#cw assasination

[callmepip]

john wilkes booth kinned brutus.

[perereiii]

Okay yknow on the assassination attempt actually. If the last one was maybe staged then this one was definitely staged, based on what I’ve read so far. There are few sources outside of the secret service and Trump himself who can testify on what happened. Plus, all this is happening right after the debate. Sounds inconsequential at first, but with Trump losing so badly (and having media coverage ON how badly he lost), it makes sense for him to try and divert attention to something new and crazy about him that doesn’t negatively affect his image. Easiest way to do that while keeping the moderate crowd (since his reactionary talk doesn’t work as well with them) is to fake an assassination attempt. Again. Even if there was a guy who held a gun so the secret service could take him into custody, it all feels straight out of some dramatized, stereotypical, and very fake reddit post.

[carelessflower]

Malec vision board challenge:

Enemies to Lovers

CW // gun

funny how the man you suppose to kill ends up on your bed instead

[pinkcadavart]

Mama, they say I'm a terrorist

[phantoms-lair]

23 if you're still accepting numbers? ^^

MSA + Assassination Classroom There was another ghost.

And boy howdy was Arthur tempted to ignore it and do nothing. The first ghost they'd run into had turned their well dissevered vacation into turning a mountain into a haunt and possibly adopting Vivi's distant cousin. Given his druthers he'd avoid this one if not for one thing.

It was following a kid around. Constantly.

That kind of attention from a ghost was devotion. If it was to protect the person, that was great. If it was vengeful though...Arthur couldn't take the chance.

Surrepticiously walking past the student in question, Arthur grabbed the blond ghost and kept going, dragging him away.

"Hey wait, you can see me? You can touch me?" The ghost seemed more flabberghasted than enraged, which boded well.

"Yes." Arthur answered once they were away from other people. "now want to tell me why you're following that kid around?" "I just...I want to help him. It's my fault. But I can't do anything and no one else can even see me." Ah, guilt. That was a motivator Arthur knew far too well. "What's your fault. Maybe I can help you fix it?" "I ruined his life." the ghost bemoaned. "All because I couldn't take it anymore. If I'd just stuck it out instead of jumping..."

"Were you close to him?" Arthur asked softly.

Surprisingly the ghost shook his head. "We'd never met, but his father was my teacher in middle school. When he found out I'd jumped because of bullying he took it...he took it bad. Real bad."

"Bad enough to abused his own son?" Arthur's voice turned harsh.

"Physically I don't think so. Mentally and emotionally though-" the ghost shuddered. "Asano-sensei believed it was his fault I jumped, because he taught me to be a good student instead of being strong enough to survive. Strength -physical, academic, psychological - was all that mattered. No loosing allowed. All of this, E-Class. the discrimination, the fact that Gakushu-kun only knows how to react to people via manipulation, it's all my fault." The ghost sobbed.

"No!" Arthur said firmly. "Jumping...Killing yourself wasn't the answer, but you are not responsible for a grown man's inability to cope with grief. If you didn't set him off, something else would have. " Fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Me and my friends, we're going to stop this. We'll save the students and the teacher's kid. Promise."

"You can't." The ghost sobbed. "Nobody can win against Asano-sensei. Nobody!"

"Well, call me Odysseus, Kid, because he is going to lose big time. I know things he doesn't and faced terrors beyond human reckoning. If those haven't broken me, nothing will."

"You can see me." The ghost said again, but this time it was as though he was realizing something. That if this person before him could touch ghosts, what else could he do.

"My name is Ikeda Rikuto," the ghost bowed. "I put myself in your care."

"Kingsmen Arthur," Arthur bowed back. "And you might want to think about what you'd say to your old teacher if given the chance, because that chance may very soon be coming up."

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

my cough hasnt gone away :/

[diejager]

Hello this would be the very first time id make a request if you still take them. Omegaverse taskforce 141 with an isekai reader who could pass as a bèta with a twist, if you heard about the pheromone perfume then yeah. Reader as a beta but snells like an omega🙂

🐼anon

Cw: pheromone perfume, omegaverse, spy, inaccurate facts, tell me if I missed any.

For something you’d once thought fictional, an imaginary creation to spend one’s time on and lose themselves when they wanted to escape the hardships of their world, it was scarily realistic. You were a fan, someone who’d followed the franchises from it’s earliest days to the most recent - and unsightingly disappointing - installment of a remake of a remastered version of a game you played as a kid. You’d even dreamed of it being a reality, living the lives and adventures besides the men and women in Modern Warfare and even Ghosts and Black Ops despite knowing that their universe was a mirror of your own, simply built and reconstructed differently than the one you were born in. 

It was a fantasy, even your strange interest in works tagged with omegaverse. To see a big man like Ghost shudder and kneel for another, to see Gaz being tenderly dominating and affectionate, to see Price reluctantly soft and grumpy, and to see Soap teasingly sly and mischievously headstrong. Sometimes, they would draw one as an omega and the other as an alpha, or as an beta and alpha couple. It was a whole roller coaster of emotions and intrigue, but a fantasy all the same.

And yet… and yet, here you were, in a body that was and wasn’t your own. It was a carbon copy of yours, but you weren’t you in it, like wearing a mask or another’s skin. That’s how you felt, especially with the scars that painted your skin like a stray sky and tense muscles that felt too hard to be fake. Perhaps it was the sudden sensitivity of your nose, the cloying in your mind and annoyance that suddenly filled you. Or perhaps it was the clean and elegant clothes you wore, a harsh dichotomy to the dark gear the others beside you wore, vests and padded body suits, weapons latched to their hips, chests, thighs and even in their hands, and the hard and cold gleam in their eyes, hidden under the darkness of the vehicle you rode. 

Any confusion you once had was washed away when time seemed to stall, the world blurring as clear and loud words were spoken in your mind. Instructions, you understood, guidance towards your goal and advice to complete it. It was a ball, you were sent to conclude a transaction under… Kate Laswell’s order, a favour you had agreed to do for her as someone who worked in intelligence and assasinations rather than brawn and breaches. She’d called you a silent killer, neither a mercenary nor an employee, you were a panther in stalk, an owl in flight, deathly silent and tenaciously lethal.

It seemed like an out-of-body experience. You were somehow a spectator to your body, and somehow the master of it. Every act was practiced, ever word spoken with a charming smile and every smile particularly persuasive. It was so simple —so easy. With their emotions flashing in your face through smell alone, your nose twitching at the scent of arousal and pleasure, the flattered and the excited. They were so - too - easy to read and control, to have them curled around your finger like fine silk. You chalked their attraction towards you to your charms and the smell that clung to your skin, a sweetness that made both men and women turn their heads to gaze at you for a lick f your scent. Pheromones. An omega’s pheromones mixed with sweet perfume. 

It helped, truly, making your work vastly easier than you’d once thought. It eased the nerve and anxiety that brewed inside of you, having done nothing but speak out loud the words that popped in your head and act out the motions that were advised to you. Your brain - mind or conscience - was a machine, a computer giving out orders and guiding you through this without any trouble. That, you were thankful for, you would have been a mess of tears and panic if not for it. It made you work quick and efficient.

And you were out within the hour, striding across the street and down the corner, walking as if you weren’t in a hurry or on a mission, nothing better than hiding in plain sight —the best of hiding spots. Within the minutes, down a few streets, turning left and right, walking circles to make sure you weren’t followed, you crossed the threshold of a textile shop, nodding at the lady working at the counter and headed to the back rooms, the employees only rooms. There, you met four men huddled around a table with Laswell at the head, all familiar figures you once fantasied about. 

“An omega?” Price sounded much deeper in person, his done low and somehow soft despite the rasp that smoking caused. 

“Beta,” you corrected, your name following as a greeting, a beast greeting another beast, head bowed in respect and acknowledgment that they returned. 

“You don’t smell it.”

It was curt and to the point, nothing you hadn’t expected from Ghost.

“Pheromone perfume,” you grinned, patting your pocket, “Neat trick, hmm?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[galactic-rhea]

Here's an unprompted bunch of Anidala headcanons because I had an awful, awful night/day and I need to ignore life somehow ✨

CW for Fluff(? Overload...probably?

- Whenever he gets the chance, Anakin doesn't take Padmé's hand rather her wrist to check her pulse. Yeaaaaah. i know.

-Padmé has shot Anakin several times (not that he didn't dodge them) because he tends to show up unnanounced through a window or a vent and because Padme gets assasination attempts like twice per week. The handmaidens ALSO have shot him several times, same reasons.

-Padmé is the one that gets "cute agression', aka: Bites, squeezes, headbutts, tackles, punches and pulls of Anakin's hair. In an Vaderdala AU, however...........I think she still bites, lol. She never gets to show emotions at all, of course she spills them all with Anakin, even if the results are weird.

-They're actually very old fashioned (tm). Like, even for the SW standards, common people would think they're weird because they probably recite poems in the equivalent of Space Latín. Probably because Padmé is an ex-queen and neither of them had a normal childhood, neither of them actually know how to act socially outside of formality. They're in their 20s but act like in their 50s idk.

-I don't think Padmé is very religious, but you bet that Anakin decided to study whatever nubian religioin he married into and all the customs. He considers himself more of a nubian than anything else.

-Here's a hilarious one: For some odd will of the universe, the gods, the force or whatever, Jar Jar usually manages to Tag along and third-wheel their dates. And is even more funny because they barely care, So the annoyed one ends being fricking Jar Jar of all people. They're there reciting their wedding vows for the fith time that day and Jar Jar is right there like "Meesa getting fed up of this", but he STILLS tags along.

-At first it startled her, but it kinda became sort of a "normal sunday when Anakin isn't on the battle front"; Anakin literally dragging himself after escaping from the medbay just to drop half-conscious on Padmé's floor like "Honey, I'm Home". And he still has a piece of shattered glass somewhere. Cue to Padme shaking her head and calling for her handmaidens to bring a medkit or to call Kix.Again.

-Padmé lowkey stole several of Anakin's jedi cloaks. Also a poncho.

[sytoran]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑!

howdy! it's two weeks till october, and that means kinktober season. i've planned a very elaborate (and spicy) menu for you lot. it's my first ever kinktober event, so don't be too harsh on me. stay tuned for the good stuff!

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

🎃 minors dni! for the rest of yall please be mindful of warnings and tags before reading (a lot of these fics may contain sensitive/triggering stuff!)

🎃 all fics will be dom!reader x sub!marvel women. (mainly wanda maximoff and natasha romanoff). don't like, don't read.

🎃 posts relating to this kinktober event will be tagged as 'sytoran's kinktober 2023'

🎃 i generally like to write reader as more masc-representing, and only either fem!reader or gender-neutral!reader (no male!readers)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

🎃 OCTOBER 001.

somnophilia | CW!wanda x beefy!avenger!reader summary: after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed. cont: mild non-con, vaginal fingering, begging, daddy kink

🎃 OCTOBER 003.

blowjob | secretary!natalie rushman x ceo!reader summary: natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file involves seducing a high-ranking executive, and the seduction goes smoothly. a little too well, in fact, that she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be. cont: reader has a cock, power play, begging

🎃 OCTOBER 005.

thigh-riding | IW!wife!wanda x gn!reader summary: you've always loved writing stories since young, but the tale of you and your wife writes itself, and it ends with a sweet happy-ever-after. cont: soft sex, established relationship, romance + fluff

🎃 OCTOBER 007. [POSTPONED]

stockholm syndrome | AOU!wanda x hydra!reader summary: after being taken as hostage by HYDRA's runaway assasin, newbie avenger wanda is prepared for pretty much anything, except developing feelings for her captor. cont: reader has a metal prosthetic arm, humiliation, degradation

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 009.

mermaphilia | mermaid!wanda x pirate!reader summary: as captain of a notorious gang of pirates, you've got a reputation of steel, but when there's a pretty little mermaid presenting herself for you, there's no chance in hell you're not saying yes. cont: sweet talk, begging, humiliation, overstimulation

🎃 OCTOBER 011.

size kink | roomate!natasha x werewolf!reader summary: despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for. cont: (very) rough sex, reader has a cock, breeding, creampie

🎃 OCTOBER 013.

knife play | bimbo!wanda x ghostface!reader summary: for years on end you've chased sweet revenge. from being your high school bully to the fount of your desires, wanda maximoff is your esteemed salvation and utter demise. today, you plan on taking it all back. cont: dubious consent, degradation, fingering

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 015.

tit-fucking | milf!natasha x amab!reader summary: your wife thinks you've been acting a little off lately. she tries possible solutions to lighten your mood, but eventually it comes down to the 'hard' truth that you wanna fuck her tits. cont: reader has a cock, teasing, possessiveness, praise

🎃 OCTOBER 017.

breeding press | housewife!wanda x amab!reader summary: your wife looks a little too good on a particular weekday morning. spoiler alert - you end up late for work that day. cont: reader has a cock, daddy kink, possessiveness, marking

🎃 OCTOBER 019.

public sex | milf!natasha x mechanic!reader summary: natasha's had a completely shit day, and the last straw is when her car breaks down on the way home. the unbelievably sexy mechanic who shows up to fix her car makes it an unforgettable night. cont: daddy kink, horniness, hot mechanic stuff

🎃 OCTOBER 021.

wall sex | cheerleader!natasha x footballer!reader summary: natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player, both on the field and with the ladies. however, she's always been good at getting what she wants. cont: very long fic, squirting strap-on, cunnilingus

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 — 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 023.

exhibitionism | agent!peggy x lieutenant!reader summary: there's nothing quite like a classic 1940s sapphic romance, except the element of 'forbidden' doesn't apply to you; you're eating your wife out under her office desk as she speaks to - or least, attempts to speak to - her military soldiers. cont: office sex, cunnilingus, fingering, edging

🎃 OCTOBER 025. [POSTPONED]

aphrodisiac | witch!agatha x hunter!reader summary: during one of your hunting sessions in the woods, you stumble across a little wooden shack that wasn't there before. your curiosity gets the better of you, but you aren't prepared for what lies beyond. cont: non-con, sex pollen, riding, power bottom

🎃 OCTOBER 027. [POSTPONED]

caught masturbation | college!kate x professor!reader summary: kate's your best student, diligently attentive in your lectures. who knew that there were hidden intentions behind all that attention she paid to your teaching. or more specifically, you. cont: age gap, professor kink, humiliation, fingering

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 — 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 029. [POSTPONED]

brat-taming | bimbo!wanda x sugarmommy!reader summary: what was supposed to be a relaxing day off at the bar turned awry when your pretty little girlfriend stepped in. wanda has a little too much fun toying with those sleazy men, so it's up to you to teach her a lesson. cont: bathroom sex, spanking, hair-pulling, degradation

🎃 OCTOBER 030. [POSTPONED]

omegaverse | omega!natasha x alpha!reader summary: while visiting your sister, kate, at the avengers compound, you stumble into none other than the black widow. there's big reputations, miscommunications, sexual tensions, and a whole lot of hot sex. cont: flirting, seduction, heat/rut, mating bite

🎃 OCTOBER 031. [POSTPONED]

mirror sex | barbie!wanda x gynecologist!reader summary: a sequel to 'doctor's orders'. wanda's curious nature to explore her new body intimately leads you to purchase a full-length mirror in your shared apartment. you teach her everything she needs to know. cont: fingering, guided masturbation, power play

credits to @cafekitsune for the line dividers i will be using

do not copy, edit, or translate my works.

kinktober requests || main masterlist || ao3

[kuroshioi]

Hi hi mootie! ❤️ I originally had an small idea I wanted to write on Jing Yuan with an assassin reader, but gave up lol. Okay so: She was assigned to assassinate Jing Yuan, but found it difficult to even meet him; getting her chance to complete her task at hand it backfires on her! Inspo

Your writtig is so yummy! Also do you ever plan on writing Aventurine? i can provide you basic info on Aventurine for writing <3

cw: nsfw, mdni, fem!reader !!

Jing Yuan x reader nfsw !!

wc: 460+ !!

note: aawwh tysm for showing love and appreciation for my writings and I do plan on writing Aventurine so you're always welcome on my inbox or dms for providing info abt him !!

. Originally you were meant to be a skilled and strong assassin that was supposed to assasinate the cloud knights general so how did you end up in this situation..?

it wasn't rare that Jing Yuan would have people chasing after him because of his position, skills and what not.

and because of such matters he wasn't that concerned when he first realized your presence in the countryard while he was drinking tea but of course he did keep his guard

one time you took a slight glance out of your hiding spot to see his face and he decided to test the waters by making direct eye contact with you and how you immediately hid back in your place made him chuckle under his breath.

He tried doing anything and everything to tease and annoy you without making you realize that he knew about you.

Why? Because it was fun :)

there was no reason for him to tease you like that but for him it was so fun to see you frustrated, a blushing mess for embarrasing yourself for the huge mistakes because..

because...?

why?

it didn't make sense but it did something to him nevertheless.

Three weeks already passed, the organization that hired you was now demanding that you find a way to kill him or atleast try to hurt him as much as possible and you didn't know how and..

another thing was that

you felt like slowly falling for him

you didn't know what caused you to have such feelings for a person who was supposed to be assassinated by you so you tried to ignore such feelings

and unfortunately you had to choose the last resort and threw your feelings to the side..

or did you?

you decided to assassinate Jing Yuan while he was sleeping in his room midnight

of course... It was hard to pass around the guards, some even put to eternal sleep by you because of how annoying they were but the end you finally reached your destination

his room.

you gently opened the door to see the man sleeping shirtless in a king sized bed

"wow...I didn't know the general needed such a large bed just for one person"

you thought to yourself as you took silent steps near him and pulled out your dagger

you felt bad like really bad..

you didn't want to kill him you didn't want to do this but you had to.. you already signed the contract and took the money

so you closed your eyes and just as you were about to kill him you felt a hand grip your wrist tightly

your eyes opened up and widened in shock

"wait- what?"

just as you were about to come to your senses the general immediately threw your body to the other side of the bed by the hand he was griping (don't ask if it even makes sense idk bruh)

and sits up and cages you in his arms

"Now tell me my dear, who you might be and what you are doing in my own chambers hm?"

He said with a smirk looking at you

now the rest is for you to imagine <3

[aethertetsuya]

DP x DC

A House that Love Built.

Bruce Wayne has a reputation for adopting blue/green eyed kids with black hair. Many thought he was seeing himself in these boys (trauna of his parents death) and is just trying to help.

The true reason is that he's building a family (more like a cult) for his beloved. A family of Vigilante.

See, when Bruce was training with the League of Assasins, one night while exploring, he fell in the pits. There he met Danny.

Danny helped him navigate the realms, and even trained along side him under Ancients. They fell in love. Danny became Bruce's ray of sunshine. And Bruce became Danny's voice of reason.

On their graduation, Danny is Crowned King, and Bruce is gifted a special cape, imbued with the power of each ancients. Unfortunately, Clockwork had to cut their time short. "It is imperative that Bruce return. He can not stay. But fear not, you will be reunited"

The two bid each other farewell, and Bruce awoke in his LOA bed (no time passed) and on his hand is the cape. It wasnt a dream. Examining the cape he found a glowing sticky note. "When 7 souls resonate, on a night when the planets and moon align, star-crossed lovers will be reunited and wed" -CW

That's our story so far.

[littlest-w01f]

Lady Bloodshed

Cassian x Assasin!OC (Kiera)

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: She was the deadliest assassin in the Night Court, someone who could do anything for the right amount. Her newest mission was to take down the general of Night Court, but something held her back once she was face-to-face with him

Cw: Suggestive MDNI

part one - part two - part three

The Court of Nightmares was silent, hushed whispers flowed in the air, the clicks of heels sounded, and the owner of those heels smiled at the people who skittered away at the closeness with her, she stood in front of the diaz where the High Lord sat, his inner circle surrounding him.

"Happy winter solstice, My lord." Kiera bowed in greeting, her red glittering dress flowing perfectly down her toned body, the bodice sticking to her upper body like a second skin, gold and diamonds decorating her neck, shoulders and arms, a tiara on her head, a deep blood red siphons on the back of both her hands, her hair was half up in a bun and the rest flowed down to her hips.

"Kiera," The High Lord said strained, "It is a surprise to see you here, lady."

Lady. Lady Bloodshed. The subtle title made her smirk, "It usually is, my lord. Can't a female enjoy a party?" She raised her brow at him, Rhysand knew she wouldn't cower to him, he had stopped trying years ago.

"Of course, you can." His voice didn't match his words, she could see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out what she was up to. She took that as her leave and moved to the table set up with different types of wine, taking a chalice and drinking deep.

She felt someone approach her before they could even get within arms reach of her. She spun around a knife that was in her bodice now that the male's throat.

Cassian raised his hands in surrender, his own glass of wine in hand, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, "Now, now, my lady, I'm just here to introduce myself to the female called my darker half."

Introduce, because they weren't the same people they were while they were faelings.

"Of course," Kiera smiled, setting her knife back to her bodice in a way that Cassian couldn't figure out, "Lord of bloodshed."

"In the flesh," Cassian smirked, his siphons glowing red with a slight pride in them.

Kiera turned away from him to walk but Cassian followed, "Did Rhysand ask you to babysit me? I think we stopped that years ago."

The four of them had been friends, her, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel, they had been close, but now they were merely familiars. She had taken the counterpart of his title after she had left the adoptive brothers, as an insult or to use as an extension, she couldn't decide.

Cassian gave her a grin, "Well, Rhysand thinks whoever you are here to kill might just be under out noses."

Right under your nose. She didn't say. She was here to assassinate him, Cassian, the general of Rhysand's armies, Lord of bloodshed. But he bathed in blood during war, she had grown up around it.

"Well, whoever poor sod it is, should feel lucky they are under the High Lord's protection." Kiera chuckled, letting him walk with her.

"So, would you like to dance, my lady?" Cassian asked curiously, a smile still playing on his lips as he offered her his hand.

She looked at his hand, she needed him vulnerable if she were to take his life, so she agreed.

Perhaps it was a mistake, to accept his offer. Kiera thought as he twirled her the music, the rest of the inner circle had also joined in on the drinking and dancing under the eyes of their High lord.

Cassian and Kiera were shamelessly using the dancing as an excuse to feel each other up, two hundred years, it had been two hundred years since the last time they had met. Cassian had changed a lot physically, a lot more than she had, and she did not pass up the opportunity to feel his biceps from over his clothes.

They danced in the middle of the halls, Cassian's hands held her tightly, feeling up her waist and hands, a smirk on his lips as he couldn't help but note how much smaller her hand was in his.

She tried to ignore the feeling of his hands feeling up her body, the teasing smile that formed on his face as he brought her in closer, "For someone with such a feared background, I thought you would've gotten taller. At least you are a little more muscular."

"Oh, Cassian, you know what they say about small packages..." Kiera rolled her eyes at that, trying to not let the fact that she had to tilt her chin up to even see him get to her. "We carry more of a punch."

Cassian twirled her around so she was pressed chest to back to him, his hands feeling on her waist, then she realised, he was looking for where she hid her knives. "Well, this package here isn't small in any sense. Never really has been. Still has the same punch though."

"Is it always sexual innuendos with you, Cassian?" She inhales sharply, feeling something poke her at the base of her spine.

"Not just innuendo, my sweetheart." She could feel his hands inching towards her breasts as he leaned down to whisper. "I could show it to you really well."

Hours. It had been hours of them simply dancing and having their back and forth. Teasing touches all over, Kiera found her hands playing with the base of his wings, teasing the membranous wings that he carried, hence the hardness she felt pressed against her now.

She turned around to look at him, her hand once again tracing the thick membrane of his wing, both their eyes dark in lust as Cassian growled, "I'm taking you home, my sweetheart, sorry, my lady bloodshed."

Kiera smirked, he had given her a chance to pull away, but she reached up on her tiptoes, licking across his lips when something in him snapped as he gripped her tightly in his arms and flew her up and out of Hewn City, the scent of their arousal making the other crazy as it coated the air.

{Cassian Taglist: @novalovi}

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 9: Bees (Wind & Legend)

Ao3

CW for blood and injury and torture

————————————-

“Well, isn’t this just so pleasant? When I woke up this morning, I said, ‘You know what I wish? I wish I could spend my day in a cell that smells like sweaty men and thousand-year-old bananas.’”

Wind can’t help but roll his eyes at Legend’s sarcastic drawl. He doesn’t like it either, of course. Being cooped up in the Yiga hideout isn’t how he wants to spend his afternoon either. Time had promised to spar with him and he had been really, really looking forward to it. But there isn’t much they can do about it now.

If the assasins had tied them up with ropes, then they would have escaped hours ago. Wind is no novice when it comes to undoing knots. But chains? Their smithy would be better equipped to handle that sort of thing. And, unfortunately, the Yiga had only gotten the jump on him and Legend.

“What do you think they want anyway?” he asks if only to distract his brother from continuing his lament about his spoiled afternoon.

Legend lets his head fall back against the wall with a pouty clunk.

“The champion, probably. These guys hate his guts.”

Wind cocks his head. From this angle, the pile against the far wall suspiciously resembles human bones.

“Because he’s a hero, right?”

“Yeah. Because he’s a hero.”

“I wonder if they hate all heroes then,” Wind says, thoughtfully. He doesn’t really care, to be honest. But anything to keep from pondering the mysterious objects and substances strewn about the place. “Or if it’s more of a one-person thing. Like they only hate Wild, cause he foiled their evil plans.”

“The first one, to tell you the truth,” comes a voice from the space right in front of them.

Wind jumps, red hot pin pricks traveling down to encase his scalp, neck, and arms. Beside him, Legend goes rigid.

A Yiga assassin bursts into existence in a cloud of red papers. He raises his hands the way Wind and Aryll used to when they were presenting one of their plays to Grandma.

“You know one hero, you know them all,” he drawls. “That’s just the way of things. Which works to our benefit, actually.”

“Oh good,” Legend snaps. “Since you’ve figured out the inner workings of us heroes, you must know that we’d never give anyone up to you. Especially, a brother. So, if you’ll just take these chains off, we’ll be on our way.”

The Yiga chuckles. He squats down in front of Legend, leaning forward so that his face is inches from the veteran’s.

“I like you,” he hisses. “You have spirit. It’ll be fun to make you scream.”

Legend pales, though he manages to keep a scowl on his face. The Yiga digs his fingers into the hero’s shoulder and hauls him to his feet. Wind’s stomach lurches.

“Don’t hurt him!” He shouts, scrambling up. He wishes he had his sword and shield, his boomerang — something to get them free. “He doesn’t know anything!”

It’s a hopeless attempt and he knows it. But it still feels like a punch in the gut when the Yiga throws back his head and laughs.

“Oh, he knows things, I’m certain of it. You both do.”

He shoves Legend toward the door, then grabs Wind by the ear and pushes him in the same direction. Wind sends him a blistering scowl, which he pointedly ignores.

“Walk, you two,” he growls, shoving his sickle into Legend’s back. Exchanging an exasperated glance, the heroes stumble forward.

The assassin forces them down a set of stairs and into the main room. A small group of other Yiga awaits, formed in a semi-circle towards the middle of the floor. They spread out as their companion nears, allowing them room to enter their little huddle. Wind can practically see their sadistic grins shining from beneath their masks.

For all their comic obsession with bananas, these guys give him the creeps.

One of them grasps him by the shoulders as he walks forward and yanks him to a standstill. He stumbles, lifting his head just in time to see the original assassin practically drag Legend into the center his Yiga companions have made.

The veteran trips over a bump in the floor and tries to catch himself. But the assassin delivers a swift kick to his shins that sends him sprawling.

“Vet!”

Wind lurches forward, fighting to reach him. His captor holds him fast, however. And he can do nothing but watch as Legend picks himself up, face pale and eyes glinting.

No sooner has he gotten to his feet than he is back on his knees, gloved fingers holding him down and in place.

“I will now ask you a question,” one of the Yiga purrs, stepping forward on cat’s feet. “And I hope, for your friend’s sake, to only have to ask it once. Where is the Hero of the Wilds?”

Wind catches Legend’s gaze from across the room and holds it.

I’m sorry.

Amethyst irises darken in determined resolve. Pale lips press tighter as he nods once, short and quick.

“You know what to do, sailor,” he calls.

He does. Wind takes a deep breath. He does know what to do. But it’s gonna take everything he’s got to do it.

“I don’t know,” he says. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

He can tell even through his mask that the assassin holding Legend has narrowed his eyes. In the next second, a sickle gleams. It swoops down like a graceful gull, heading straight for Legend’s middle. Wind doesn’t even have time to scream out a warning.

It slices through tunic and flesh and keeps going, ravenous for more. But the Yiga won’t allow it to satiate its appetite. He yanks it out. Blood splatters the floor. Beneath the overhead lights, it looks similar to the rubies Wild likes to collect.

Legend’s eyes go wide. He chokes, a cry begging to break from between bloodied lips.

“No!” Wind screams, jerking to get free. But a dagger finds his neck and abruptly, he stills.

Cackles echo around the room as Legend sags in his captor’s grip. His face is deathly pale now. When he raises his eyes to Wind’s, however, that fierceness is still within them.

“You see the pain that your friend is enduring,” the assassin hisses, tilting his head. His grip on Legend tightens and a low whine emanates from the veteran. “So, spill it, boy, before it gets much worse for him. We know that you know the answer. Where is Link?”

“Maybe you weren’t listening before, because I told you I don’t know where he is!” Wind retorts. It’s a battle to keep his voice steady, but he manages. Contrary to what some of the heroes think, this isn’t his first time facing the enemy.

…though it is his first time watching a brother be tortured. That’s an experience he could have done without, thanks very much.

The assassin motions. One of the Yiga moves. Quick as a flash, he zips forward, and brings his weapon screaming across Legend’s cheek. His skin splits open, a gleeful crimson smile beneath his left eye.

Something between a growl and a half-scream bursts out of Legend. He curls in on himself, bound hands clasped into fists. His breath comes in tight little gasps that make Wind’s chest tight.

“Every time you refuse to cooperate, we will create a new mark on him,” the assassin snaps. “So, I suggest you start talking. Unless, of course, you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

“You bunch of sadistic idiots,” Legend croaks. “Did you not hear him? He doesn’t know anything.”

Another Yiga rushes forward. And this time Legend screams. A large gash runs across his arms and chest, cleaning separating the collar of his tunic from the rest. Blood oozes from it, only worsened from his weak attempts to pull away.

Wind feels his breakfast rise into his throat. Desperately, he drags his attention from his brother, even as blood runs down Legend’s body and drips onto the floor, even as he drags in wheezing breaths between clenched teeth, scream tapering off into a whine.

He has to find them a way out of here before it’s too late. And there must be one, there must be…

A small disk of gold glitters not far from where he kneels. In the rush of fear and fight for bravery, Wind hadn’t noticed it. But now it holds his gaze.

Legend has used something like this before, he realizes with a spark of hope.

“Tell us where he is!”

It is another assassin now, pushing forward and shoving the previous one aside. He reaches out and clamps his hand around Legend’s throat. The veteran chokes, face flushing and breaths gurgling.

“Tell us or we break his skinny, little neck!”

“Not yet! We still need him!”

“Well, the kid isn’t talking. This’ll make him real chatty.”

Slowly, carefully, Wind stretches out his leg. His foot connects with the hard object and he begins dragging it towards him.

Little by little it comes. And still Legend gasps. Still, he struggles, trying to tear at his captor’s skin, to kick at them, to escape. Still, his blood drifts away to pool beneath him.

“I can’t tell you!” Wind shouts, even as the hope within him grows and blossoms into something larger. Almost. He almost has it.

“I don’t know!”

Two more agonizing seconds tick past. Legend’s face is completely red now, eyes bulging as he tries and fails to fill his lungs with air.

Panic whirs in Wind’s ears, making him lightheaded. But the disk is within his reach. Gnawing his lip, Wind nudges it into his palm.

He doesn’t spare a moment to look down at the designs etched upon it, doesn’t give their attackers even that long to realize that he has found a way out. He takes a deep breath and feeds some magic into it.

It heats in his grasp, hungrily taking the power he offers and turning it into something useful. Something mighty and fierce and…

Wind’s eyes widen as a hoard of small flying things catapult out of his palm. The room fills with a deafening buzz as their wings beat together, propelling them towards their targets. Screams and shouts of terror quickly follow.

The Yiga scramble back, desperate to evade the stingers outstretched to pierce their skin. But they are not even close to as fast as the bees.

For that is what they are. A swarm of furious, yet very courageous bees.

The Yiga’s hand leaves his shoulder, the dagger falls to the floor. Seconds later, his chains fall with it, unlocked by the crafty bees. They buzz happily at him as Wind leaps to his feet, a triumphant shout on his lips and a thankful grin on his face.

The room is chaos. The Yiga try to fend off the vicious insects, swiping at them with windcleavers and sickles and daggers. But their weapons are useless against them. Even when they manage to strike down one, one hundred more appear, each angrier than the last. But never once do they harm Wind.

They part as he rushes to Legend and the only thing he feels is the wind of their wings.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a bee medallion?” He cries, grinning. “This is the coolest thing ever, vet!”

Legend looks up at him as the sailor drops down beside him. He lies in a pool of his own blood, eyes half-lidded and skin as pale as a redead. But he manages a small smirk.

“Never needed to,” he croaks. “Never thought I’d use i-it again. ‘Sides one of you would wanna borrow it.”

Wind reaches out to rest a hand on Legend’s arm. All his joviality is gone now at the sight of him, replaced instead by horror and sorrow.

“‘M sorry, Legend,” he says, sudden tears flooding his eyes. Roughly, he brushes them away. “I’m sorry they hurt you.”

Legend’s hand encloses his. He tries not to focus on the dampness of his fingers, or the crimson that smudges against his skin.

“You did good, sailor,” the veteran whispers, breath hitching on the last word. “You did real-really good.”

Wind smiles through his tears. “Well, I’m gonna do even better.”

He squeezes Legend’s hand and gets to his feet. Their pouches and weapons are propped against the far wall. Squaring his shoulders, he breaks into a run, headed toward them. With luck, one of them will have a fairy or potion remaining.

“I’m gonna get us both out of here.”

[butterscotch-goat]

Charles (+ ghost!Charles) doodles (ramblings under cut)

today I was thinking about how I feel like I gave Charles the name "Charles" based off of another, similarly unhinged, character's name, but I couldn't remember who it was, then I heard someone talking about Assasins (the musical) and it clicked that I had heard the name "Charles" from CHARLES GUITEAU the guy who assasinated U.S. PRESIDENT GARFIELD. His song is my favorite in the whole musical and the vibes fit my Charles very well ,, but the lyrics are too specific to Guiteau's situation to put it in my OC playlists...anyway those were some doodles I made inspired by this production of Assasins. CW for depiction of hanging if you plan on watching it, the music alone is still VERY good though! And yes that is Neil Patrick Harris

[creepypasta-archive]

The new killer

by Amer the sorrow killer A Story rescued from the wiki purges, and literally used as the example of "What Not To Submit" on the Quality Standarts of Creepypasta Wiki CW//murder, swearing, stabbing Click below to read the full unedited story

This is my about how I was made a killer I swore an oath to try and kill Jeff the killer with Jane because this story is about how he made me one of the killers.

When Jane was sent to hospital because of the blazing house of Jeff's I saw the entire thing,I was watching Jane but she never noticed me because her eye's were focusing at Jeff and his knife tapping the window off his house he was also looking at her with a devious smile I could he was doing that because Jane was creeped out the next thing I know is that Jane is gone and after a while Jeff twitched his head and looked at me I looked away for a slight second and the next thing I knew was that Jane went out her house with a kitchen knife and I was thinking "Jane don't go in there you'll get your self freakin killed!" but it was to late she was hesitating as she was about to open the door and then the next thing i knew was she went in and then after a hour or so I heared screaming the voice of an elf and then the house was blazing with fire.

The next thing I knew was that fire trucks were swarming the whole neighborhood everyone was looking at the Blazing house the flames were so powerful and then the next thing I knew there were several bodies burnt being pulled out from the house including Jane but she had a white face "Jeff must have bleached her and set fire to her face!"But I forget about it all because I was so tired and put it aside and just went to sleep....

When I woke up I gasped and was shocked and I trembled in fear as I looked to the side of my wall there was writing wrote in blood saying: I'm gonna enjoy killing you today Jeff,I was so nervous so I went out my room forgetting to wear my clothes and then when I went int he dining room I was screaming and sobbing as I looked at my parents and siblings they were all dead "JEFF YOU"VE GONE TO FAR YOU ASSHOLE!" I thought to myself as I was being claustrophobic of thinking Jeff killing my family at night.

My family's faces were carved with smile's just like Jeff's smile that I saw last night plus they had bloody torso's a size of a basketball and I was to paralysed in fear so call the cops because I was having thoughts that Jeff would kill me by suprise when I was talking so I just went to my room looking at his writing once more and I was so furious that I punched the wall so hard my fist went throught it and I thought to myself Tonight at midnight Jeff I'm going to assasinate you for doing this to my family so I just put on my clothes and went to school still after the incident that happend to my beloved family.

I was not gonna tell my friends though because it was my business and I had to settle it at midnight but I could not stop frowning because every second I was thinking about my family and their carved smiles even at recess and lunch I was still frowning and I could not be bothered to play and after a while my friends came to sit down with me and said what happend Amer? I didnt reply at all then some girls came and asked me the same thing but I just walked away. At the end of schoolI just ran to my house because I could be bothered wasting my time taling to ym friends and saying goodbye at all.

It was 12.00 at midnight and I had a knife in my hand gripped tightly ready to assasinate Jeff,then I heard a shatter and I was ready to take him on he opened the door of my room and said his phrase"Go to sleep" he tried to aim at my hand but he missed and got me in the cheeks instead I screamed In pain because half of my face was ripped off and then i heared another shatter and thought it was a trespasser but I did not have the time to worry about the trespasser I was trying to kill Jeff but Jeff said"Backup huh don't worry I'lll kill him but what Jeff didn't know was that the imposter kicked the door opened and Jeff was slammed against my bed.

The trespasser was a girl judging by her long hair and she was wearing a creepy mask but Jeff was not satisfyed at all being hurt he was chuckling and saying "Ahh Jane you look more beautiful than ever with that mask and fake wig", I was really startled and said Jane is that you? she replied and said "Yes it's me Jane everlasting here to kill Jeff now stay out of the way!" I asked her how she knew Jeff was here but she didn't reply at all because Jeff had a trick up his sleeve and he kicked Jane int he stomach and got a knife and threw it at me but I dodged it then he threw another but I didn't dodge but it went to the side of my eye so it didn't go to my brain. I screamed in agony and forget about the pain and fought against it then I charged at Jeff I speared him in the torso And I kept on stabbing him in the shoulder and I was about to stab him in the brain when he punched me in the face and tripped me and was about to stab Jane in the brain but I got up and threw the knife at his hand which he was holding his knife with and got him he screamed and said "Next time you will not be so lucky!" and he bailed. I told Jane "Don't worry Jane I weakend him so next time we will get our vengeance" Jane replied "but you injured also half of your face was ripped off by a knife he threw for some reason and you only have one good eye!"I know Jane but it does not matter I am one of the killer's now"

This is my story draw my face if you think you can describe me

[samlamwambam]

Critical Race Theory in the CW Series: Arrow

Transcript: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SK4r5rn2i3Dz-4ymnkxqZKCOHO811h-41PcMA-WOxqA/edit?usp=sharing

Arrow (2012-2020) is a CW superhero show surrounding Oliver Queen, a millionaire playboy who gets stranded for 5 years on an island called Lian Yu after a Yacht trip with his father goes wrong. Upon getting rescued by a Chinese fishing boat, Oliver returns home with an agenda. He vows to protect his city as a vigilante, whom the police captain of the series later names “Green Arrow.” 

My video essay discusses Critical Race Theory in relation to Arrow. Television, while fictional, is ultimately a reflection of societal values and the show runner’s world view. Critical Race Theory is the concept that the biased perception of race in society impacts the representation accepted in media, which leads to unintentionally distorted depictions of characters of color. 

In chapter 5 of Ella Shohat and Robert Stam’s book, Unthinking Eurocentrism: Multiculturalism and the Media, Shohat and Stam discuss the diffulcty for the media to properly represent people of color due to their obsession with “realism” in a eurocentric society. This theory is especially reflected in the character Diggle, the only person of color for a while in the eight years that Arrow runs for. Diggle, played by David Ramsey, is introduced in the very first episode as Oliver’s bodyguard, a respected but nevertheless inferior position to our protagonist. In Shohat and Stam’s section “The Racial Politics of Casting,” they point out the recurring theme that “Europans and Euro-Americans have played the dominant role, relegating non-Europans to supporting roles and the status of extras.  By episode 3, Diggle displays his abilities, fighting off an assassin from Oliver and his “friend,” Laurel. Throughout this exchange, Diggle gets caught in a headlock, forcing Oliver to come to the rescue and skillfully strike a knife into the hand of the assassin to give Diggle a leg up. Thus, Diggle is placed inferior to Oliver in both employment and physical skill. While some may find this sidekick role is crucial to the superhero narrative, it is also reflective of the level of representation accepted in the media. When looking at other pieces of media, it becomes evident that this relationship of white protagonist and black sidekick is a pattern. Examples of this trope can be found between Captain America and Falcon, and Iron Man and War Machine. Arguably, in both these situations, in the MCU, both Falcon and War Machine are no longer sidekicks - this also eventually becomes true for Diggle, which I’ll discuss later in this post. However, it took years for this to happen and these are only recent developments to their character. 

Arrow further displays Eurocentric practices in its depiction of foreigners and foreign countries. “Inscribed within the play of power, language becomes caught up in the cultural hierarchies typical of Eurocentrism. English, especially, has often served as the linguistic vehicle for the projection of Anglo American power, technology, and finance” (Shohat 191). In Arrow, whenever a foreigner shows up, Oliver never has difficulty communicating with them because they all speak English. Even when Oliver is known to be fluent in another language such as Russian or Mandarin, both Oliver and the character(s) he is addressing opts for English. Examples of this can be seen in episode 3, where Oliver immediately assumes that Yao Fei, the skilled Chinese hunter also stranded on Lian Yu, speaks English. Despite Yao Fei answering in mandarin, his immediate understanding of Oliver’s English reflects a Eurocentric  presence in the show. 

In season 3, the show revolves around Nanda Parbat, a made up land that serves as the headquarters for the League of Assasins, who’s native language is Arabic. The show designs the headquarters with influences of South Asian and Hinduist architecture styels. Nevertheless, the immortal leader of the League of Assasins, Ra’s Al Ghul consistently chooses to speak English, even in private conversation with his daughters Nyssa and Talia Al Ghul. Some may argue that as an immortal being, it makes sense for Ra’s to be fluent in multiple languages such as English. However, Eurocentrism is also present in the wedding scene between Nyssa and Oliver, where the marriage officiant conducted the entire ceremony in English. 

Delving deeper into the relationship between language and power in media, Shohat and Stam point out that ““People do not enter simply into language as a master code; they participate in it as socially constituted subjects whose linguistic exchange is shaped by power relations” (193). The correlation between language and power is prevelant in season 1 episode 3. In this episode, Oliver must prove himself to be Bratva, a Russian mob group of this universe, in order to gain the respect of two mechanics representing the Bratva. Oliver asserts his credibility, Oliver begins the conversation in fluent Russian. Upon confirming Oliver’s position as Captain in the Bratva, the two mechanics adapt their speech to suit Oliver’s most comfortable form of communication by speaking in English. This switch in language indicates the switch in power that Shohat and Stam were referencing in their book, as when Oliver wanted something, he appealed to the mechanic’s first language and vice versa. 

Arrow, while conforming to Critical Race Theory in many questionable ways, ultimately readjusts its treatment of POC characters by the end of the series. This is done most noteably through the addition of the new Team Arrow, which consists of all POC heroes who, unlike the dynamic between Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle, see each other as equals and dismantle the hierarchy among teammates. This adjustment is still a reflection of Critical Race Theory as the show is aligning itself with society’s push for equal and proper representation of marginalized groups in 2016. 2016 was the year Trump was elected President, exposing a deep divide in America in regards to race, ethnicity, and culture. “The sensitivity around stereotypes and distortions largely arises, then, from the powerlessness of historically marginalized groups to control their own representation” (Shohat 184). Reflecting upon this point, the changing demographics of the Arrow cast in 2016 is reflective of the social scene during this time.  

Lastly, as mentioned before, Diggle becomes much more than Oliver’s sidekick by the end of this series. Diggle’s character is most reflective of Critical Race Theory as he goes from being Oliver’s bodyguard to his best friend to his sidekick to his replacement when Oliver goes missing. Each of these identities however, while he becomes a more important and well loved character, is dependent on Oliver’s relationship to him. Furthermore, in Robert Stam and Louise Spence’s work titled “Colonialism, Racism and Representation: An Introduction,” they point out that “We should be equally suspicious of a naive integrationism which simply inserts new heroes and heroines, this time drawn from the ranks of the oppressed, into the old functional roles that were themselves oppressive” (757). Thus, by having Diggle become the Arrow in place of Oliver, Arrow supports the biased fantasy of a black man slipping into the role of a white vigilante without consequence. Nevertheless, by the end of the series, Diggle begins to form his own identity outside of what it is in relation to Oliver. Diggle begins to prioritize his wife and children, and by the last episode, he makes the decision himself to turn down the opportunity to become Green Lantern. This decision is momentous because in the earlier seasons, Diggle wanted more than anything to be a hero and measure up to Oliver’s legacy. By allowing Diggle to choose his own narrative that swerves from audience expectations, Arrow reflects the shift in racial bias and the progress within the television industry, as showrunners are now taking initative to minimize the othering of POC characters. After all, “a film inevitably mirrors its own processes of production as well as larger social processes” (Shohat 187). 

Braudy, Leo, and Marshall Cohen. Film theory and criticism: Introductory readings. New York: Oxford University Press, 2016.

Shohat, Ella, and Robert Stam. Unthinking Eurocentrism: Multiculturalism and the media. London: Routledge, 1994.

@theuncannyprofessoro