to taze the fat man, the rainbow light had shined directly into his eyes. The light disoriented him, and he passed out onto the ground next to the guy he tazed.

...Cory found himself sitting on a toilet naked when he came to. His head was pounding, and his chest was heaving as he was heavily breathing. He blinked a couple of times as his vision adjusted. His cock was fully erect, and his hand was firmly wrapped around it.

"What the... Am I high...?" Cody murmured. He began coughing. He stared at his cock, but questioned why he was in that position. More importantly, he questioned why his cock looked differently than how he remembered.

He gave himself a pump, and soon enough, his hands picked up a good pace as he stroked his cock. He moaned, and wrapped both his hands around his long dick. His leg muscles strained as he felt the pleasures of jerking off kick in.

"No... I can't... Ah...! Fuck... So good..."

Cory wanted to stop masturbating but it was like his hands had a mind of their own. He knew he shouldn’t be jerking off when he had an active police investigation to attend to. But the more he jerked off, the more he felt his worries melt away with each hand stroke. Soon enough, he forgot all about the investigation. But that wasn't all he forgot, Cory began to forget everything about himself too. He forgot about being a police officer, he forgot about his brothers, his wife and daughter, everything he had ever cherished was erased from his mind.

"FUCK!! AHH!!" Cory was practically screaming from how much pleasure he was in.

His hand strokes got faster and his grip around his thick member got stronger. After another minute of guttural moans and heavy breaths, Cory shot load after load of cum all over himself. He could feel the warm cum puddle up on his exposed torso, and it soon began to run down his body due to how much cum there was.

Cory then took some time to compose himself as well as clean up after a messy jerk off session. He looked at himself in the mirror, and for a moment, he did not recognize the face in the mirror. He felt as though he needed to arrest him, but that odd feeling quickly faded. And in its place, a sense of cockiness from how much he loved himself took form.

"Man... I look so hot today," Cory said out loud. "I could really go for a drink right now."

He then proceeded to indulge himself in some more self pleasure with a drink and a hook up. All while completely forgetting he was never the young, hot, and cocky Joshua Anderson, but actually a cop named Cory Davila.

***

"Officer Davila" was heading back home after a long meeting with the Boss and his higher ups. He had reported to his superiors everything his investigation had uncovered, and that although he did everything he could from within his jurisdiction, he could not find the culprit behind the serial body swapping program. But despite his failure in catching the culprit, Torres had thanked him for all the time and energy he had put into the case. Officer Davila was then promptly dismissed and left the rest of the investigation to the other police departments. Though as he drove home, he couldn't help but smirk, for he knew that nobody would be able to uncover the truth now.

Cory's phone rang as he drove down the freeway. He picked it up and held it to his ear while keeping his left hand on the steering wheel.

"Hello? Davila here,"

"Pizza cat masquerade." A robotic voice had spoken through the phone. This didn't faze Cory though.

"Exploding violet pussies," he responded.

"Josh!! I can’t believe it's you!" the robotic voice disappeared and Will's voice came on.

"Best believe it baby," Josh said as he smirked. He then explained to Will everything he had done with the officer's body and how the police investigation would likely hit a dead end now. "Everything went according to plan! How's development on the Me vs You program?"

"It's going smoothly, I should be done by tomorrow. Man, using you and that cop as lab rats helped me pinpoint the problems with the code. I watched him move around in your body you know. It took a while for the memory transfer to complete but it worked, he really believes he's you now! It was trippy, but it's all good. You feeling alright? That cop's body didn't hijack your mind?"

"Nah, all good here. I'm chilling. And hey, how did you program it to delete my old body's memories of the whole Me vs You program?"

"That's the trippy part, I never did! It was an accident on my end after you made me finish a prototype under a time crunch... But luckily the memories that didn't transfer worked in our favor. It's nothing short of a miracle."

"Whew, damn..." Josh exclaimed. "Even when you fuck up, my perfect planning still comes clutch, huh."

"You never change... Hey, speaking of your plan, why did me undressing and jerking off your old body have to be part of it!?"

"Yeah yeah yeah I'll buy you a drink and suck you off later to compensate. We all have to make sacrifices to get what we want, Will. You sacrificed your dignity, I sacrificed my God tier body to some bastard cop."

"...Fine. I'm still not happy about it though. But, anyway, I'll call you again once I'm done with the program alright?"

"Sounds good man, soon enough we'll have this world on its knees begging us for mercy. Catch ya later."

Josh and Will shared a laugh before hanging up. They had successfully evaded law enforcement. And while Will was busy finishing up the perfect body swap program, Josh had some fun with his new body. After all, it wasn't everyday he got to celebrate his big accomplishments with some fun inside another's man body. And with a body like officer Cory Davila's, Josh just couldn't help but fully indulge himself.

Check out the final part to this series here!

[rottenrewards]

Closed starter for Murphy Kensington ( @svnshowers ) Location: Outside Ocean 7

It was no surprise that Elliot was out for the evening. No longer having any real responsibilities it was easy for him to indulge in the simple pleasures in life like a fancy drink and blaring sound system. He hadn't made any quick friends that night. Elliot wasn't particularly flashy with his money but maybe if he decided to go for a bottle service people would flock to him and he wouldn't spend his evening alone. That was an idea for later as he found himself popping out of the club to have a quick smoke break.

He watched as the queue of people disappeared into the club beside him. All equally hopeful for a good night tonight as him which is really the only thing keeping his spirits up right now. He wasn't going to be crying in the club right now. One particular club goer caught Elliot's eye in line and caused him to freeze, with the cigarette still burning in his mouth. He'd come to Austin in hopes of it being a big enough city that he wouldn't just run into people. There she was the girl from the gala. He didn't know how long it's been since the event, weeks? Months? He supposed it didn't matter.

Realizing he was staring he quickly turned his attention back to his cigarette and hoped that she hadn't spotted him. The evening had been nice and Elliot had thought he'd left it at just that, a nice evening and considering she never called after he'd succeeded in keeping whatever had sparked between them a one night thing. Elliot was still very new to this "hook up" culture he found most of the world to be tied up in. He'd gotten into his relationship at the ripe age of sixteen and really hadn't known anything other than what it was like to be with his ex. He'd never had to make hasty exits or worry about what proper etiquette was for situations like this. At almost thirty he really felt like he was starting from scratch. What he'd previously had had been an outlier in this world and now he had to get with the times. Elliot found himself compelled to look in her direction one more time which had been a mistake since he locked eyes with her. Shit. Now what? He braced himself for her to make some sort of move because he felt too awkward to figure out a way to acknowledge her existence again.

[dailyanarchistposts]

It’s pretty rough being an Israeli anarchist these days. On a good day you are dismissed as irresponsible and naive, ignorant of history and blind to reality while your dedicated, life-risking activities are, at best, an easily-absorbed tantrum in the Nanny State. And that’s on a good day. The normal treatment is a bit less savory. You are violently despised, branded a fifth column for Iran and al-Qaida, and all the beatings, tear-gassings and shootings you and your comrades endure are gleefully cheered on, alongside the usual calls to put the anarchists up against the wall.

In his May 24 “Power & Politics” column “Anarchy has its place”, Elliot Jager is just the man to give you a bit of both. After a rhapsody of belittling rhetoric designed to brand anarchists as irrelevant, we are back with the usual vitriol and bad faith: well-rehearsed cheap shots, stock phrases and smug moralizing alongside harangues of abuse and dehumanization of the enemy. Hate, not reason, is behind the accusation that Israelis who take direct action against the Segregation Barrier effectively aid those who would murder Israeli civilians. This is manipulative nonsense.

Get real — as if every publicly dismantled roadblock or hole in the segregation barrier isn’t closely guarded and soon repaired by contractors. At most we’re costing the state some money and man-hours. The main thing that happens is that everybody gets to see our weekly demonstrations violently repressed. Symbolic actions are only the most visible part of a much wider struggle that includes more sustainable actions, from interfaith dialogue to the accompaniment of olive harvesting to joint ecological projects, as well as demonstrations, publishing and educational work. The point of all this is not only to dismantle barriers but to get the army out of Palestine, dismantling the entire regime of occupation with its apparatus of death, imprisonment and confiscation. We are not interested in better managing of the conflict — we want to end it by reconciliation among enemies.

AND THAT’S just for starters. Jager invokes Leviathan, Hobbes’s metaphor for the State. It is the sovereign to which everyone supposedly cedes his autonomy, so as to avoid a war of all against all and a precarious life that is “nasty, brutish and short.” This is what we are told about human nature. Now tell me one thing: If you don’t trust people to get along without rulers, how can you possibly trust them to rule other people? Leviathan is not as Jager imagines it. The cadaverous beast is an artificial social machine of domination, with living human beings as operating parts. We all fuel the matrix of hierarchical and coercive institutions, and we can destroy it by constructing a new society from the grassroots even as we confront injustice. Leviathan speaks from the mouths of those who apologize for having lost faith in their capacity to make their own history. Those who know they can do so reject its easy lies. People with this kind of analysis don’t inhabit cafes and art galleries. And so when Israeli activists get out of their comfort zones and put their bodies on the line for the future, suddenly they’re a threat.

THERE ARE remarkable parallels here to the civil resistance to the withdrawal from Gaza — a self-organized, grassroots campaign of disobedience and direct action if there ever was one, brutally repressed by the forces of the state in the name of majority rule. Many anarchists, by the way, opposed the disengagement — as they would any armed unilateralism toward citizens or non-citizens under military occupation. The truth is that Israeli anarchists are demonized because their actions are coherent and bold. The joint Palestinian-Israeli struggle transgresses the fundamental taboos put in place by Zionist militarism. Alongside the living example of nonviolence and cooperation between the two peoples, the struggle forces Israeli spectators to confront their dark collective traumas. Israelis who demonstrate hand-in-hand with Palestinians are threatening because they are afraid neither of Arabs nor of the Second Holocaust that they are supposedly destined to perpetrate. Notice how everything comes out when the anarchists are vilified: the fear of annihilation, the enemy as a calculated murderer, and victims’ guilt expatiated through the assertion of self-defense and just war as unexamined axioms. And this is threatening on a deeper level than any hole in the fence — but, then again, anarchists didn’t get their reputation as trouble-makers for nothing. Refuse communion at the edge of the Abyss. “Disimagine” this nightmare disguised as reality, where victims of victims victimize each other until one day we are all blown away to Kingdom Come.

We can still break out of the vicious cycle of drawing the justification for present atrocities from the living memory of the horrors of the past — if only we realize that in doing so we are playing into the hands of all those who mean to rule us. AS FOR ourselves, in manifesting our solidarity with Palestinians we have no intention of romanticizing their struggle, or of hiding our opposition to anyone who would rule the peoples of this land. Rather it is a question of starting to practice desertion, refusal, sabotage, attack against every violent authority, all coercive power, and every state.

[clefaiiiry]

Join me as I try to figure out where the FUCK Sett's arena is

Since Riot haven't even given a name for Sett's mother's tribe, you know damn well they're not going to make this easy.

But anyway, long ramble under the cut;

For starters, we know it's in a city called Qayanvi. We know this via voicelines and flavour text in Legends of Runeterra.

Legends of Runeterra Voicelines from Sett

So what do we know about Qayanvi and, more importantly, where is it?

Title Menu Splash art for Legends of Runeterra shortly after the Glory in Navori expansion dropped.

This art for the title menu on LoR shows Jack presumably before crashing Sett's arena as shown in their card arts. While is is not confirmed outright, it's pretty safe to assume. But since we know what the interior looks like via multiple card arts, we don't even have to assume.

Sett and Jack's Level 1 Card Arts from LoR

Qayanvi must have been a region that Noxus controlled - or at least had influence in - during the First Invasion, and Sett wouldn't move since he wants to stay close to his mother. This is a little harder to figure out since the interactive map on universe only shows the areas currently occupied by Noxus during the Second Invasion.

First image; Red highlights show areas occupied by Noxus. Second image shows place names.

Some of the architecture also seems to have heavy Noxian influence, with this large brutalist grey stone courtyard. We can also see in other card arts that this Noxian style of architecture is present in other locations in Ionia.

Lord Broadmane Card Art from LoR. I don't think this is Qayanvi since the Ionian buildings in the background have blue roofs rather than red ones, but it shows how the Noxian structures coexist alongside the Ionian ones across the previously occupied regions.

We also know that Qayanvi is on the coast since we can see the harbour in the background here.

It also would have been reasonable to assume Qayanvi was a coastal city even without this confirmation since trade is so important for such a crime ridden city. Sett's arena is operating out in the open and everyone knows what sort of dirty business a crime boss like that gets into. Having direct trade links with Noxus and Piltover / Zaun just makes the who operation so much easier.

Navori as a region is described as having 'notable' criminal influence and is quite unstable due to it's previous occupation.

Card Art for The Witness. I'm not as confident about this one being Qayanvi, but the sea wall looks to be similar and the buildings in the background also appear to have a similar shape / red roofs.

Biome map used during development of the Interactive Runeterra map. Link attached to image.

The coastal area that I would have assumed Qayanvi to be in is shown to be a steppe / prairie. It's hard to judge in the images we have, but this looks somewhat consistent.

So we're looking for a coastal area in Navori, not necessarily still in Noxian controlled space, but close enough to continue trade.

Location of Ionian Capital taken from the Wiki; unable to find a source. The city is officially referred to as Ionia City, and is where the Ionian Council meet for various discussions / debates.

With all this in mind, I'm gonna take a stab and estimate that Qayanvi is somewhere within this red line;

Areas in black I think are highly unlikely, areas in yellow are potential but I'm not as confident. The large area south of Ionia City and west of Weh'le I believe(?) is the area attacked by Singed's chemical weapons and therefore are too barren to sustain a city like Qayanvi.

I'm not totally happy with my guess and I'd love to see other people take a swing, but this is the closest I would be happy to guess with the information I can find.

If you made it to the end of this post, thank you for reading and I hope this was interesting!