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winterreigned · 1 year ago

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𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒. sansa stark prides herself on her ability to remain composed. she's a planner, truly. she foresees events, determined to anticipate anything that can occur, any surprises, any emotions. truthfully, even when she drinks, sansa takes just enough to be able to let loose, though never enough to lose control. sansa stark is always in control ──── until right now, until theon greyjoy.

she has to laugh internally, for everything she had thought about him may have been right, yet she's falling victim to it in this very moment. she gave him an inch, now he is taking a mile from her (whether he is aware of it or not). she cannot help but hear catelyn stark's warning to her as a young girl in her head ' stay away from boys like theon greyjoy '. sansa simply scoffed at her mother, feeling she would never stoop so low. though sansa's track record speaks for itself: joffrey. he may have appeared to be better than this, but no, he was not. he was worse than anything theon greyjoy could've done. her poor mother would have a stroke knowing her beloved daughter was hundreds of miles away getting charmed by the very boy she was warned about - in her brother's bed no less. no, no. this wasn't charmed, this was a booze fueled irrational thought. she will continue to tell herself this throughout the night, despite knowing she should be leaving now.

eyes narrow at him as he reaches across her to grab the menu off the fridge. it was all a very blatant display ── though she cannot, for the life of her, figure out his need to act accordingly so. sansa loves puzzles, she loves determining the motivation behind other's actions, yet once again theon greyjoy has left her stumped tonight. this confusion is shadowed by the feeling of anger coming over her, for the intended effect is swirling throughout the pits of her stomach, causing sansa to remain speechless and just watch as he acts like... like a right prick. it takes everything in her not to smack him with the menu when he dangles it in her face, but it also takes just as much restraint not to ever so slightly lean in when his face is inches from her own.

now daggers are coming from her eyes, and she can't shake the feeling that she is letting him know he's winning. especially as he is practically slandering her name to the pizza place. no, this cannot do. sansa has brothers, she knows how to fight dirty. springing into action, she shoves her whole weight to his chest, forcing him down onto the bed. using the element of surprise, sansa snatches the phone from theon's hand, using her other hand to pin down his arms. she is ignoring the fact she's practically straddling his lap, ignoring every warning sign in her brain to tell her to disengage immediately.

❝ no, no, ignore him, he's unwell! ❞ she shouts urgently into the phone, ❝ we'd like the buffalo chicken. ❞ there's silence on the other end of the line, and she's confused. tilting the phone screen towards herself, she's absolutely livid, yet biting back a laugh. oh, that was brilliant, she'd give him that - secretly. tossing his phone aside, she shakes her head, curtains of red curls tickling his face as she leans down to look at him. ❝ ha - ha, ❞ sansa sarcastically drawls from atop.

it is in this moment she now realizes she wields the power he had moments ago. she's not sure of this game they're playing, where it's giving just enough without giving anything at all. but sansa loves games, she's competitive, and she intends to win. how a victor is determined, she is unsure, but there won't be satisfaction until theon greyjoy is begging on his knees (begging for what, she dares not allow herself to think). ❝ i think this means you now have to treat. ❞ her voice is low, hushed, yet her eyes don't leave his as she hovers slightly above him. her face is now once more mere inches from his, but she dares get closer than he did ──── for sansa stark is a winner.

𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍 staring at his dorm ceiling right about now. would find him pretending he is not here or there. or isn't much of anything at all. and where should he go next , though that is his least favorite topic. it's all a bit too philosophical for his own tastes , but if he doesn't catch the thoughts they'll only rattle off the insides of his brain incessantly. he is grateful that there is no rattling tonight.

theon hears raised voices outside their window. nothing out of the ordinary for a college campus. they draw his mind away temporarily , reminding him that something exists outside of the moment they are currently sharing. and something about that disappoints him. it's foreign and confusing — that pang in his chest. reminds him that robb could be back any minute. back to take this away from them. ( what even is this? theon doesn't think she knows any better than he does. but he's sinking into it at a pace he can't control. ) and maybe it really is just the liquor. enjoying time with his brother's younger sister? thinking that he might actually want more of it? theon is beginning to think he did not need that last shot.

he squints his eyes , considering her offer only for a brief moment before snatching the card. ❝ alright , plain jane. have it your way. ❞ theon smiles and digs his phone out of his back pocket. he looks past sansa , over to the fridge in its spot at the foot of robb's bed where takeout menus were fixed onto the door with random magnets. now , he could be perfectly normal about this. could just get off the bed and walk over to the fridge. but he's four shots in. and he doesn't feel like playing normal. or fair. he shifts forward , angling his legs so that he could get up on his knees. he leans over across sansa's body , one hand on the mattress on the opposite side of her from his legs. other hand reaching out for the correct menu on the fridge. once it's in hand , he begins to shift back into his spot. stops halfway , his face dangerously close to hers. gives her a shrug and holds up the menu. ❝ needed their number. ❞

back in his spot , he dials the number on the front. puts the phone up to his ear and pretends as though he actually made the call. ❝ hello. yes , takeout. dorm C. room 412. i'd like the most boring pizza you have on the menu. ❞ he looks over at sansa now , raising an eyebrow. ❝ right, sansa? ❞

#the hold this thread has on me #likenothing else matters LOL #i NEED TO LEARN TO WRITE LESS I'M SORRY.#also not me asking you “hey can she do this to him” BFJRKGBEK #prodigum : theon #prodigum #08. modern | taking the political world by storm.

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fire-lady-ilah · 4 years ago

Note

I would be fascinated in any ideas you had about how the hunt for Aang would go with 'good parent Ozai' AU!

Ask and ye shall receive! (@tiktokonaclock, here’s that part two you asked about). This continues from where I left off in part 1.

At first, Ozai says no. He has good reason to do so, Zuko is the Crown Prince, should he and Azula die then he will be heirless— he doesn’t know if Ursa would be able to bear another child, nor does he wish for another. In a less logical way, his mind protests because that is his son. Sixteen, yes, but still very much a child. That isn’t even the age of conscription.

He knows that the Avatar is a child, Commander Zhao’s report said that he appeared to be twelve, travelling with two other children that were closer to Azula’s age. He knows that his children make a formidable pair, he has no doubt that, together, they could be able to take on entire battalions of soldiers.

They are his children and they are Ursa’s children. How could he just let them go out to face an enemy such as the Avatar?

Zuko has Ozai’s charisma and awkwardness (as they come together, though few remember the way the Fire Lord used to stumble over his words as a teenager). Zuko looks so much like his father that sometimes older servants even refer to him by his name. But Zuko is equal parts his mother. He has his mother’s kinder nature, and he has her drive. Ursa’s persistence is one of the only reasons the Fire Nation is flourishing as it is now. Ozai knows that it had been suffering near the end of his father’s rule, he knows that he is an amazing military leader, just as he knows that it is better to leave his wife in charge of the majority of domestic policies.

It is that persistence combined with Azula’s carefully crafted wording that she also got from her mother that makes both Ozai and Ursa cave and give permission for their children to hunt the Avatar. Sometimes, Ozai wonders if his life would be easier if he didn’t love his family so much.

Zuko and Azula leave the Fire Nation together. Zuko is sixteen and looks the very image of a Crown Prince, even if a few hairs escape his top knot and fall across his face. Azula is fourteen and looks every bit the Princess she is. A single hair escapes it’s place and she leaves it be. She would not dare call attention to imperfections, just as Ozai himself wouldn’t. He is full of pride as he watches his children board the ship (the second newest design, as advanced as possible while having already been tested. He would not let untested technology take his children from him permanently). Captain Jee stands on the deck, greeting them. Apparently he had been demoted from his position at some point for assaulting an Admiral.

(He remembers the day he discovered the Captain’s existence well. Zuko had been eleven and helping him look over military documentation that had been sent to him to approve. One of such documents had been Jee’s demotion to lieutenant.

“I remember him. He was Lu Ten’s friend.�� He heard his son mumble as he touched the included portrait of Jee. Closer examination showed that it had been drawn by his nephew himself. His son had loved his cousin, and he was not against doing things to make him happy. If Jee was loyal to Lu Ten, it only meant he would be more likely to be loyal to Zuko.

“I will have him transferred to the palace guard.”)

He proved to be honourable in the guard and had quickly been promoted back to captain after Ozai heard the true reasoning of the assault through Zuko’s horrified voice. He himself cared little for the affairs of military officers, but if it made his son happy to sign the papers for the Admiral’s dishonourable discharge and imprisonment, so be it.

That action had only solidified Jee’s loyalty to his son (and by extension, his daughter).

Now, I’m conflicted on whether or not Iroh would go with them. I’m leaning toward yes. Neither of them have been hurt by their father, but Zuko is still the most naturally kindhearted person in the royal family and he is destined to be Fire Lord. Azula has more empathy than she does in canon (although that’s not saying much), I doubt Iroh would comment that she’s “crazy and needs to go down”. After all, Ozai loves both his children here. That means that he doesn’t intentionally harm their mental health, nor does he encourage competition between them. They both want to make both their parents proud. If nothing else, Iroh would go with them so that he could stop them.

Thus, shortly after the Crown Prince and Princess of the Fire Nation step onto the ship, the Dragon of the West follows. It is filled with the best of the Fire Nation to seek the only bender of all four elements.

A stark contrast to canon, no?

The hunt progresses somewhat like in canon, though not. Lo and Li instruct further Zuko and Azula in lightning bending.

(“Only a hair out of place, Princess Azula.”

“That means I shall achieve perfection soon.”)

Iroh takes over his nephew and niece’s firebending training, though Azula is a master in her own right and Zuko is nearly a master as well. He forces them back to their basics.

Zuko yells and stomps and Iroh is reminded of his brother at the same age, back before his brother became the monster he is now. The same brother he sees glimpses of when Ozai is alone with his wife and children, the same brother that he sees none of in the Fire Lord. Azula is silent and moves to do her basics without complaint. She unnerves him, but he still loves her.

He loves them both. And he loves what remains of his brother in Ozai, even if he would choose the balance of the world over the Fire Lord in an instant.

They visit Admiral Zhao first. He declares that he has already captured the Avatar and that he would be more than willing to transfer his prisoner onto the royal family’s better equipped ship.

The siblings visit the chained Avatar. Zhao speaks of what he plans to do.

That is the thing about Ozai loving his children. Loving them means protecting them from certain cruelties, at least more than he did in canon. Zuko and Azula both see the Avatar, only twelve, and Zhao’s words overlap with Azulon’s orders to their father when Lu Ten dies. After all, Zuko had been only a year younger then.

That night, the Blue Spirit and the Dragon Emperor break the Avatar out of the stronghold with dual dao and twin daggers as the Prince and Princess sleep in their luxurious cabins. If that isn’t completely the truth, no one says anything to suggest as such. The Blue Spirit is knocked out by an arrow to the forehead. The Dragon Emperor does not allow the Avatar to remove the mask.

(“How did you not see that coming, Zuzu?”

“In my defence, you were supposed to be watching my back while I pulled the Avatar away.”)

They meet the Avatar’s companions briefly before the Emperor gestures to the rising sun and they disappear.

It is only after the escape of the Avatar that Iroh begins to consider the siblings further.

They pen a letter to their father.

Ozai reads between the lines and wonders, just once, if perhaps he had sheltered his children from the reality of war too much. He does not wonder again because he knows the alternative would have been far worse.

Instead, Ozai speaks with his wife. Ursa is a complex woman, but the Avatar is the reincarnation of her grandfather and she has an actress’s mind (and thus she has a politician’s mind).

As their children chase the Avatar, the Fire Lord and Lady put their own plan into motion. Canon Ozai may be content to lay all responsibility on his children, but this Ozai is actually a decent dad.

The siblings are free to enter Fire Nation territory as they wish and have no reason to sneak into the temple, even still they do. They watch as a Fire Sage, one of the highest religious authorities in the Fire Nation, disobeys the Fire Lord to help the Avatar.

Zuko’s quick fingers undo the water tribe boy’s restraints as Azula’s undo the girl’s. They share playful smirks, after all, neither of them are in any danger. They are a powerful team and they have their father’s unwavering support.

(“Why did you just untie us?”

“Zhao’s a dick.”)

Avatar Roku emerges in place of Avatar Aang. He pauses in front of the children, the girl that has Rina’s smile, the boy that has her hair (his own hair), always trying to escape from its confines.

They do not waver. They do, however, run when the Avatar begins to destroy the temple.

The siblings believe the Fire Nation is the greatest in the world. They believe that it is their duty to spread their glory to the other nations. But, late at night, taking tea together, they consider that perhaps Fire Lord Sozin went about it in the wrong way.

(Great-grandfather says hi, Ursa reads aloud from their children’s letter. Not for the first time, Ozai regrets sending his children on such a dangerous mission. He knew that Avatar Roku had been spotted on Crescent Island, he knew that he had blown up the temple. How close had his children come to being blown up?)

The Avatar sets course for Omashu. The siblings make a stop in the Fire Nation while they’re nearby. They have a friend to pick up.

Parts: [1] [3] [4]

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years ago

Note

Nsfw headcanons for the Obey Me boys with a dom reader?

I’m so gonna regret this, but, as I had to do some...Educating (reading online ofc)...I hope this is actually okay and that I didn’t disappoint!

I will be using the “ Asmo Time “ (hope it’s not already taken or something) for any NSFW writing, I guess :D

Also, sorry for not actually writing for everyone, but rn I can’t really stand Belphegor, and I have a hard time coming up with something different for Beel, despite liking him a lot =/

So...Without further writing...

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

----

Lucifer

Normally, this guy wouldn’t, for the hell of it, let you dom, because obviously...He is THE Sadistic Dom Top!

But today is your birthday, your once in a lifetime opportunity, your lucky day to experience what’s it like to have Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, look up at you with lust and need in his eyes, squirming so much in hope of release and biting his lip to stop his moans and will to beg, because of his pride not to step so low, so much that he draws blood unintentionally.

You tie his hands apart on the bed post, blindfold him, take his pants off and unbutton his shirt, all while talking in such a firm yet alluring voice that he almost doesn’t recognise you.

His dick is up before you even get to touch his skin.

You kept a feather from his wings from some time ago, and now it’s the perfect opportunity to tease him.

You softly trace his neck, down to his chest, and to his abdomen, until you reach the line of his boxers, where you just let the trail just barely touch his, and you can see his body arching slightly as it followed the feather, and a soft growl erupts from his throat.

“What is it, darling~? Do you want me to touch you that badly? Why, then, you’ll just have to ask me oh so very nicely for it, don’t you think~? Do you deserve to be touched by me, I wonder?” you tease him SO much, because honestly, he deserves every little bit of it.

You trace his lips with your thumb, and then lift up his chin and make your lips barely brush his, as you say “You don’t get to cum unless I say so, okay, darling? Otherwise...There will be consequences.”

“You will have a lot to pay after this day is over, MC.” he threatens, but you slap his face, before you put your hand on his throat. “Did I allow you to speak, Lucifer? No? That’s what I thought. Now, now, how to punish you, I wonder...” you would giggle darkly as you get out his riding crop and start tracing his chest and abdomen, until you hit the inner side of his thigh, making him squirm and barely hold in a groan of pleasure, as blood started to come out of his lip.

You finally take off his boxers, letting his erection stand tall, and you straddle his waist, grinding yourself on it, letting your wetness drive him crazy, as you roam your hand up and down his body, occasionally touching his erogenous zones, biting his neck, choking him or making him suck on your fingers, and in the end it was all so much, that he came without realising, not able to hold in his moan anymore.

You merely hummed in amusement, wiping away the cum and tutting in disappointment as you take off his blindfold and look at him with a mock-upset look.

“What a naughty boy you’ve been...Disobeying your Mistress...Tsk tsk, guess you really need a great dose of discipline.” you put his dick inside you as you leaned in and started biting and tugging at his bottom lip, licking away all the blood, before sitting tall again, tracing your tongue over your lips with an amused face. “Your blood is really sweet, Lucifer.”

Your ride him dangerously slow, teasing him with more dirty and teasing words, until you’ve had enough and wanted to cum yourself, and you changed the pace, touching yourself, being on display, enjoying the torture that he can’t touch you.

This goes on for the rest of the right...Until midnight comes and your birthday is no more, and his smirk is so huge and evil, knowing that you’re really gonna regret (and enjoy) your little day of indulging in your fantasies.

---

Mammon

Mammon is already a switch very close to a Big Bottom Energy, so it’s really not all that difficult for you to take the reigns and dominate him, he will really enjoy it anyways.

He’s normally one for very soft and gentle love-making, not exactly into the whole inflicting pain thing, mostly wanting to having HIS MC close to him, feeling your body touching his and all that, but once in a while, he doesn’t mind letting you have your fun with him, whatever it is that you want.

Honestly, if you deprive him the possibility of touching you, he’s gonna be so whiny and pouty, so you better punish him so he will stop being such a baby.

Choke him, tie him up, talk filth to him, take his hands and suck on his fingers while straddling his waist and grinding on his erection through the fabric of his boxers, tease him while you guide his hands up and down your own body, you name it, he will do anything you want, especially if it pleases you.

But...Seeing you suck on his fingers with that expression of lust in your eyes, while you veeeery slowly rock your bottom part back and forth...

He’s gonna be SO loud, whining, panting, moaning your name, you think the whole Devildom will know that you’re the one that’s making him such a mess under you.

“Mammon, dear, you should be more quiet, or else the whole house is gonna hear you. We wouldn’t want Lucifer barging in...Or would you...~?...Oh, I should shut you up myself.” your devilish grin could put even Lucifer in his place.

You face sit him, letting him eat you out until you’ve reached your orgasm, all while guiding his hands where you wanted, and making him lick you clean, because he’s a real good boy.

“What a good boy, Mammon, I think you’ve earned a little prize for today. Do you want it, Mammon? Tell me what you want.” you grin as you tease him even more, making him whimper, his eyes glistering with tears from the teasing.

“P-Please let me cum, M-Mistress!” he’d moan as you already put his dick in you and started bouncing up and down, rewarding the both of you.

---

Leviathan

HUGE SUB ENERGY!!!

You’re his Mistress and he will obey your every need, every wish, anything, with no protest, except his burning face, poor dear.

He is okay with topping and bottoming, but now you want to tease him by only allowing him to do what you say, with no exception.

“Come on, Levi, take off my clothes.” , “Let me guide your hands, Levi. You need me for even that.” , “Be a good boy and make me cum. If you do, I may think of letting you too, today.”

Hearing you speak like that will get him so eager to be the good boy you keep praising him that he is.

Will finger you while licking and sucking at your clit, wanting to put off the best performance he can, doing all the filth that he’s seen in his hentais, wanting to hear more praise, and your moans and telling him to go on, the tugging on his hair...

He’s so into it that he almost forgets about how painful his erection actually is, especially covered by his boxers and pants.

After he makes you cum, you tell him to lay down and you take off his clothes, tie his hands to the bed post, putting your hand around his shaft and slowly pumping up and down, holding eye contact and enjoying every little moan, whimper, groan and twitch of his body.

When you start licking the tip, you can already feel the salty taste of precum - which each lick, each provocative smirk, graze of your teeth against his sensitive skin and veins, with each moan you let out, he’s so close...

But you don’t let him.

You move away from him, leaving him a panting and begging mess, almost crying, saying how it’s not fair what you’re doing...But how could you not edge such a cute boy? Especially when he can’t touch himself?

So you take your phone and put on an episode of TSL, while you sit comfortably on his chest, not letting him watch it, only hear, and he’s so bratty, it’s adorable.

When you’ve had enough fun teasing him, you take off the restraints and tell him to get on top, in the “Glowing Triangle” position, which is basically teasing him that he’s in control, but you’re the one who controls the thrusts and speed of it.

And what better way to continue teasing him with touches down his spine, pinching nipples and leaving love bites all over his body than this one~?

---

Satan

It was during the Butler event, where he kept calling you Mistress and he made it a personal competition to be the best Butler from the 7 brothers, but even so, it was obvious he’d attend to your every need without a second thought.

You, however, decided to mess with him quite a lot, so while he brought you some tea and you took a sip from it, making sure it’s not too hot, you told him to kneel down in front of you, order to which he immediately submitted, and you poured the tea from your thigh down to your ankle, with a mock-gasp.

“Oh no, I spilled the tea, how awfully clumsy of me! Satan, would you be a dear and clean up this mess for me~?” you lean back in the seat of the armchair you were sitting in, and raised your leg up, leaning your head on your hand, looking down at him with a condescending expression.

“Certainly, My Lady. I live to serve My Lady, so My Mistress’ words are my command.” he replies with a smug smile, as he started kissing, licking and leaving soft love bites from your foot, all the way up to your inner thigh, which he put on his shoulder, and looked at you with an obviously fake expression

“What else would My Mistress want me to do for her?” he asked, definitely enjoying this as much as you did.

He’s a God at eating you our and driving you crazy, and he obviously enjoyed pleasuring you so much, now being the perfect opportunity to see you in all the perfect light, a dominating Goddess, the only one who could ever tell him what to do.

When you’re done with that, pull on his hair until he’s to your eye level, pin him down on the armchair and start leaving love bites, from his jawline, to his neck, down to the chest, abdomen, teasing him just as you get to his dick.

Give the tip of his erection a kiss, a lick, let it wet, and then blow on it, and watch the way Satan grits his teeth in desperation, feeling exposed and unable to take away this feeling of need.

“Have you been a good slave, Satan?” you ask, as he licks his lips in anticipation.

“Yes, Mistress, I would sure hope so.” he asks, doing his best not to break character, as he’d just want to grab you and fuck you on the spot, but his ego doesn’t let him.

Lucky him, you were more merciful today, and with a sly smirk on your face, you take him in so fast that his snaps his head back with a groan, and your fast pace is so torturous yet so good that he finds himself lost in another world, and his sweet release is the best he’s ever had.

---

Asmodeus

He doesn’t care if you’re a dom or a sub, a top or a bottom, he just wants to enjoy himself and you, so who cares? Have fun, girl, go all in, do all your fantasies, he’s the perfect man to experience them with!

Put him on a leash and tell him to be a little obedient slave, and he’s already a mess below you.

He’ll be so needy and would beg all the time for you to touch him and do what you want with him, to fuck him, to punish him, to make him forget his name and the world around him.

He’s not the Avatar of Lust after all, correct~?

“Aww, Asmo, look at you. You look so good with that collar around your neck, and you staying on your knees at my feet...I might actually think of having you wear that every day from now on, just so you don’t forget who you belong to.” you threaten with a sweet smile, as you grab his collar and pull him to your eye level.

You’d have had him on a chastity belt for just a few days, and now that you took it off, he was finally feeling better, so eager for you to touch and punish him in any way (as long as you don’t do anything to his precious face)

Whip him as much as you like, bring the riding crop, get the hitachi wand and edge him, leave bite marks all over his body, all while making sure he doesn’t touch you or himself, otherwise he’s gonna just suffer even more.

He’ll moan and scream out your name even louder than Mammon, he has literally no shame or inhibitions, he just wants to let himself get lost in pleasure and emotion, and knowing it’s you who’s doing everything to him...Even hotter.

Edge him as many times as you feel like, only letting him cum after he’s done as much begging as you want, and when he’s crying from the need for release, and after that, he’ll feel like on Cloud 9, so happy that he’s lost his mind.

Obviously, he’s going to return the favour some day, but for now, he loves being your slave and seeing you so full of confidence, enjoying yourself as you’re using him to feel pleasure.

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songofclarity · 4 years ago

Note

Out of sheer curiosity, what do you think of Wen Xu. Any HC?

Two Wen Xu asks came in back-to-back and I could probably have answered them both at once, but I'll use your daring moment of sheer curiosity to focus on headcanons/theories I have for him, Anon~!

Similar to Su She, who caused problems while lurking in the background, I think Wen Xu, who also caused problems while lurking in the background, is our guy who has been inciting several other rising conflicts between the Qishan Wen and the other sects over the years. He doesn't need explicit orders to do this, mind you, because he is simply doing what any self-respecting son of the Qishan Wen Sect would do. Just like the Twin Prides look to the Jiang motto of Attempt the Impossible and the Twin Jades look to the 3,000 Lan rules, Wen Xu is also guided by Clan tradition:

The Wen Clan used the sun as the motif of their clan, signifying that they could "compete with the sun for radiance, match the sun in longevity." (ch. 17, ERS)

The sun, however, is beautiful and warm and radiant all on its own, which means he doesn't have to play nice with the other sects if he doesn't want to. In fact, it goes against policy to treat the other sects as equals! Therefore, with him being the predominant Wen outside Nightless City, it seems apt to assign these events to him:

1. Monopolizing all the prime Night Hunt locations and excluding the other sects, which made the other sects resent the Qishan Wen even more

Remember Jin Ling setting up those 400 golden nets? That's expensive and entitled! I imagine Wen Xu was our first Jin Ling, except rather than using 400 golden nets it's Wen Xu and his friends and Wen favorites who are staking claims on all the best sites. They're having a fun time and everyone else can cry about it! Remember that guest cultivators love being with the Wen Sect! It likely comes with plenty of favors, and Wen Xu as Wen RuoHan's eldest son had much to offer to gain and keep their support for the Qishan Wen.

2. Pushing the Waterborne Abyss from Qishan into Gusu Lan territory, making it a Lan problem and making the other sects resent the Qishan Wen even more

I headcanon that this event is what eventually prompted Wen Chao to daringly declare that he killed the Tortoise of Slaughter. Did Wen Xu declare that he had killed the Waterborne Abyss (which would sound absurd since the only known way to defeat it is to drain the lake and keep it dried out for years)? Or did he own up to how he simply got rid of the problem? Either way, he made Qishan safe, which is what any cultivation sect is supposed to do for their region.

The Qishan Wen are good to the Qishan Wen and the common folk beneath them. It's really only the other sects that take issue with them and see them as a threat.

*Please remember that the Qishan Wen Sect isn't an empire. They aren't trying to take over the world. They are simply seeking dominance and prominence, with all the power and prestige that comes with it.*

3. It's canon that Wen Xu led the attack on Cloud Recesses, that he accused QingHeng-jun of something to validate this assault, that he ordered Lan WangJi's leg broken when he stood in their way, and that he is responsible for the death of QingHeng-jun (whom I headcanon died due to critical burns from the fire)

The big question here is what, exactly, was Wen Xu/the Wen accusing QingHeng-jun of? It could be something real: neglecting his duties or even something to do with Madam Lan, since we really don't know her backstory. Or something overblown: having two sons who wear clouds on their ribbons, and clouds block out the sun, and those two sons did better than the Wen in the archery competition, so it must be an anti-Wen conspiracy, etc etc. (Wang LingJiao had to learn that logic somewhere!) The latter appeals to me the most, and highlights how Wen Xu was a role model for his little brother. The difference being that Wen Xu had experience handling other sects without getting everyone killed.

Frankly, that Wen Xu destroyed Cloud Recesses and got their Sect Leader killed and made their second Sect Leader go missing and all the other sects let him get away with it just reinforces, to me, that he has indeed been up to no good for a long time and that he is incredibly strong in his own right. Although Wei WuXian comments that the Wen Sect has a higher proportion of weak and incompetent disciples/subordinates, I headcanon that Wen Xu is not one of the weak ones.

But also Wen Xu is not bloodthirsty. He did what he needed to do and the only one left dead was the one that the Wens had a undisclosed problem with: QingHeng-jun. Wen Xu is strong but he has restraint. He never pushed anyone into a corner which could incite a rebellion, which was Wen Chao's mistake.

Until Wen Xu finally did push too hard:

4. It's canon that he went against Wen RuoHan's speech which effectively said to leave the Qinghe Nie alone. By ignoring how Wen RuoHan said that Nie MingJue would not bend, he pushed the Nie into a corner and bit off more than he could chew and got himself beheaded

All the Wens appeared to agree that the Sunshot Campaign was just an act of arrogance on the part of the other sects. The Wens did not take it seriously during those first three months, and therefore neither sought to squash it out or defeat it.

Wen Xu is what proves them wrong when he gets himself killed.

But what was Wen Xu doing in Hejian!? I headcanon/theorize that he was trying to end the Campaign on his own terms. Wen Xu was used to winning and used to the sects capitulating to Wen power and presence. Cloud Recesses was already destroyed and Lan XiChen is no threat, Lotus Pier was conquered and the Yunmeng Jiang were annihilated, and the Wens expected the Lanling Jin to come crawling back to them when things got too rough. This left the Qinghe Nie as the last foe, and thus Wen Xu went on his own prerogative to take Nie MingJue out and claim dominance for the Qishan Wen once more.

RIP Wen Xu

I don't say all of this to somehow make Wen Xu look evil--the Wens aren't evil and I don't understand why some readers want to dumb down the whole story by shoving them into a little evil box--although I guess I headcanon him as having a big head and being something of a bully lol. He's just being the same kind of pompous rich kid like Jin ZiXuan and Jin Ling except he has actual power and authority to back it up. The Qishan Wen are the biggest, richest, most powerful sect. He is the one who will one day inherit it as he is Wen RuoHan's oldest son. So he is both simultaneously protecting the Qishan Wen name as well as reinforcing it's power. He is endearing himself to his father by "fixing problems" and "taking care of unruly sects" before the problem even reaches Wen RuoHan's ears. Considering what we see and hear from Wen RuoHan, and how Wen RuoHan fails to make decisions he's not already being ushered into by a third party, Wen Xu and others are very much pro-actively promoting the Qishan Wen on their own terms.

Wen RuoHan is thus very happy with this loyal and righteous son of his! And it leaves Wen Chao striving to follow in Wen Xu's footsteps.

I headcanon that Wen Xu is much older than Wen Chao, like at least 10 years older if not more. (Who knows how old Wen RuoHan is? However old or young I want him to be at any given time! lol) This puts their relationship in a funny/annoying range of Wen Xu being the big brother but also old enough to pull the adult/parent card. Wen Chao has poor cultivation and he's the baby, which is why he gets Wen ZhuLiu as a bodyguard while Wen Xu, who is arguably quite strong, just gets to run around with his subordinates. Wen Xu is the jock big brother who pushes Wen Chao's buttons and it looks like they hate each other--but I also headcanon that Wen Xu likes seeing Wen Chao succeed in whatever dumb thing Wen Chao decided to do today and Wen Chao wants to grow up to as respected and powerful as Wen Xu (and Wen RuoHan) one day. They are not adversaries although there is competition and conflict between them.

And, as I mentioned before, we get Waterborne Abyss vs Tortoise of Slaughter competition between them. Both of them don't believe it! Father, he is not that competent!

Wen RuoHan laughs it out and disagrees, because he appreciates that both his kids are doing amazing feats. (Are they though? Are they???)

Then there are headcanons of Wen Xu and Wen Qing! Their families were close because they are family and their parents were BFFs! I have yet to decide if I want Wen Xu or Wen Qing to be older. Da-ge or Da-jie? One idea I like for them is that they were close as children, but maybe grew up and went their separate ways a little. That Wen Qing never renounced the Wen Sect makes me hold fast that she did love her family and clan, even if she didn't agree with what they did for their sect. Wen Xu wasn't a bad guy even if he did bad things. (She disliked Wen Chao but maybe she liked Wen Xu a little more lol)

I headcanon Wen Ning's outstanding archery involved Wen Xu giving him some hands-on assistance. (Da-ge? Da-ge...!) Like everyone else in the Wen Sect, I headcanon Wen Ning would have also wanted to impress Wen RuoHan and be noticed by him, too. They didn't keep it a secret from Wen Chao on purpose, it just turned out that way especially since most of the work was done by Wen Ning. (Wen Xu was at the discussion conference but he didn't watch the archery competition, instead teasing it was for babies in order to make Wen Chao cross. Wen Xu likes Wen Chao but he needs to grow up!)

There are also headcanons about his mother, but that's a whole rabbit hole of its own lol My main headcanon is that Wen Xu and Wen Chao have the same mother, but she had difficult pregnancies that resulted in them being born years apart. Madam Wen and Wen RuoHan had wanted a large family and sadly only had two sons. Wen Xu did not grow up short on affection, which resulted in him wanting to protect the Qishan Wen name even more.

I headcanon that Wen RuoHan is a good father and his relationship with Wen Xu was very good, although of course it does not come without it's own difficulties and conflicts at times. (Considering how terrible all the other fathers are, statistically there should be one good one, right?)

There are other random headcanons I could throw in here but I will finish this off by saying I don't have a solid headcanon on who is Wen Yuan's father, although I can see the poetic appeal of it being Wen Xu. Wen Xu burned down Cloud Recesses and said the Wen would help the Lan grow from the ashes. Wen Yuan grows up there as if reborn from the ashes by help of the Lan, given a new name and family, too.

(That Wen Chao is explicitly given a wife in canon makes me headcanon him as Wen Yuan's father though, as I also like Wei WuXian protecting Wen Chao's son for my own dark delight~)

I also tend to think of Wen Xu as someone running around and playing around and not quite ready to settle down. But Wen Xu with a wife and a family of his own? I would love to see it!

#asked from above #anon #wen xu #mdzs thoughts

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theplanetm4rz · 5 years ago

Text

Peter Maximoff is completely, utterly, and undoubtedly in love

pairing: Peter Maximoff/fem!bassist!reader

Summary: Peter had no idea a simple mission would change his life forever, He also had no idea how much he liked the bass guitar.

notes: fuck it. a series because I’m in love with peter maximoff

warnings: language, peter is a cute little bitch

________________________________________________________________

Peter knew the song even before he stepped inside the crowded bar, the bassline immediately ringing a bell in his mind. He smirked before pushing the doors open.

“That song,” he said, catching the attention of Hank who was standing close beside him. “It’s one of my favorites; Money by Pink Floyd.” Peter’s attention is turned to the bassist of the band on stage. His mouth goes dry, his eyes widening once the spotlight hits her. She looks ethereal in the stage lights, her eyes closed as her hands pluck the strings of her bass. She’s gorgeous, the look of concentration on her face going straight to Peter’s heart. He’s awestruck, and Hank notices.

“Peter,” he calls, trying to catch the young man’s eyes. He fails. “Peter,” he calls again, snapping his associate out of his trance. “We’re here to find the mutant and bring them to Charles, we shouldn’t get” he pauses to glance at the bassist, “distracted.”

“I’m not distracted, Hank, I’m super professional and always have my eyes on the prize.” he says, the smug sarcasm dripping from his voice. The band switched from Money to Barracuda. He fought the urge to look at the bassist again. Hank sees his restraint and smirks.

“Peter, if we find the mutant fast enough you might have a chance to meet her.” Hank turns away from the stage to order a drink. “Ya know, Charles said the mutant would be inconspicuous and well-hidden, so keep your eyes peeled.”

“Uh, Hank,” Peter said, his voice uncertain. “I think I found the mutant.” Hank whips around and sees the bassist floating a foot above ground, her eyes shut in concentration. Her eyes snap open, and the irises are glowing a shimmering silver, someone in the crowd shouts, ‘mutant scum!’ and she lands on the ground. The young woman shares a look with her band mates as the bartender calls the police. The bassist nods, and the guitarist gives a loud strum of her instrument. The bassist’s eyes glow again and she seems to convert the sound to energy, pushing away the few audience members that tried to charge the stage. The band makes a break for the back door, the guitarist turning continuously producing sound that the bassist uses to create a barrier between the now wild crowd.

Peter quickly grabs Hank and runs out back, watching as the group jumps into an old van. They’re laughing, like this was a fun endeavor for them. Peter speeds into the back silently, trying desperately to duck behind the seats. Their instruments provide good cover-- at least good enough for now.

“Holy shit, Y/n, that was insane!” the guitarist laughs. The bassist smiles.

“I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but hey, that's a helluva way to end our last performance.” the bassist speaks. Her name is Y/n. A pretty name for a pretty girl. The van is quiet for a minute before someone speaks up.

“So, Y/n, a couple cute faces in the crowd, huh?” the drummer teases.

“Oh, shut it, Danny, just because you can read minds doesn’t mean you know anything about me.” Y/n snaps playfully, a bashful blush on her face. It’s cute.

“I might not know much, but you were thinkin’ pretty loud back there. Hey, I’m not judging, he was pretty cute. His hair was weird, but he was cute.” Danny smirks.

“Looks like you got some competition, Y/n” the guitarist retorts jokingly.

“I’d never make a move, Cassie,” Danny says cooly, “He’s not my type, and Y/n called mental dibs on the silver cutie. Plus, he was totally into you too, his jaw practically dropped when he saw you.”

“He was probably looking at Cassie,” Y/n defends, the blush lingering on her face.

“I hope not,” Cassie sighs, “I’m tired of explaining my sexuality to people; asexual and aromantic, it’s not hard to understand.”

“His thoughts were deafening, he was definitely checking out Y/n, but don’t worry. He wasn’t being creepy like the other guys usually are.” Danny smiles. “The guy with the weird hair was completely smitten, I think.”

‘Are they talking about me?’ Peter thinks. ‘My hair isn’t weird.’

“It is,” Danny says suddenly. “It’s also weird that you’ve been hiding this whole time. C’mon out man, we won’t bite.” Peter slowly sits up, his head peeking out from behind the seats. No one seems shocked, besides the singer, who’s driving.

“You’re like us, right?” Cassie asks. “A mutant?”

“Yeah,” Peter says hesitantly. “I, uh, came with a friend. We were looking for her,” he points at Y/n, “we didn’t know you were all mutants.”

“Charlie isn’t,” Y/n says, gesturing to the driver. “They’re just a killer vocalist.” Her voice is like music to Peter’s ears, her movements fluid and graceful and wonderful and Peter realizes that Danny was right. He was completely smitten with a beautiful stranger. Peter glances up and realizes that Danny was smirking at him before looking at Y/n once again.

“Where’s your hot friend?” Danny asks, and Peter realizes he left Hank at the bar. Alone.

“Oh god,” Peter laughs slightly, “I left him at the bar. He’s… not very conspicuous.”

“You’re telling me,” Danny guffaws, “I almost lost control of my sticks once I saw him.”

“That’s not the only stick you lost control of,” Y/n mumbles and the van bursts out in thunderous laughter; including Peter. Y/n is oddly proud; she thinks his laugh is cute. Once the laughter died down, the bassist spoke again. “Why were you looking for me? I didn’t break any laws, did I?” Danny scoffs. “I didn’t break any more laws, did I?”

“No,” Peter says. He can’t believe he’s actually talking to her. And she’s talking back to him. And he feels like he’s going to pass out. “There’s a school in New York full of mutants. The headmaster got some info on you; he thought you’d be a valuable student to have. We came to ask if you’d be interested, but since all of you are mutants, all of you can come.”

Y/n glances at Danny.

“He’s telling the truth,” the drummer says.

“I’m in.” Y/n agrees without so much as a question. The band looks shocked. “Oh come on, where else would I go? We can’t live in this shithole forever, and just knowing that there’s a place where we’d be safe and accepted is enough for me.” Peter’s heart basically fucking explodes in his chest and he silently thanks the cosmic forces that she agreed. Danny hesitates before speaking.

“I’m in too. Y/n and I have been best friends since 4th grade, I’m not ditching you now. Plus, I have a bet to win” Danny smirks at Y/n before turning to Cassie.

“I don’t know…” she trails off, and Y/n silently begs her. Her eyes plead silently and Peter has a moment to study her features closely. She has a nose piercing and a plethora of ear piercings, her hair had streaks of wild colors in it and her eyeliner was smudged. One thought ran through his head constantly: she’s amazing. “Alright, let's do it!” Cassie agrees. Before anyone has a chance to ask Charlie, they speak up.

“I can’t.” The van is silent. “You all know it. I just… won’t belong. Even if I wanted to go, I wouldn’t be able to.” Danny nods knowingly.

“You have a family to tend to, it wouldn’t be fair to steal you away--” Y/n shoots him a look. “-- again” The group laughs again, and the mood lightens. Suddenly, Y/n speaks up.

“Hey Silver, what’s the school’s policy on small animals?” Danny and Cassie’s faces flash with realization, and the three of them shout in unison, “SEYMOUR THE SECOND!”

“Who?” Peter asks, completely confused.

“The light of my life, my pride and joy, my soulmate, my one true love...” Y/n rambles, and Peter’s heart drops with every word. She’s not single. “... my pet ferret.” oh.

“I’m sure Charles would make an exception for… Seymour.” Peter says hesitantly. “If not, I can always hide him for you”

“Really? You’re the best, silver!” Y/n playfully punches him on the shoulder and Peter practically dies on the spot.

“Uh, what’s your name?” Cassie asks suddenly, and the gang realizes they’d been addressing him as ‘silver’ the entire time. “I’m assuming your name isn’t your hair color.”

Peter chuckles, “No, my name is Peter, Peter Maximoff. My friend back at the bar is named Hank. Hank McCoy.”

“Hank McCoy, hot damn, isn’t that a name.” Danny jokes. Y/n giggles at his antics, and the sound alone makes his heart skip.

“So, you’re a telepath, you can manipulate sound, what about you?” Peter inquires, looking towards Cassie.

“I can see the future.” Cassie says nonchalantly.

“And you, Silver? What can you do?” Y/n asks, scooting a little closer to him.

“Uh, I’m, uh, fast.” Peter smiles at the young woman's face lights up.

“Oh god, here we go,” Danny groans despite the smile on his face.

“You have super speed?” Y/n exclaims, her eyes scanning him up and down. “Do you have heat resistance? You probably also have some form of super strength, right? Depending on what you can do you could also have the ability to manipulate gravity and inertia, oh my god you’re so cool!”

At this point, everyone noticed the way Peter’s face flushed and the way his pupils dilated and the way his cheeky grin only grew when Y/n would gush over his mutation. Danny couldn’t help but smile at Y/n’s thoughts, her mind buzzing with admiration for the silver boy who snuck onto their van.

The vehicle rolls to a stop and Charlie barely has enough time to unlock the van before Hank bursts in, grabbing Peter by the collar and pulling him out. Hank was blue again, and completely enraged.

“Are you insane!?” Hank shouts at the boy, now on the ground. “She could have killed you! Charles said the mutant was unpredictable and dangerous, you can’t just--” Peter cuts him off.

“She’s not dangerous. She’s strong, sure, but not dangerous. If she wanted to kill me she would have, and so would Danny and Cassie and, hell, even Charlie.” Y/n climbed out the van and walked over to Hank, sticking out her hand.

“Y/n L/n,” she grins, “that’s Danny Rodriguez and Cassie Mann, behind them is Charlie S’venstob.” Hank hesitates before shaking her hand, glancing over at the van full of young adults. Danny winks at him.

“I’m not gonna kill Silver, or you, or anyone else, I can assure you that. He was telling us about a school, a place where mutants are welcome and accepted and embraced. We want in.” Hank turns to Peter, who is once again gazing at Y/n with a love struck film over his eyes.

“Well, uh, we were only looking for one mutant, but I’m sure Charles can accommodate three more.” Hank says, his voice unsure.

“Two more,” Charlie says. “I’m not a mutant, and even if I was, I got a wife and a kid.”

“Well, then, two more. We should go now, we’re already incredibly off schedule.” Hank says, flustered and confused and tired. The group returns to Charlie, wishing them a teary goodbye. Hank walks over to Peter as they all say farewell.

“Peter, you just met her, you can’t go too deep too fast.” Hank warns. Peter just smiles a far away smile, his eyes trained on the mutant as she hugs Charlie.

“Too late.”

#peter maximoff #xmen fanfiction #xmen #quicksilver #evan peters #days of future past #xavier's school for gifted youngsters #fanfic #peter maximoff x reader

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singledarkshade · 5 years ago

Text

Stress Relief

Summary: Stuck with the annoying Lieutenant Coburn on a mission, Rip is being driven crazy. But it's a mission that will change his life forever. Author’s Note: Rip Week Day 4: Time for Romance – Rip is a romantic at heart, ship him with whoever you think is right for him. Any pairing goes. I chose Miranda and Rip. ********************************************* “Your mission is one that shall require you both to practice patience,” Druce said as Lieutenant Rip Hunter and Lieutenant Miranda Coburn stood side by side at attention in his office, “I was against pairing you two, considering your inability to be in the same room without almost every discussion becoming an argument. However, you have the specialities that are required to ensure that the mission is successful.”

“What is the mission, sir?” Miranda asked before Rip could.

“You are being dispatched to ensure that the exploratory mission to Neptune in 2151 is successful,” Druce stated, “We have received information that there will be an attempt to disrupt it.”

Rip glanced at Miranda before asking, “And this requires both of us?”

“You are to work together,” Druce ignored the question and continued, “Lieutenant Hunter, your technical expertise will be required to fix any issues with the probe that may occur, while Lieutenant Coburn, as the more qualified pilot, will be there to ensure that it is flown into the right part of the planet if required.”

“Sir, I can…” they both started, stopping and frowning at one another.

Druce stood, “These are your orders. You will be taking the Waverider.”

“Sir,” Miranda frowned, “Surely I should take my own ship with my own AI? Which was put together by the technical team and not...” she glanced to where Rip stood before finishing, “Hunter.”

“No,” Druce said, stopping her before she could argue, “One ship will be overlooked but two will be less easy to hide. I have made this decision and you’re dismissed.” When neither moved, he sighed, “Now.”

Druce watched as the two Lieutenants left his office. He counted to three before the door opened again and Rip appeared.

“No,” Druce stated sharply, “Lieutenant Coburn will be working with you on this mission and nothing you say shall change that. I understand that you two do not get along but, in a word, tough. Now get out of my office.”

Rip seethed in annoyance.

Coburn was not only arrogant but so uptight and smug that the next few weeks were going to be utter hell.

“Gideon,” he called as he entered his ship, the ship he had spent years returning to its former glory, “We have a mission and we’re going to have a guest for the duration.”

“The information has been uploaded to my system,” Gideon told him, “I have prepared a room for Lieutenant Coburn.”

Rip gave a slight smile heading up to the bridge, “Thank you, Gideon. Hopefully, this won’t last as long as Druce thinks it will.”

“Captain,” Gideon said. Although he was only a Lieutenant, Gideon always referred to him as Captain since he was in command of the ship, “Might I suggest that you look on this as a test of your patience.”

Rip rolled his eyes as he stepped onto the bridge, “Gideon, please stop channelling my mother.”

“Lieutenant Coburn is waiting to enter the ship,” Gideon told him.

Nodding Rip started his checks.

“Captain,” Gideon stated, “You are being childish.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “Let her onboard and show her where she’s staying. Although you probably shouldn’t refer to me as Captain while she can hear.”

“I am programmed…”

“I know,” Rip cut her off, “But considering Lieutenant Coburn’s love of the rules and how she will react to the title, especially since she’s going to be onboard for the next few weeks, please just do as I ask.”

There was several minutes of silence before Gideon replied, “Of course, Lieutenant Hunter.”

Miranda walked onto the Waverider, irritated that she was being stuck with Hunter for the next few weeks. Druce’s golden boy had a tendency to disregard whatever rules he didn’t feel like following.

The fact he had a ship before graduating to the rank of Captain was something that had rankled all of them. Fine he had rebuilt the ship and fixed the AI, but the basic fact still annoyed her.

“Welcome onboard, Lieutenant Coburn,” Gideon spoke up, “I have a room ready for you.”

Miranda nodded, “Thank you, Gideon. Where is Lieutenant Hunter?”

“He is currently on the bridge readying the ship to leave,” Gideon replied, “As soon as you have unpacked, he has asked that you join him.”

“Tell him I’ll be a few minutes,” Miranda told her, entering the room that had been set aside for her.

Dropping her bag on the bed, she unpacked the spare uniform she’d brought with her and hung it up. Grabbing her hairbrush, she pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail making sure she looked like a proper Time Master. Hunter may ignore the regulations regarding his clothing when not on the base, but Miranda was not going to especially as she knew it would drive him crazy.

“Finally,” Hunter rolled his eyes the moment she walked onto the bridge, “Are you ready to go now?”

Sliding into one of the seats, Miranda pulled down the restraint, “Ready. Although as I am the better pilot surely it would make more sense if I piloted.”

“The Waverider is mine,” Rip replied sharply, “I’m flying.”

Smirking that she’d managed to rile him, Miranda leaned back and said nothing as they took off for their destination.

*********************************************

Rip sighed in annoyance, they’d been stuck here for almost two weeks waiting to see if the suspected Time Pirates would show up to stop the exploratory mission to Neptune, a hugely important even in human history.

Coburn was driving him crazy. She insisted that they follow the normal training regime they would back at the Vanishing Point despite the fact they neither needed to, nor were expected to.

And she was everywhere. The ship was big enough that they shouldn’t have to see one another except when they swapped to watch over the bridge and yet, every time he turned around there she was.

Sipping tea, nibbling a biscuit (never eating it properly she always nibbled), playing with her hair, leaning on the main console as she studied information Gideon provided while tapping one foot against the floor as she thought.

“Gideon,” Rip called as he headed to the galley, “Is there any indication there are pirates anywhere?”

“No, Captain,” she replied, “Lieutenant Coburn has readjusted the scanners during the night to ensure accuracy.”

Rip let out a long sigh, “Of course she did. Can’t she leave anything alone?”

“The scanners are ten percent more accurate now,” Gideon told him.

Letting out an annoyed snort, Rip headed to make himself some tea. Pulling out a mug to make Coburn one as well.

“Does she want something to eat?” Rip asked, as he programmed breakfast for himself.

“Lieutenant Coburn has asked for porridge with apple and cinnamon,” Gideon replied, “Along with the tea you were already making for her.”

Rip looked down at the fact he had two mugs in front of him, he hadn’t realised he’d done that. With a shrug he grabbed a tray and put the two mugs plus their breakfasts on it. Walking onto the bridge, he was surprised by how he felt heat rise in his neck when Coburn smiled at him.

“I take it there was no sign of any pirates?” Rip asked as he handed her the bowl with her porridge and her tea.

Laughing she shook her head before she closed her eyes taking a sip of her tea.

“I will give you this,” she smiled at him, “You know how to make a good cup of tea.”

Rip shrugged, his neck getting hotter as he replied, “Well, Mother taught me a few things.”

Miranda chuckled amused as she began to eat. Even though this mission had been completely pointless so far, she actually enjoyed being on the Waverider. It was nice to spend some time away from the Vanishing Point, allowing her to go over some of her theories which to her surprise Gideon was really helpful with. Not to mention making Hunter do the daily training regime when he clearly found it irritating was fun.

They’d never gotten along.

They were both so competitive and it didn’t help that they were always pitted against one another. She also despised the fact that he’d had the Waverider since they’d been first year cadets. Logically she knew it was because his entry project was to rebuild Gideon, and he had managed it which allowed Gideon’s self-repair systems to fix the Waverider with his help. But it was still something that annoyed a lot of people.

However, over the past few weeks, watching him within his own ship had been interesting because it turned out he wasn’t as aggravating as she always thought him to be. When he didn’t realise that she was there, Hunter…Rip would sing to himself as he worked, on occasion singing with Gideon. She could see how much pride he had in the Waverider, it was kept in pristine condition and he worked on each system every few days.

To her surprise, he also made dinner from scratch rather than using the fabricator several times during the week. Miranda had been stunned when he made some for her as well but even more so that it was delicious.

“I can take over now,” Rip said as he finished his roll and sausage, “If you want to go get some sleep.”

Miranda shrugged, “I’m fine. Not really tired at the moment.”

He looked at her thoughtfully, “Well, Gideon can set up the firing range.”

“Is my company that awful?” Miranda teased, surprised at the soft blush that touched his pale features.

“Not really,” he murmured before adding, “I just thought you would want to get off the bridge for a while.”

“Gideon mentioned that you’ve been studying the Gosher Riots,” Miranda noted, it was one of the topics she had been given to study recently, “Any thoughts?”

Surprise touched his face, and Rip replied, “One or two.”

“You can’t seriously believe that?”

Rip shrugged, “All I’m saying is that it is highly unlikely.”

“All the evidence collected shows that it was what happened,” Miranda argued back, “Do you have anything to suggest otherwise?”

He mused for a second before nodding, “Druce let me borrow a diary from Helas that is part of his collection. The man who wrote it was a servant in the palace at the time.”

Miranda’s eyes lit up and she leaned forward, “You have one of the diaries onboard?”

Rip smiled at how excited she was at the prospect, “It’s in my quarters. I’ve been reading it the past few nights.”

“And you’re saying it disproves the theory?” Miranda demanded, as she started off the bridge.

Confused Rip followed her, “No, it actually claims that a chemical was used to start the whole thing.”

“So, you’re not a believer in the so called ‘Love Dust’?” Miranda laughed as she reached his rooms.

Rip rolled his eyes, “It’s preposterous. A chemical substance that makes you fall in love with another person is ridiculous.”

“Well,” Miranda noted, “To be fair it’s not falling in love, just an uncontrollable need for sex.”

Rip felt heat cover his neck again but thankfully Miranda wasn’t paying any attention to him as she just walked into his quarters and headed straight for his desk.

“Oh wow,” she murmured, gently lifting the diary up and turning a few pages, “This is incredible. Listen to this, ‘The sweet smell of the magical dust they covered the palace in filled the air and soon the floor was nothing but bodies, naked and writhing as they pleasured each other, their only intention to reach satisfaction’.”

Rip swallowed at the sound of her voice caressing each word.

“And what do you think of that?” Miranda asked amused.

“It’s a poetic description of an orgy that likely had more to do with copious quantities of alcohol than magical ‘love dust’,” Rip replied.

Miranda laughed, “Oh come on. Why can’t you believe in something that you are not able to put in a little box?”

“It’s preposterous,” he said again, “

“Well it’s not like we’ll ever know,” Miranda rolled her eyes before a mischievous smile touched her lips, “That time is forbidden so we couldn’t steal some to test it.”

Rip frowned at her, “What a shame,” adding sarcastically, “I really wanted to test your theory.”

“I have a small sample of the substance for you to try,” Gideon spoke up suddenly.

Before they could say anything the hiss of the air conditioning system preceded a sickly-sweet smell. Rip felt his head begin to swim, shaking it and blinking to clear his vision he tried to focus again. Miranda appeared before him, and it was like he was seeing her for the first time. Her dark eyes bright with her brilliant mind, her pale skin was glowing, a slight blush on her cheeks and then he focussed on her soft pink lips.

Rip found himself moving and pressed his lips to hers. Miranda’s arms locked around his neck pulling him close as their kiss deepened. Rip slammed into the wall as they stumbled slightly trying to get closer to each other.

Breaking apart for air, Rip trailed his lips down along her neck while she pushed his jacket off him. He moaned as Miranda’s hands suddenly slid along his stomach and in the back of his mind Rip realised that she’d undone his shirt.

It wasn’t long before their clothes were scattered over the floor and Miranda pulled him over to the bed.

Rip rolled off Miranda, breathing heavily and lay at her side staring at the ceiling trying to work out what had possessed him to do something so stupid.

And then he remembered…

“Gideon,” he snapped, “What the hell did you drug us with?”

“It was the chemical that is known as ‘love dust’,” Gideon replied.

“Why on earth would you do that?” he demanded, trying not to look at Miranda, “Why would you…”

“You requested the chance to test Lieutenant Coburn’s theory, which I gave you. However, the dose I gave you wore off within twenty seconds,” Gideon told him, “Anything that happened after those twenty seconds came from you.”

At his side Rip heard Miranda begin to laugh.

“Rip,” Miranda said softly, touching his cheek so he would look at her. And she looked gorgeous with tousled hair and pink tinge to her glistening skin, “This wasn’t a bad thing.”

“It’s forbidden,” Rip reminded her.

Miranda shrugged, “What is? We’ve been stuck here for almost two weeks waiting for something that hasn’t happened yet. This was just a little…stress relief. That’s not against the rules.”

“Stress relief?”

A slow smile touched her lips and she lay on her side leaning on her elbow, “I’m feeling very relaxed and I’m sure you were too. Before you started having a panic attack.”

Rip stared at her.

“Well?” she slid closer to him, “Were you relaxed?”

Swallowing he nodded.

Miranda softly touched her lips to his again. When she broke the kiss, Miranda smiled at him before sliding out of the bed, not bothering to cover her naked form.

“I’m going to have shower,” she glanced over her shoulder, “If you’re feeling a little stressed again, you should join me.”

Rip lay frozen for several moments listening to the water start.

Stress relief…

He slid out of the bed and stepped into the shower room; Miranda smiled when she saw him through the steam. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close when he joined her.

“We should destress a little more,” Miranda murmured, before adding, “And I need help washing my hair.”

*********************************************

Miranda wandered to the galley to get some tea before heading up to the bridge to check if anything had happened. They’d been here almost a full month waiting for an attack which so far hadn’t appeared.

Since their first ‘stress relief’ session they’d spent every night together, and Rip was getting a lot more comfortable around her. It was amazing how different he was now he’d relaxed. Miranda knew Rip was smart, you had to be to even be considered to be a Time Master, but he had always been very quiet. Although she knew he was one of the top students of their class, Rip rarely spoke up amongst the others. Only doing so when he had something specific to say, which was usually disagreeing with her, so she’d never got a chance to watch his mind work until now. He had one of those minds that worked problems at angles, solving them in ways she hadn’t expected. It was incredible, and completely unexpected, how well they worked together.

After they had a ‘stress relief’ session each night, they would talk. Going over theories and ideas that they both had, they seemed to connect in a way Miranda had never thought was possible with anyone, never mind him.

She knew that once their mission was over, she had to ensure they continued to spend time together.

“Yes, sir,” Rip said as Druce finished speaking, “I’ll tell Lieutenant Coburn.”

“Tell me what?” Miranda asked the moment Druce disappeared from the screen making Rip turn to find her walking onto the bridge.

He stood, “We’re being recalled.”

“Oh,” she grimaced, “Straight away?”

Rip smiled slightly, “No. They’re allowing us to witness the probe landing.”

“Oh,” Miranda grinned, “That means we have six hours.”

“Well actually six hours and nineteen minut…” he stopped as Miranda pressed her finger to his lips.

“That means,” she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, “We can ‘destress’ a few more times before we head back to base.”

Rip sighed, “This isn’t a good idea, Miranda. We both know what we’re doing, no matter how we label it, is against the rules.”

“Rip,” she breathed, “You have broken a lot of rules and gotten away with it.”

He winced, “But anytime I have done so was in the service of a mission. This is different.”

Miranda shook her head, “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Even before Gideon dosed us, I was attracted to you, but I had no idea how you felt about me. We’re allowed to care for each other Rip, no matter what they say.”

“But…”

“Do you enjoy being with me?” Miranda asked firmly.

Rip stared at her for a few moments before whispering, “Yes.”

“We’re not hurting anyone,” she reminded him, “And considering how much time we will spend on missions mostly on our own then,” Miranda brushed her lips to his, “A little ‘stress relief’ can’t be frowned upon.”

He continued to stare at her, his mind going over and over everything.

“Unless this doesn’t mean the same to you as it does to me,” Miranda sighed.

She moved away and Rip caught her hand making her turn back.

“I don’t…I’ve never…” he took a quick breath, “I’ve never felt like this for anyone, Miranda.”

Stepping closer to him again, Miranda took his face in her hands and whispered, “Neither have I.”

Rip rested his forehead against hers, “I don’t know how to do this.”

Miranda kissed him, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him close. When they parted, she murmured, “I don’t either, but we can learn together.”

Still holding onto her, Rip nodded, “Okay.”

“Now,” Miranda smiled, “We have just over six hours before we have to return to the Vanishing Point. Let’s ‘destress’ a few times before we go home.”

As she pulled him, Rip moved with her knowing he was in deep and realising he didn’t care.

*********************************************

“Lieutenant Hunter is not currently onboard,” Gideon spoke up as Druce stepped onto the Waverider.

“I know, Gideon,” he replied as he started through the corridors, “He’s currently being debriefed. I’m just here to retrieve the book he borrowed from me.”

“Of course,” she stated, “It is sitting on the desk inside his quarters.”

Druce nodded, “Thank you, Gideon.” Reaching the room he easily found the diary and lifted it, “Lieutenant Hunter will be busy for several hours, and a team will be fitting some new fabricators. Your scheduled self-diagnostic has been moved up to today.”

“I am not due for a self-diagnosis until next month,” Gideon noted.

Druce smiled, “I am aware of this, but this was the first long term mission you and the Waverider has been on since Rip repaired your systems. Soon you will be away from the Vanishing Point for extended periods of time and it’s best to ensure now that no problems will occur.”

“Your reasoning is sound, Time Master Druce,” Gideon told him, “I will alert Lieutenant Hunter that I have done this.”

Druce waited until he was sure Gideon was in diagnostic mode before he found the camera he’d set up in Rip’s room.

Rip and Miranda had a part to play in the future, but both had been annoyingly restrained despite the obvious attraction. He hoped this mission, with the planted chemical aphrodisiac, would push them where he needed them to go. In some ways they were both very predictable in what they would argue about and Druce just needed to ensure the material had been there.

Quickly checking through the film captured and smiled to himself as he watched the two of them getting intimate.

His plan was on track.

#ripweek #day 4 #fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #miranda coburn #gideon #zaman druce #hunterburn

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imaginedanganronpa · 6 years ago

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Can you please do Yandere Shuichi x Yandere Rantaro x Kaede? Shuichi loves Rantaro and he knows this, but he loves Kaede more. So Shuichi decides to bring the pianist as a present. The poor girl is now trapped in a terrifying situation with her life at the mercy of a deadly love triangle. With Shuichi telling she’s lucky he won’t kill her.

This is so long, but I hope you all enjoy!

Yandere!Saihara Shuichi x Yandere!Rantaro Amami x Kaede Akamatsu!

The Detective’s feelings weregradual, festering and becoming much more intense with time. Saihara was stuckin a rut, though, because the man he loved had his eyes set on another.

And he could sense something darker inside of Rantaro – that might be why hisfeelings were so strong. Rantaro was the only person who could truly understandhim.

He could tell that the other man was planning something evil involving Kaedeand did his best to talk him out of it – after all, he’d hate to see somethingbad happen to him.

Rantaro was hyper-aware of the Detective’s feelings for him, but he simply lovedKaede more. Her innocence and enthralling beauty could not be denied orovershadowed, even if Saihara understood him better.

Their situation was peculiar and lethal.

Saihara could simply kill Kaede and just get rid of his competition, but thenwould Rantaro ever love him back? Would Rantaro ultimately kill him in an act of vengeance? There was no doubt in his mind that thegreen-haired man would immediately know who was responsible should anythinghappen to the Pianist.

Should he simply let Rantaro give his heart to the girl? That would truly killhim inside and send him into a fit of rage.

And Rantaro had to carefully balance his options – he knew what Saihara wascapable of, and knew that he may strike at Kaede, but he also knew that hisheart was with her and he couldn’t control himself around her. Saihara’s feelings were one-sided, but so were Rantaro’s; there was no clear solution.

Poor Kaede had no idea what she was getting herself into, unknowingly becomingthe pawn in the two twisted men’s games.

Saihara spent hours pacing around his room whilst trying to figure out what thebest course of action was. He weighed his options while simultaneously admiringthe collection of photos he’d taken of Rantaro, gritting his teeth and cursingKaede for driving a wedge between them.

How could he win Rantaro’s love without harming her? He truly hated her gutsbut needed to restrain that side of himself should he ever get the man heloved.

That’s when a sick idea entered his mind.

Saihara could easily find out where the Pianist lived – he knew everythingabout Rantaro and knew that the green-haired man stalked Kaede’s locationregularly. It would be no issue to simply follow his beloved to uncover herwhereabouts.

If he brought Rantaro the girl as a gift… maybe, just maybe, he would open hiseyes to something greater and they could both get what they want.

That’s exactly what he did. The Detective had experience with breaking into someoneelse’s home through all of his practice with Rantaro and waited for Kaede tocome back home from her Piano lessons. Thankfully, she lived alone which made his job easier.

He watched her reenter her small bedroom and drop her belongings on the bed and thenslip into a more comfortable nightgown. In the midst of changing, he strikeswhen she is the most vulnerable.

Saihara slowly creeps out from his hiding spot and lunges at theunsuspecting blonde, who lets out a sudden yelp. Before she can call for help,he’s slipping the chloroform rag over her mouth and feels Kaede’s limp bodycollapse in his arms.

He dragged her sleeping body to Rantaro’s nearby home, making sure to cover his tracks as he did so. Saihara’s heart began to flutter as he inched closer to the front-door, hoping that his sudden arrival wasn’t too intense.

Rantaro’s eyes widen at the presence of the Detective at his doorstep. He isabout to turn cold and stern, his fingers clutching the small pocket knife healways kept on his person, wondering if he had to finally take out the pest before him. He wondered how Saihara uncovered his address but couldn’t deny that he was curious as to what he was doing here.

Before he finds an ample opportunity to slash at his throat, Saihara unveilshis gift – Kaede’s unconscious body curled up in the bushes beside Rantaro’sfront door. A blush forms on his face as he stares down at the woman heloved.

“What is the meaning of this…? Did you hurt her-?” His eyes narrow and turnharsh as Saihara defensively holds up his hands and drops his weapon and rag.

“N-no,” a sheepish grin forms on his lips as he stares down shyly, “she’s justunconscious. She’s my gift… to you~.”

Rantaro is silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. He knew his violent andjealous tendencies were strong but he never thought he’d actually kidnap Kaedeand hide her away in his home… and yet, Saihara already did all the dirty workand he knew he may never get another opportunity like this again.

His hands are trembling as he nods and lifts the girl over his shoulder, leading Saihara into his home.Rantaro fears that he may be getting the Detective’s hopes up by accepting his wicked offer.

He locks himself away in his room, shutting Saihara out. Rantaro is fawning over Kaede who looked so beautiful even while unconscious. Although Saihara wished he could join them, this gave him the perfect chance to linger around Rantaro’s home, picking up a few of his personal belongings to add to his collection along the way.

Rantaro finally called him in once the girl begins to awaken. She tosses and turns, her eyes adjusting to her surroundings. Once Kaede realizes that she isn’t in her own bedroom and notices the two men standing over her, she scoots away and tries to shield herself from their gaze.

A long, evil grin forms on Rantaro’s lips as he applauds Saihara for his hard work, thanking him for the gift.

Kaede is perplexed; it takes her a moment to realize that she’s the gift he’s talking about. Her heart speeds up as sweat droplets form along her forehead, becoming increasingly more terrified of her current situation.

A sense of pride fills Saihara and he is thankful that he could make his beloved happy, even if it meant bringing him the competition. He darkly stares at Kaede which sends chills down her spine.

“You’re lucky I won’t kill you…” he says slowly as Rantaro strokes her face wordlessly, causing Kaede to flinch away. “I did it all for him.”

The Pianist began to wonder how she found herself in this terrifying Love Triangle. The last thing she could remember was coming home from her lessons and then someone coming out of her closet, embracing her before she fell asleep. Putting the pieces together, she retraces her thoughts and puts a face to her captor - Saihara, the quiet boy in her class whom she’s only spoken to on a few rare occasions.

She felt trapped, fearing for her life as his words send her into a panic; that’s when Rantaro chimes in. “I’ve loved you for so long but I never thought I’d finally have you all to myself,” he inches towards her and places a kiss on her cheek, causing her to wince and shut her eyes tightly.

A growl escapes Saihara’s throat as he wished that it was him. He repeats his previous sentence, “I won’t kill you because I know that he loves you. Consider yourself lucky, because in any other situation I wouldn’t hesitate to end your life…” Her stomach sinks as she realizes that her life is in danger as long as these two are around.

Rantaro holds up his hand, silencing him. Then, he turns to the man and places a kiss on his forehead which causes Saihara to blush uncontrollably. “Thank you, Shuichi, but I need you to calm down.”

Kaede begins to tug on her restraints, causing the men to laugh. She demands that they let her go, insisting that she won’t tell anyone.

The green-haired man hunkers down beside her with a playful smile on his face. “Why would I let you go? I love you, Kaede, and I want you to stay here with me… with us, we’ll take care of you.”

Tears are streaming down her face and she wishes she was anywhere else but here. The two intimidating men begin to approach her as she realizes that she’s just a toy to them, a prize.

“Now, if you want to fight back I can make this experience very, very painful for you. Or… I can let Saihara have his way with you. You don’t want that, do you?”

That was the moment when Kaede noticed that Rantaro was clutching a small knife in his hands and the weight of the deadly Love Triangle finally hits her. She shakes her head, causing the two to smile maliciously. “Good,” Rantaro coos in her ear.

- Mod Rantaro

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #ndrv3 #ndrv3 imagines #danganronpa v3 #killing harmony #yandere #shuichi saihara #saihara shuichi #rantaro amami #amami rantarou #amamatsu #amasai

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renaroo · 8 years ago

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Day 20 Suit Up: It’s a Date

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Canon-typical Language Pairings: CarolinaxNiner Rating: T Synopsis: On a night when everyone else is taking it slow for their shore leaves, Carolina feels the call of the club. What she doesn’t expect is to find herself joined by the very pilot she asked to drop her off. CarolinaxNiner. Sapphic September: Suit Up.

A/N: My girls, my precious rarepair I love so dearly. I am happy to get to them finally in this challenge though I REALLY have a lot I need to catch up on, getting this one out seemed personally important :P

Carolina never seemed like the type who would club. Pulsing bass, strobing lights, thick musk in the air, makeup so thick that it would delay a frown even on the loneliest, worst night of them all. But then again, Carolina had prided herself over the years as never seeming like many things, by knowing how to adjust herself to be exactly the sort of person she was expected to be.

And in that way, she wasn’t really known by anybody who hadn’t seen the rare moments where nothing was expected of her at all.

The mandatory in mandatory shore leave was pretty much the only feasible reason most of her colleagues in Project Freelancer could give for why Carolina was taking off to fulfill it just a week after everyone else had used up their time.

There may or may not have been a betting pool among the agents on whether or not she was actually just hidden on a different part of the ship than normal or if she was ‘vacationing’ in some sort of martial arts dedicated monastery.

It was a toothless pool since one of the expectations of Carolina was that she would never really satisfy them with the real answer and thus never really settle their betting.

The question of her travel destination only became more shrouded in mystery as she wore a plain shirt and pants, threw a duffle bag over her shoulder, and requested a single pilot to take her to her destination, a destination only provided to high command of Project Freelancer and to the pilot herself. She almost smirked to herself at how mysterious and exciting her little trip was seen to the others.

As soon as her departing vessel was out of the sector that the Mother of Invention was traversing, Carolina went to the privacy of the tiny bathroom, her tote in tow, and began to get herself ready.

Her hair sizzled as she crimped its ends, her right foot balanced precariously on the lid of the toilet while she leaned in and applied eyelashes. Her right eyeliner had a perfect wing, then it was adjusted to a thicker one after the ship jarred the left. She blended her lipsticks until the right shade of turquoise was reached, then she unbuttoned her plain shirt with frightening efficiency to trade out her old, worn bra for the hot pink lace one she had packed away.

The sleeveless turtleneck was slick and formfitting, though the low back had to be pulled up slightly to cover the latch of her unmatched bra.

After that came the skirt and the open towed hills that bunched at her ankles with the same turquoise flare as her lipstick.

It all came together just moments before they went down for their landing and when Carolina looked into the mirror, she didn’t see the soldier or the warrior or the fighter anymore. But she recognized herself all the same. She was herself and she was excellent. And she was extremely ready to become completely undone after a few hours at the club.

Gathering her purse the moment her nails were dry just enough, Carolina strutted to the cockpit of the ship and stuck her head in to speak with her pilot.

“Almost docked,” Niner announced before turning just enough to catch a glimpse of Carolina. She then stopped and completely turned in her seat, eyebrows high as she looked over the Freelancer in disguise. “Damn. And here I thought I’d seen you cleaned up before!”

“Just think of it as an undercover disguise,” Carolina offered. “I’m just stepping up to let you know I’ll send you the address of my hotel tomorrow afternoon. I imagine that checkout will be around noon the next day, so I’ll meet you at the closest port then.”

“You could give me your hotel room now if you want,” Niner offered,

“I don’t know where I’m going to end up,” Carolina clarified before backing off and beginning to walk toward the exit door.

“Holy shit, it’s like I don’t even know you,” Niner laughed.

“That’s the idea of the next two nights,” Carolina agreed just before opening the door.

Carolina wasn’t too surprised that the first few hours clubbing weren’t filled with bombastic wildness, but the disappointment came all the same. There were few people she caught the eye of who could manage to be original in their introductions without being obnoxious, and at the same time she hadn’t seen anyone interesting enough to her own tastes that she was willing to take the first move herself.

It was looking like the night was going to necessitate being much longer than she had originally planned when Carolina felt a tap on her shoulder.

It took some restraint and a reminder that her eyeliner was thicker than originally planned to keep back the eye roll, but Carolina managed it. She took her shot glass in between her fingers and spun around to face who was giving it an honest try that time around.

Then, of course, she nearly dropped it.

It wasn’t that she recognized the dapper woman in a black tux immediately or that even the pimp cane and bow tie were even that initially shocking. It was just the absurdity of all of it combined together right there when she turned around got to Carolina far faster than she was prepared for.

Then her conscious brain caught up with her subconscious as she pulled her shot glass into a full grip and really assessed who she was facing.

“Niner?” she asked, voice cracking in shock as she looked her pilot up and down. “What are you… how did you…?”

“Sorry it took so long, but you wouldn’t believe how many nightclubs there are in this part of town,” Niner said jokingly with a twist of her wrist. “Of course I hate that I kept you waiting.”

“Waiting?” Carolina laughed. “Waiting for what?”

“Waiting to be swept off your feet by the right kind of gal,” Niner said back, her eyebrows waggling in a way that Carolina wasn’t sure she was talented enough to pull off on her own.

“Jesus,” Carolina laughed. She then quickly threw back her shot and turned it over on the bar before climbing down from her stool and properly greeting her pilot. “Don’t tell me you went and bought a whole suit just to be my wingman tonight,” she begged.

Smoothly, with far more charisma than any other potential dance partner had managed on Carolina that night, Niner worked her hands into Carolina’s and spun them both around. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I obviously bought this suit to sweep you off your feet. Unless you’re waiting for another partner to come back from the restroom.”

Carolina laughed and closed the distance between them, the lights and people around them all pulsing to the same deafening beat. “Even if I were, there wouldn’t be any competition for style alone tonight.”

Niner smirked and waggled her brows again. “That’s the sort of news I love to hear,” she said.

They leaned in together, meeting for a kiss just before the next song could start.

#SaphSep2017 #writing #rvb fic #Agent Carolina #479er #CarolinaxNiner

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rigelsprince · 8 years ago

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Character info pt. 2

[ part 1 ] [ template ]

Personality

Good personality traits:

Ambitious : he’s always working toward some lofty goal, some form of self-betterment, and could never settle on living a life without tangible success Tenacious : once he sets his sights on something, rarely does he give up, and he owes his success in life thus far primarily to this trait. Adversity and challenges don’t frighten him Hard-working : one might argue that a Rigelian is nothing if not hard-working, and Berkut wholly embodies this trait. While proud of his lineage, he refuses to have things handed to him simply for his relation to the Emperor, and does not count a victory he has not won by his own hand Perceptive : he’s always been sharp, and few things escape his keen eye, making him a fine strategist and general for one so young Organized : in line with the Rigelian emphasis on discipline, Berkut keeps everything he owns in proper order – from paperwork, to finances, to weaponry – and rarely loses things. Relatedly, he tends to keep to schedules, and has systematic ways of handling his affairs. On the battlefield, he always knows where his men are Confident : thanks to his parents’ constant praise, he developed a (overly) healthy level of self-confidence and knows precisely what he can and cannot do. This confidence is reflected in his body language, the way he speaks and carries himself, and inspires awe in everyone around him Natural leader : related to the above trait, people naturally feel comfortable following Berkut thanks to his self-assurance, and he has a talent for bringing people together to work as a cohesive whole Caring : he expresses this trait in two ways – in public with how proud he is of his country and how much he desires to see it flourish, and in private with Rinea. Otherwise, this is a trait few see, and he deliberately hides it Levelheaded : for the most part, he doesn’t let his emotions get in the way of his rationality, and thinks things through before acting; however, when his emotions DO get in the way, it can end disastrously since he’s never learned how to coexist with them

Bad personality traits:

Haughty : because he’s worked so hard for his successes, he becomes disdainful of anyone he feels hasn’t done the same. Which is nearly everyone. And commoners, by default, will never be as good as he is because it’s not their place to live at his level Proud : he’s the best at what he does and he knows it. And he makes sure everyone else knows it, too. He will, however, yield to mentor figures who have earned his respect Inconsiderate : empathy isn’t something that comes naturally to him, and he has the tendency to be so convinced that his beliefs/ideas are the Truth that he doesn’t listen to what anyone else has to say Paranoid : he was raised believing that everyone will backstab him if given the chance, and so he keeps everyone he meets at arm’s length, using strength as a facade. He can’t let anyone see his vulnerabilities and weaknesses Defensive : he doesn’t take well to criticism, since it interferes with his perfectionist tendencies, and interprets any criticism automatically as his own failure. And failing frustrates him Volatile : for all of his emotional restraint, he’s prone to outbursts – usually anger – when things become a bit too much for him to handle. There’s almost never any prior warning, since he keeps a lid on his emotions until the pressure blows the lid off completely. This is the result of growing up being taught to hide any unbecoming feelings rather than finding a healthy way to release them Overbearing : since he thinks he’s always right, he has the tendency to push people around without their input. This works to his benefit as a commander, but not so much in social situations

Mood character is most often in: If “ambitious” and “determined” were moods Sense of humor: Dry, teasing, potentially malicious Character’s greatest joy in life: Rinea’s smile. Prior to meeting her, he found his joy in competing (and winning), but Rinea taught him that happiness can be found in gentler things. Of course, it’s still among his favorite things to completely destroy an opponent, and he’ll make just about anything into a competition Character’s greatest fear: Failing to live up to his uncle’s reputation prior to the events of SoV; losing the throne during the events of SoV; never achieving the greatness he was raised to achieve/not finding a new goal to work toward post-SoV Why?:

Pre-SoV : Having been groomed since birth to become the next emperor of Rigel, and hearing his parents – and the rest of Rigel – praise Emperor Rudolf’s work, Berkut grew up idolizing Rudolf. He was everything a Rigelian – and an emperor – should be, and every step he took, he compared it to Rudolf’s. Was he succeeding at the same pace? Was he getting as strong? This was not a conscious fear so much as it was one that kept him constantly pushing himself, because failure wasn’t an option. During SoV : Alm entering the picture with a mark of prophecy on his hand brought a new fear, and that was losing favor with the Rigelian people, or no longer having a Rigelian throne to claim at all. Berkut built his entire identity around succeeding Rudolf, so as the reality of losing this dream grows more and more certain, he falters in his own decisions, rationality, etc. and grows ever more desperate to beat out his competition and rise to the top again. Post-SoV : As someone who has spent his entire life pursuing some sort of goal, Berkut finds himself disoriented and aimless without something to work toward. He’s always wanted some sort of fame and greatness, and living the rest of his life without ever achieving anything of worth absolutely terrifies him. He can’t simply be a nobody, or play a supporting role.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: Realizing that everything he’s worked toward in his life has been for nothing. We see this, and the resulting mental breakdown, happen in SoV. In a hypothetical post-game scenario, it would take Berkut a good deal of time to find stability in his life again Character is most at ease when: he is alone with Rinea. He trusts her entirely and feels that she is the only person in front of which he does not have to present some sort of image. He can just be himself, without judgment, and without worry that his reputation might be at stake. Unfortunately, this is when he tends to be the most emotional and angry, so Rinea also suffers the most abuse during these outbursts Most ill at ease when: around the Duma Faithful - because of their deviance, reliance on magic (which he doesn’t understand), and their abnormal manners - and around his uncle, because he fears making mistakes in front of him, or doing anything that might make Rudolf think him unfit to be his successor. Enraged when: he fails to live up to the expectations placed upon him or when Alm (or any commoner) threatens his position. Most of this is directed at himself for failing, but the outrage is expressed with outward violence and insults. The anger is a defense to protect his wounded pride Depressed or sad when: he is dismissed by his uncle. Since he tries so hard to impress him and live up to his reputation, being brushed off or called “weak,” especially by Rudolf, strikes him hard. Usually it strengthens his resolve to work harder, but he also gets increasingly frustrated with himself for not being able to achieve what everyone hopes he will. Berkut’s sadness manifests similarly to anger, with a good deal of yelling and breaking things. As opposed to being outwardly directed when he’s angry, however, he becomes more self-pitying and melodramatic when he’s upset.

#// I finally actually filled out a part 2 for one of my muses #// I usually only get as far as part 1 #out of character #headcanons #fe15 spoilers

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sneakyaliens · 8 years ago

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That which is given

Hi I wrote a thing about spies and love.

Prompt: rival spies are each given the mission to steal each other’s heart

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The woman who called herself Cassandra was experienced in hearts. Fickle, needy things, they warm to whomever feeds them. Even the most vicious, rabid dog can be tamed with a fistful of meat.

She watched her target. And her target – the woman who called herself Ramona – watched her.

They were all strangers, in this business. But even strangers have faces.

Cassandra smiled. When she stood, the hilt of her dagger dug cold steel into her thigh. She moved toward Ramona. Ramona moved toward her. Dark curls fell softly against her round cheeks. Dark eyes absorbed the light in the room. It thrilled Cassandra, to see her this way.

“Cassandra.”

As they met, Ramona reached to clasp her hands between her own. Cassandra played her part, letting her shoulders melt, her cheeks dust rose.

“Ramona.”

Where had they been? The Russian winter, engaged in a tug-of-war over valuable military intelligence. Tracking disillusioned members of terrorist groups in the Middle East, offering honey-dipped promises in clandestine bidding wars over covert sources. Crossing wires during months-long surveillance efforts. And now, here.

“Steal her heart,” the man who called himself Jericho had told Cassandra, wearing a wry grin above his grey-striped tie. In his spare time, Cassandra asked, did he write romance novels? Jericho laughed. The laugh, like the grin, refused to reach his eyes.

“It’s been so long.”

Ramona spoke twelve languages, ten fluently, and had perfected seven vernaculars in English alone. In all speech, her voice was low and melodious, never rushed, never uncertain.

“Too long,” Cassandra replied and then, foregoing any pretense, “Let’s find some fresh air?”

“Of course.”

Where else? Versailles, and Bruges. Back when missions weighed less heavily on the conscience and trust existed between nations. A life like those Cassandra read about in spy novels, though novels always offered such a fantastic perspective, conveniently forgetting the rest: long hours of grueling paperwork, the thrum of terror in the chest while waiting for a source to show. The amount of time spent watching one’s humanity disappear, being forced to suspend morality in the interest of what you must believe is the greater good.

Ramona’s dark eyes were prevalent in those days. As was her skin, ivory against Cassandra’s ebony in every fleeting moment they shared. There was nothing to be stolen, then, only given – but there are certain things a spy must never give, and Cassandra’s passion for her craft outweighed any desire for comfort, familiarity, or love.

They walked side by side down the marble hallway. Discreetly, Cassandra studied Ramona. The years had hardened the corners of her lips, and left a scar across the edge of her jaw. Despite her plain features, Cassandra saw only beauty in the woman. She was intelligent and lively and brave, as humble as she was cunning. As captivating as she was on the day Cassandra left her.

Pride turned them against each other, first. And then time, and then the job. Ramona stole the military intel out from under Cassandra’s nose as they shivered in Russia; Cassandra claimed a key source they’d both been courting in the Middle East. Each of them longed to forget the surveillance fiasco in the Ukraine.

The staircase was located at the end of the hall, behind a door labelled ‘EMERGENCY ONLY – ALARM WILL SOUND’.

“I’ve already disabled the alarm mechanism,” Ramona said, pushing it open. The stairs, lit by fluorescents, were a stark contrast to the marble behind them. Ramona led the way to the roof, three stories above.

“I took care of the cameras,” Cassandra murmured as she followed, unable to help her competitive nature.

The door at the top of the stairs opened into an inky sea of buildings. Darkened office windows stared emptily outward. Above, only a sliver of the moon was visible.

“I suppose,” Ramona said, leaning against the railing, “we’re here for the same reason.”

Cassandra moved closer. Her fingers itched to tuck back the lock of hair which had flung itself across Ramona’s brow, but she resisted this temptation.

“You’re to steal my heart? Imagine what this would have meant, fifteen years ago.”

Ramona raised an eyebrow.

“Is it any different now?”

The night was sticky and warm. Below, a siren rang out. A car honked. A young woman in heels called for a taxi. Cassandra wondered how it felt to love without restraint.

“I suppose that’s up to us.”

Ramona reached for her, then. Pulled her in by the folds of her gown, fingers finding her hips beneath the fabric. Cassandra closed her eyes and let Ramona kiss her. She tasted of peppermint and lipstick and everything Cassandra had sacrificed to be here. How many other lives could she have led? How many things could she have done differently? Where would she have ended up if she’d chosen love, instead?

She wanted to tell Ramona that her mission had ended long ago. That there was no heart left to steal, for Ramona already held the last of it. But she could feel Ramona’s fingers slipping lower, unknowingly toward the dagger on her thigh, and she remembered who she was. The choices she’d made. The life she had.

There was a pocket in the gown, one without a bottom. Reaching into it, Cassandra curled her fingers around the dagger. Her other hand tangled through Ramona’s thick, soft hair. She kissed her deeply.

When she pulled back, she smiled sadly.

“I know you think there must be some mistake,” she said, “but what they’ve told you is true.”

Ramona’s gaze hardened. She moved to grab the gun in her waistband, but Cassandra grasped her wrist, stopping her. She held tight, using her weight to pin Ramona against the railing. As Ramona struggled to free herself, Cassandra continued.

“I didn’t turn that source in that desert. Jericho… he never stopped believing in the things he was fighting for. He made me believe, too. Your people don’t want peace – these wars will not bring peace. I’ve lain with the enemy. I’ve seen the horrors you do and the horrors they do. From this, I’ve made my choice.”

Ramona stared wildly at her, her lipstick smudged, dark hair amess.

“And what is your choice?”

Cassandra could feel the weight of the dagger in her hand as she lifted it from its sheath.

“You are my choice.”

Before Ramona’s eyes could widen, Cassandra raised the dagger and plunged it deep into her chest. It was far more difficult than she’d anticipated. It took all she had left.

As she removed Ramona’s heart, she wished it was still beating.

#short story #spies #fiction #originals

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evodex · 7 years ago

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Corporate Styling Tips For Working Women By Style Coach : Divya Vishwanath

Corporate Styling Tips For Working Women

You can have anything you want if you dress for it.

-Edith Head.

Women of today- they rule almost every sphere of the corporate world.

Despite all the added challenges they had to face, they achieved success and power and what arose from this was a new age woman, the Working Women. Aware of her powers, her brilliance, and her abilities. As they moved forward into the corporate world, so did their wardrobe. The wardrobe of working women was a combination of success, restraint, rebellion, strength, fun and of course a little bit of drama. Women started to dress in clothes which made them feel powerful and invincible.

The question then arises, “Why so much stress on work wardrobe”? Well, why not! Here are some reasons I can think of:

If we dress well, we feel more confident and our body language portrays that. People we work with perceive us as more authoritative, competent and reliable. Nothing can match up to the feeling one gets when they know they are looking good. If you look good, you feel good and you work well. This automatically makes you feel powerful. Over time, you realize that you can control how you feel about yourself and this again is a great feeling to have. First impressions matter. We always associate a person with the first impression we have of them, the image that was stored in our minds within 5 seconds of meeting them, and that image lasts a lifetime. As someone truly said, “ There are no second chances to a first impression.” so make it a good one.

Without a doubt, the way we dress plays an important role in our work life. So make a little effort to learn about it, spend a little time to work on it and use this subconscious visual association to your advantage.

“Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than to merely keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world’s view of us.”

– Virginia Woolf.

Now let’s talk about some do’s and don’ts for the wardrobe of a Working Women:

Always dress according to what’s appropriate for your workplace. If there is a dress code, FOLLOW it. Read a little about the dress code and apply it to your everyday dressing. It creates a positive impression of you. Clothes must always fit well. Too tight or too loose is distracting. Inappropriate clothes can give a wrong impression too. After all, you want to be remembered for what value you bring in and not what you wore. Right!

The perfume you wear has to be subtle and not strong. If you cannot figure out on your own which perfume to buy for work, ask the store lady for a mild one. She’ll guide you.

You need to wear appropriate shoes and they must be clean and in good condition. Heels look good, but it’s a personal choice. Go for wedge heels, kitten heels or even flats, as long as you are comfortable. But they need to go with what you are wearing and they need to be appropriate. You cannot wear bathroom slippers or open sandals to work, just because you find them comfortable. Nor can you wear the shoes you will wear while you go out partying. Follow the dress code. But still get a little adventurous.

Personal hygiene is precious. Bad body odour, dirty hair, unkempt hands, and feet will not take you too far. Be well groomed.

Get regular manicures and pedicure, especially if you want to wear open shoes. The sight of chipped nail paint is not professional at all.

Keep your hair clean and neat. If you can’t manage the hairstyle you have without elaborate parlour work, you definitely need a change. Visit your hairstylist and tell her what your requirements are. Take tips from her on how to manage your hair easily. Never reach work with wet hair. It shows that you are not organized and lack time management.

Simple Tips To Keep You And Your Jewellery Glowing This Wedding Season

Pay attention to colour choices. Darker colours always give a stronger impression. Never wear colours that will blend in with the background. You want to stand out, not fade out.

Don’t get carried away with accessories. You cannot wear the same kind of jewellery to work, what you would wear to a pub or discotheque. And your jewellery definitely cannot make noise. Keep it striking, yet subtle.

Carry a bag that is neat and stylish and not something that has your stuff pouring out of it. You cannot carry a suitcase either while at work. If there is a lot of things you need with you, make a little storage space where you work. A bag has to look like the stylish accessory its meant to be, yet it should blend in with the professional image you want to project. So, no gym bags, plastic bags or shiny or embellished clutch to work.

Don’t overdo makeup. Smokey eyes are for parties. Wear the amount that would make your complexion look flawless and yet natural. Also use moisturizer always, for face, hands, feet, legs… It makes you look fresh and awake.As far as work makeup is concerned, LESS IS ALWAYS MORE.

Leggings/tights are not trousers. You cannot wear them to work !!

Come up with your own style, which works well for you. Nothing will ever compete with your own signature style. This might take a little bit of effort, but its worth it. Once you know your style, be consistent with it.

While dressing, don’t forget that you are a woman. Take pride in who you are.

You are strong, powerful, magnificent, smart, intelligent, efficient and beautiful. Believe in this. And the word will believe this too. Wear the right attitude.

Dressing right for work, once mastered, is an empowering and liberating experience. It’s an armor you wear to work every day and definitely spend two-thirds of the day in it. So, why not make your Working Women look stunning one!

“Fashion is what you’re offered four times a year by designers. And style is what you choose.”

– Lauren Hutton

Here are some looks I have created for you to help you with your work wardrobe.

We all have bad days when we are not feeling too good. It’s normal. For days like that, Wear something loose comfortable and hassle-free. This long flowing dress is perfect for such days. Worn with comfortable shoes and a little makeup, you are good to get through the day.

This slim fit dress is a staple, yet stands out of the cause of the color. The flower adds a bit of fun element

Bright pink linen top is paired with grey trousers and grey beads. The whole outfit looks bright and elegant. The fun element gets added with the matching pink peep toe heels and pink bag.

This white A-line skirt is worn with a knitted top and printed scarf. It will work for a formal Friday casual dressing too. For an extra formal look, add a jacket.

This bright yellow chiffon top is paired with white cotton trousers. The accessories are minimal as yellow is really striking on its own. Never contrast yellow with any other strong color, it can become too overpowering. In this case, since the top has small blue dots, it can be worn with blue trousers too.. Beige goes well with all colors.

Black is a staple in all our wardrobes but a bit of color adds more dimension and interest. Here the black dress is paired with an orange jacket and orange bag. I have worn black stilettos, but feel free to wear wedge heels, kitten heels, peep toes or flats in matching the colour. A bright color jacket works really well when paired with solid color dresses.

This warp dress will never let you down. It suits almost any body type. What makes it more interesting is the patterns on it. Here they are worn with red jewelry, red heels and paired with a red bag. Try any other combination and it will look good.

This round neck, frilled top in flowing material doesn’t bulk up and can be paired beautifully with almost anything. Here this top is worn with a black straight skirt and a green bag adds a pop of colour. Wear it with pants or flared skirts or with jeans on a casual Friday, and it looks stunning.

Why not make a casual Friday fun. Printed brown dress, paired with a light green woven silk scarf and brown bag.

Nothing screams out power and success more than this outfit. Black embroidered silk skirt is worn with black top and suede jacket and printed scarf. This is paired with high heels.

Sarees look really elegant, as long as you can manage to drape it well and keep it well draped throughout the day. Wear saree with a little heel (adds grace) and no hanging and chunky jewellery with it. Keep it all minimal and noise free. In a saree, you would definitely leave an impact on anyone. Its probably the most powerful attire I have seen. Salwaar- kameez is very comfortable too. Wear well-fitted ones.

Any of these outfits can be altered according to the weather. Use a colourful knitted scarf or warm well-fitted jacket or both. Just don’t add too many colours, we don’t want you looking like a fruit basket. For a professional woman, style is her expression of confidence, power, and success. Finding your style and following it will give you a definite winning edge in this ever so competitive world. With our world getting so visual, with technology developing almost every hour, the visual impact has gained immense importance.

So all you gorgeous ladies, its time to let your visual voice speak and make sure it gets heard loud and clear. Get out of your comfort zone where work dressing is concerned; don’t clone but find your true style and you will shine even more.

This post was contributed by, Divya Singh Vishwanath. She is a style coach from Mumbai, India. She has done her designing course from NIFT, New Delhi and has worked with a few designers and fashion houses. She took a break for a few years to raise her family and for the last three years, she has been working as a stylist and a personal shopper. She started her blog stylefashionshimmer in September 2017 and have been working as a style coach ever since.

If you have any questions, she is there to help.

[email protected]

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thewritingviolin-blog · 8 years ago

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A Modern Modest Proposal

Please note the heavy verbal irony and satire. Modeled after Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal”. Intended to provoke change in America’s society.

A Modern Modest Proposal

A Humble Proposal to Make America Great Again

It is a sorrowful idea to consider that the United States of America, home of the free and the brave, has fallen so far from grace that our founders, the men who created our patriotism and pride, would not and could not be able to identify a scrap of the true American spirit. Perhaps, they would be appalled of the fact that America has been overrun by immigrants, who steal our jobs, women, who believe that their bodies are their own, and civil liberties, which should only apply to those who are rich and of European descent. Therefore, it is in my interest to humbly propose the most logical and effective solutions to restore the United States of America back to its former glory.

The first topic to address is the infestation of breeders in our country. Though society has shifted to include women in the midst of men, make no mistake. The fairer sex is in no way capable of achieving anything that a man can easily reach. Their minds are dulled from the number of hours they spend in front of a mirror every day, dusting powder on their faces and doing their hair, all for the pleasure of attracting a strong man to defend her. Thus, a woman’s life, happiness, and dignity is not equal to a man’s. I believe that women have overstepped their boundaries and must be put back into place: behind a man, where they belong.

The first order of business regarding the overwhelming number of women who believe their opinions are worth the same as a man’s is the removal of the nineteenth amendment. A woman’s vote should clearly be discarded due to their partiality to a politician based on their public image. The power of the government cannot be entrusted in a female’s hands.

The second is to remove women from any form of citizenship. Women shall be considered property as women only exist for a man’s pleasure, and the sale and distribution of women will be legalized. This, however, creates a problem with the population of each state and the votes each state may have. This can be easily solved by considering a woman worth two-thirds of what a man with European descent is.

Because women will now be considered property, men may do whatever they please, but all women must be branded each time they are sold to a new owner. This will aid in identifying women who will inevitably attempt to escape from their rightful places as a means for pleasuring an arrogant man, working in the kitchen, birthing new organisms of little worth, and whatever else a man with limited views may wish to do with them.

It is foolish to believe that only women are below the worth of a man. Rather, there is a long list of minorities in our country (that certainly cannot be exhausted) who have varying degrees of worth. It is prudent to again state that these minorities will always be worth less than men with European descent. African Americans, in particular, will be reinstated to their former positions as slaves. Due to their extra pigmentation, which gives them an evolutionary advantage, African Americans will labor in areas where the sun would burn the skin of paler minorities. Hispanics will work in labor camps, similar to the ones that Nazi Germany established during World War Two. Any laborer refusing to work will be gassed. Asians will live in smaller labor camps, but will not participate in physical labor. Instead, they will employ their inherited mathematical skills in order to further the country’s knowledge. Any other minority who traces their descent from the Middle East will be tortured for sport. This is our revenge against the few radicals who decided to attack us, the champions of the globe.

Similarly, any person who is illegally smuggled into the country will be caught. Men will be put to labor while the females, along with all the other females of European descent and of minority groups, will be put into the women-trade-economy. Children will be separated based on gender, as I will most certainly address in my proposal.

Poverty has plagued the streets of America too long. I propose a way to eliminate lower and middle class altogether while providing the finest meals for the rich. It has come to my attention that male babies, once fed and plump with a year of nursing, are delicious, nutritious meals and may be prepared in many ways. Not only will the rich enjoy a delectable meal (as one baby, if eaten without restraint, will last at the least one day), but the poor may receive a large sum for their troubles of raising a male child for slaughter. The breeders are also saved the trouble of wasting money on a male child who will neither bring home wages nor contribute to the economy as a whole. Thus, the elimination of more than half of our great nation’s young males will eliminate the competition for females. While the male population must be limited in order to prevent competition, the female population must be coaxed to grow exponentially. The female children may be sold to provide revenue for their poverty-stricken parents and to pleasure males who have no concept of consent.

To ensure that all Americans will follow this modest proposal, the Bill of Rights, as well as all other constitutional amendments, will only apply to white men with European descent. The death penalty can be given out to all protestors against the system, including white males with European descent, and those who violate the law, whether it be a misdemeanor or a felony. Any country that stands in opposition of our way of life will be utterly destroyed by our superior military and missile system.

I have devoted countless hours to devising this plan so that it may better the true citizens of America. I find no flaws in this system. Therefore, let us not ponder on the idea that women can achieve great things, equivalent or beyond those of a man’s. Of the idea that women own their own bodies. Of the idea that men and woman, regardless of race, are worth the same. Of the idea that America was founded on those fleeing religious prosecution. Of the idea that our Constitution and the Amendments protect the basic rights of everyone. Of the idea that every voice should be heard. Of the idea that every right should be honored. Of the idea that despite conflicting political views, we can compromise. Of the idea that we are the people, and the people cannot be ignored, oppressed, and scorned. Let us not think of these luxuries.

The great nation of the United States of America will be no longer divided. In following these steps I have laid out in this humble proposal, our nation will be restored to its full glory in the eyes of the Lord and the founders. We will make America great again.

#satire #irony #society #feminism #equality #civil liberties #make America great again?#peace