#im not tagging all the characters but they sure are there

[quitesins]

Deku’s Type!

Masterlist

Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is implied to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!

The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…

“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.

Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”

Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.

Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s cackle the loudest of them all.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”

“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs, “you have such a type!”

Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.

“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.

Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”

Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but a twinkle of unfamiliar mirth evident within them.

“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.

“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”

Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.

“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”

“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts, “they’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”

“Yeah so he can fucking fix them,” Katsuki snorts.

“It’s your saviour complex,” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.

Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”

“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”

“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”

Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.

“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”

Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.

It feels wrong to view you that way. To view the women he’s loved that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—

“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.

“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to want to care for others.”

“Think he more than cares for ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more that familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”

This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.

Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.

Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.

Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.

My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…

Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…

[midnightwriter21]

aot hcs: them as boyfriends

characters: levi, eren, connie

warnings: i have the mouth of a sailor im srry

an: first aot fic lesss gooooooo!!! lmk if y’all want another part with diff characters!!

LEVI ACKERMAN

*sigh* he's so girlfriend

starting off strong...

this man is NAWT kissing you in public lololol

he's got a reputation to uphold

however!!

he will show pda in much smaller, more subtle ways

walking down the street, he's offering his arm for you to loop yours through

or guiding you with a hand on your lower back

if y'all are walking through a crowd he is CRUSHING your hand with his grip

he's not trying to hurt your hand haha

he's just strong, can't see over peoples heads, and doesn't wanna lose you in the sea of people

he'll keep that unbothered bored look on his face but just know that on the inside that this man is stressed lmfao

alsoooo

service bf to the maxxxxx

dude is not good with expressing his feelings

especially romantic ones lol

so he expresses his love by doing little tasks for you

oh you forgot to get food for your cat?

levi already has it

can't get that jar of pickles open?

he's snatching it out your hands and popping it open

and you already know your house is about to be the CLEANEST its ever been on god

next

i feel so bad

for the person to shit talk you in front of levi

on my mama let somebody say something slick lmfaooo

he is not gonna let it slide

forget getting physically violent

this mans mouth is absolutely DIABOLICAL

in more ways than one if ur picking up what im putting down

*ahem* will make said person cry with his words alone

period.

EREN YEAGER

meowwwwwwwww

bark bark bark

*insert other animal noise here*

huh? somebody say something?

no? okay

AHEM

this man right here? cocky asf

dude is fine

and knows it too

and he knows y’all make a FINEEEE ASS COUPLE

shows you and your relationship off all the time

not a day goes by where he’s not posting you on social media

and he coordinates yalls outfits too omg

he makes sure his clothes match yours

not exactly matching ofc but the colors

if ur wearing a red dress to an event

he’s wearing a red tie

it’s a casual day and you’re wearing a blue shirt or dress?

his shoes/accessories/etc. are gonna be the same color

it’s an aesthetic that he keeps up with. period.

also he CANNOT keep ur name out his mouth

brings you up in every conversation possible

“i think y/n mentioned wanting to go see that movie too. was it good?”

“nah sorry, my girl said she wants to have a date night soon so i’ll have to pass. we can make plans another day though.”

“i gotta go to the store when i leave here. i wanna get some stuff to surprise my girlfriend, y/n, when i get home.”

and he is handsy asf

bro is touching you at all times swear

it’s impossible to walk past this man without him latching onto you and lathering you in kisses and feeling you up

in public he’s gonna keep it respectful tho

unless he knows he won’t get caught lmfao

introduces you to mikasa and armin

wants all of the important people in his life to get along ofc

i love him sm

CONNIE SPRINGER

let’s get right into it shall we?

as soon as y’all make it official

i mean the MINUTE y’all are boyfriend girlfriend

he’s calling up all his friends to tell them the news

and then he’s making plans for them to meet up so he can introduce you

i feel like he takes you on a lot of fun dates

y’all don’t jus go get dinner and then go home

that’s too lame for connie

he’s taking you to laser tag, haunted houses, trampoline parks, etc.

and let me tell you this rn

come close

connie is NOT teaming up with you for laser tag

he’s making sure he’s on the opposite team so he can’t hunt you down over and over

will not take it easy on you idc

anyways… when y’all do go to dinner

7/10 times sasha is third wheeling yall

maybe jean too lol

idk i jus think that for connie it’s “the more the merrier”

especially since dinner isn’t something that’s gonna get his blood pumping yk?

but at least y’all can all get drunk and be funny together as a group right?

connie is so incredibly dedicated to being a dumbass around you

like as long as it makes you laugh, nothing is off limits

bro is constantly cracking jokes, telling embarrassing stories, doing stupid shit in public

he wants you happy. at. all. times.

this being said

if ur sad connie is doing anything and everything to cheer you up

i’m talking getting you ur fav snacks, renting that movie you always talk about, and pulling you close for a snuggle

yeah so i want to eat him basically

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Losing My Religion

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna has to make a stand.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Pretty standard tbh

3.6k words

A/N Please know tags have been spotty so check and make sure you're caught up!

"That's me in the corner That's me in the spot-light Losing my religion Trying to keep up with you And I don't know if I can do it Oh no I've said too much I haven't said enough I thought that I heard you laughing I thought that I heard you sing I think I thought I saw you try." ~Losing my Religion, R.E.M

“Will, take her.” Santiago orders Will, and the stronger man tries to take you away from where you cling to Frankie.

Frankie, however, steps away. “No! You aren’t taking her from me!” He looks back and forth between Will, Ben, and Santi. Through the silence, they can all here Iris wailing over Rey’s body in the kitchen. “You’re all fucking insane! None of you get her!”

Ben scoffs. “She doesn’t belong to you, Frank.”

“YES SHE DOES! She’s my WIFE!”

Will steps forward, taking a hand on your leg assertively, looking Frankie in the eyes. His dominance quells the room. “She’s my wife too, Frankie. Let me take her.” In a lower voice, he adds just to Frankie. “It’s gonna be easier if you just go, you know that. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

Frankie glances at Santi, rage bubbling in him. Will was right. “Sent someone to get Rey’s body, help Iris move him. She’s… she’s not gonna wanna leave his body. We are not making her clean up his blood the way she did Jonah’s, got it?” Francisco rarely spoke this firmly… but he cared about Iris and he wanted Rey’s body respected.

“I will, I promise.” Frankie watched as you left the room in Will’s arms, crying into his chest.

*

Francisco was dragged down the halls, Ben trailing after then after being told to follow, Santi yanking along Frankie’s still-soar arm.

“Slow down! Ow!”

“Shut the fuck up!” When they got to Frankie’s bedroom, Santi told Ben to stay outside until he was called. When the door closed, he delivered a crisp slap across Frankie’s face.

“Shit!” Frankie cried, holding his face and tasting blood.

Grabbing his shirt, Santi shoves Frankie against the door, making sure Ben hears every Santi is doing to Frankie that he can’t stop. 

“Don’t you EVER disrespect me like that again!” He screams, slapping Frankie again and making his head lul to the side. “I AM YOUR GOD!”

Frankie shoves him back. “YOU’RE MY BROTHER! This whole thing is FUCKED Santi!”

Santi went for Frankie’s shirt, tearing at the fabric and buttons as Frankie tried to fight him off. There was a scuffle, slaps to faces and arms and chest before his shirt was pulled off him, showing the scars on Frankie’s arms. Scars that matched Santi’s. Neatly in a line, they were scabbed and new, bruising still around the wounds, each an inch or two long. Santiago pressed their arms together. 

“Blood brothers, Frank. Blood brothers. You were made for me, I was made for you, you know that, don’t you?”

Frankie winces at the memory, how Santiago laid him down with a knife, cut into their skin together until they bled. On a bed of blood they fucked, sealing their commitment to each other, or that’s what Santi thought the ritual meant. The whole time, Frankie tried to imagine it was Ben.

Santi didn’t let go of his arm, fingers tracing up and down the scarred skin, picking at a scab until it bled. “You’re mine, Frank. Certainly not Madonna’s. She’s here to have our child. And you’re not Ben’s either.”

His eyes went wide at that, going into defense. Deny, deny, deny, or Ben would be dead.

“Santi, no, we’re not- AH!” Santiago ripped the scab, causing blood to spill out.

“Don’t lie to me! I know you fuck him behind my back. Is that why you care so much about Saha? You fucking him too, just like Madonna?”

Bent over in pain holding his arms, Frankie looks up at Santi in anguish, tears in his eyes as he screams. “HE WAS MY FRIEND! HE WAS HERS! FOR FUCK SAKE SANTIAGO NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT SEX!” He stood up straight, speaking strong even as he cried. “He loved Iris! He loved Iris only and Ben killed him! That girl lost her father and now is sobbing because of her lover's dead body!”

Santiago scoffs. “That’s your fucking boy toy, not mine. I don’t control Ben.”

“That’s the problem! You and Beatriz indulged his every whim, Will protected him from any consequence and now he’s a spoiled slut!”

“And what do you think you are? You live in comfort, in excess even, you get fucked by me, Ben, Will, even sliding your cock into Madonna’s little cunt for hours in those meadows because I allow it! You’re just a cockdumb, petulant child who's mad because the world isn’t perfect! You’re no better.”

Frankie locked his jaw, staring hard. “Yes, I am.”

When Santi closed in on him, Frankie braced for impact. Instead, when their bodies were crowded together, Santi simply opened the door. Ben sat there ont he floor, legs pulled up to his chest like a child whose parents were fighting, looking up at the door with wide blue eyes.

“You hear all that, Benny?”

Ben blinked, “Yeah.” He stands up, his long legs wobbly.

“Ben…” Frankie wanted to say he didn’t mean it, they were all fucked… but Rey’s blood still covered him. It was an odd sight on a boy who looked so young and innocent when he really wanted too. Or needed to.

Terror filled him, afraid Santi was going to hurt Benny, and despite just watching him kill a man in cold blood Frankie felt the need to protect him. He looked so much like that young underweight half-frozen boy in Will’s arms so many years ago. What happened to them all?

Instead of harming him, Santi beconned him in the room and kissed him so tenderly, softness Frankie hasn’t seen it since they were teens promising to be different from Beatriz. 

Ben made no effort to rebuff. He was taken aback at first of course, this was not the response they were expecting from him. He locked eyes with Frankie as Santi deepened the kiss, and narrows his eyes at his lover. Ben does not take kindly to being insulted. Arms snake around Santi’s middle, Ben grinding his cock against Santi’s stomach, moaning into his mouth. Frankie heard drops of blood drip from his arm into the wood floor. He needed to wrap it up. Instead, Santi told Frankie to get in the chair. 

*

It took everything in Santi to not watch Frankie watching them. To not see his face as he slid inside Ben’s asshole, to not see how much it pissed him off when he made the younger man moan as he sucked on a nipple. He didn’t need to look, however, because he knew, he knew just how badly it was angering Frankie, how it hurt him. Santi fucked Ben the way he knew Frankie liked, slow and tender, lots of kisses. He knew Frankie longed for those soft days so long ago, teenagers sneaking around, falling in love in closets and up in trees. Before Madonna came and fucked everything up.

That’s why they were made for each other. Raised together, brothers, as close and two people could get. From the craddle to the grave, Francisco Morales belonged to him. They were meant to be, their bodies were created by Beatriz to fit together, to bring each other pleasure. Frankie was his eve, the mother, the god of nature and fertility and-WHY COULDNT HE GET PREGNANT?!??!? None of this would have happened if Mother God had allowed them this, if he could fill his lover with his hot seed and create the savior Santiago couldn’t be. They could birth the savior together, Mary and Joseph, Frankie as the Madonna instead of that cunt causing all the problems. 

Santi was sure not to harm Ben, opening him up slowly as the boy moaned like a slut with his asshole clenching on Santi’s tongue, fingers poking their way inside in contrast to the way he liked to ram into Frankies cunt. 

Ben was so tender, so sensitive, his cockhead beat red and slick with precum as Santi slid his thumb around it. He repeatedly pulled back the skin, making Ben moan in wonton madness. He gave Ben the gentle love making he knew his Frank desired, the kind of soft touches Santi hadn’t been giving lately. No, ever since Madonna came he was ravenous. He didn’t like watching anyone inside Frankie, making exceptions on occasion for Will and Ben because he thought he could trust them.

Despite not being threatened or even ordered to watch, when Santiago turned to the chair he saw Frankie watching. santi knew Frankie liked to be watched, liked to be heard, so he wondered how being put as the watcher affected him. Frankie’s face was set into a hard glare, eyes red and burning with tears and his knuckles going white with clenched fists.

Still, his cock was hard in his pants.

*

You cried. And cried. And cried. 

Hysterics paused only long enough for Will to occasionally get some water in you as he held you close. It had been hours at this point, unsure what is happening to Francisco, what was happening to Iris, what would happen to Rey’s body.

Dead. He was dead. Your best friend was dead, Jonah was dead and Iris hated you. Everything was over now. You hold your stomach, realizing how disconnected you were from this baby in you. At month 7, there was a whole child and yet you felt like… like it was in you, not a part of you. There, not connected. You loved the baby, of course you did, you were its mom but… why didn’t you feel like it? Lately, you’d felt like you were just… here to do a job.

Eventually you calmed down, exhausted from the hysterics, and Will held you close to his chest. He calmed you down slowly, gentle hands brushing over your body. You could not fathom how the hands you’ve felt healing your body were the same as the fist that beat Jonah to death.

“Will?” You ask, listening to the beat of his heart. It was strong.

“Yes, my Madonna?”

“What happens now?” You couldn’t tell if he was pausing to think or in confusion, so you elaborate. “Jonah is dead. Rey is dead. I can never see Santi and Ben the same again-”

He sat up a bit to look at you. “You forgave Santi?”

Was Will really this naive? Really? Santiago had violently raped you, allowed your pregnant body to be burned and Will thought you forgave him? You and your baby could have died, and he thought you forgave him? Will was who you trusted. No matter what happened, you’d always trusted your Will, your smart handsome brave husband, your God of War and Medicine, your protection and your healing. 

You can hear Jonah’s voice in your head, begging you to have a shred of survival instinct, to trust your gut.

For the first time, you lie to him.

“I did…” You fib, just a little. “It’s just been a lot lately and… he did something bad. I just can’t forget all of that.”

He nods in understanding. “I get it…  I do.” His fingertips trail over your scarred skin. “To answer your question… I don’t know. I really don’t but… we’re married, we all love you and I know, I know Ben messed up today…”

Messed up? Ben killed your Rey, an innocent man. Your friend. Frankie’s friend. Dead and cut up on the kitchen floor where Iris, for all you know, is still sobbing.

You feel the walls coming up around Will. 

He continues. “But we’ll find a way to move on as a family.”

You were not a family with these people.

“Yeah, yeah okay.” 

*

Iris fell asleep on the floor, durk curls caking in blood as she rested on her lover's stabbed-open chest. It didn't matter. She wasn’t going to get up.

They won. Those fuckers won.

Santiago had beaten her into submission, cutting up parts of her she’d never had the chance to show Reyansh.

Ben raped her for years and years and year and Iris managed to hold on because she had Reyansh and to a certain extent Jonah. Jonah was disappointing, Jonah’s shortcomings were clear and she would never forgive what he tried to do to that poor girl, whatever it was, but the day he died she lost one more person.

But Iris wouldn’t clean up Reyansh’s blood the way she had to Jonah’s. She’d die here in his arms. If Ben wanted to touch her again, he could fuck her dead, rotting corpse. Iris doubted Ben would let anything as simple as death set her free.

*

When she woke up, she was being pulled away from Rey’s dead body. Iris screamed, but that didn’t matter to anyone anymore. Another few guards start pulling Rey’s body away, congealed blood dragging out from under him, and that’s when Iris started fighting. They couldn’t take him. They couldn’t have him. He was hers.

“I’m sorry.” The guard behind her said. Scott, a nice, naive young man. Many guards were loyal to Santi above all else, but Will held the most control. Still, Rey was well liked. With the exception of those who were hardcore true believers amongst the guard who knew Santi’s recent turn on Reyansh, Iris had no doubt they were, actually sorry. It didn’t change the fact she was being separated from her lover even in death.

*

“Just do what he says” Frankie tells Iris, hands planted firmly on her shoulders, eyes intently boring into hers. “He’s gonna fucking kill me for coming down here but Iris, you have to just do it.”

Her eyes burned with tears of anger as she stood near the door to the backyard, underneath the balcony. “What’s happening, Frankie.”

He closed his eyes a moment as he heard the door unlocking. “I can’t lose you too, Iris. Please. I need you with me. I don’t have Jonah, I don’t have Rey-”

“I don’t either!” Iris spat. “What makes you think I want to live after watching that?” It had been hours since she watched her rapist stab her Rey to death, powerless as Frankie held her back. Ben would have killed her too. Should have. 

“I need help! I can’t keep her alive alone, Iris! We have to be a team, for each other, for Madonna, for our ch-”

The door opened, Will bringing Madonna down with a guard. You looked awful. He hadn’t seen you since Will took you away, dealing with Santi’s shit… Blood was still on your nightgown.

“Madonna…” Frankie was no longer pleaded with Iris, went to hug his wife. Will instructed the guard not to harm Madonna in the slightest, and Iris appreciated Frankie’s addendum not to hurt her either, but Iris knew she was a second thought.

“Francisco, what’s happening?” Your hands pressed to his chest, looking up at him. 

Frankie told you the same thing he told her, to just do as we’re told and it would be okay. Iris had a sick, sick feeling. “Trust me.” He said, hugging her. He looked at Iris. “Please.” Then made his exit with Will. Iris heard crowds outside, and wondered what sick, perverted show Santi was going to make you do now? Would he make you hurt her? That was fine by Iris. 

You turned to her, those scared eyes chipping away at the ice in her heart. Iris knew you didn’t mean to get Rey killed, and blaming you for Jonah’s death was unfair and cruel… but she needed to be angry. 

“Iris…” You whimper, wet eyes trickling tears down your pretty face. You held your stomach in fear.

When the door opens, you and Iris are quickly ushered out into the courtyard where hundreds of people looked on. Taking in the scene, Iris heard your heavy breathing. What she didn’t need, was you having a panic attack… When she turned to see your horror stricken face, Iris couldn’t help feel that ice melt a little more. Fuck, you were young. 23, just a child. You deserved better. Iris took your hand.

But you were looking past her. “Iris…” You said with wide eyes. Iris turned around.

On the courtyard, Rey’s body was tied to an X on top of a funeral pyre, strung up and limp and lifeless. She felt sick to her stomach, turning up towards where the four wanna be gods sat upon their ivory tower, daring to look upon her love. She couldn’t read their expressions, but watched as someone lit the pyre. Reyansh’s body went up in flames.

Santiago spoke not to them, but to the crowd. “Reyash Saha is guilty of high treason! As is custom, those closest must dance as he burns. Not even the Madonna is above the will of Divine Mother.”

He emphasized those last words, Iris knew, to put you in your place. You weren’t a goddess to him, you weren’t his mommy dearest. You were a womb.

The music started up.

“DAAAANCE!!!!” He screamed down to you both, and as the smell of burnt flesh filled the yard, you began to dance. It was scared, it was erratic, it was for your life and the life of your child. Iris understood that fear. But she wasn’t going to dance. It’s been a while since the last public burning, 2 years, she thinks, but she’d been at plenty, danced in several. This is not how it was done.

Firstly, this was supposed to be execution. You didn’t burn dead bodies. If a traitor was dead already, the close family and friends were questioned but there was no grand show.

If this were a proper burning, there was a ceremony, there were prayers to Divine Mother, chants.

The yard would be filled with everyone the traitor knew. Most of the guardsmen would be here for Reyansh, the house laborers, townsfolk… not just trying to terrifying to women. If the Madonna isn’t above it, Francisco shouldn’t be either.

No, this was just a show for the girl.

“Iris!” You grab onto her. “You need to dance!” Your words were broken and desperte, but Iris shrugged you off. “PLEASE!” You sob, grabbing her hands to force her but Iris shoved you back.

“I WON”T BE MADE TO DANCE AS MY HUSBAND BURNS!”

“But-” You reach for her, but she slaps your hand away. If the guard cared about the abuse of the Madonna, they didn’t care. The music was too loud to hear even shouting.

“Tell me, is there anything in the world that could convince you to dance as Frankie burned?” The image horrified you, but you remained resolute.

“My baby! Please I know you can’t understand but I need you, I can’t lose anyone else- IRIS PLEASE JUST DANCE!” You scream, pulling on her.

Iris grabbed your shoulders, stopping you. “I’m pregnant too.”

You were frozen in stunned silence. “You… Rey…”

But Iris shakes her head. “I never had sex with him. Ben fucked everyone under the sun and I didn’t wanna chance giving him anything… But I told him, I broke down and told him… he’d figured it out.” Iris feels the tears coming, but forces them down. Don’t let them see you cry. Hadn’t she told you that before? “Rey said… said he’d raise it as his own. That he’d take me away and now he’s dead. And those men up there-” She pointed to the balcony. “Are why. I won’t tell you what to do, because you have your own child to think of, you are much further along, but me?” She pointed to her chest covered in Rey’s blood. “I refuse to give them anymore satisfaction. They cannot take my dignity. I won’t let them.”

*

Santiago watched from the balcony, smug as Madonna started dancing. Jesus she was pathetic. He expected Iris to not dance, giving him a reason to kill the brat finally. Maybe he’d take her for a little spin to see what Benny was so gunho about. But Madonna? Weak little thing like that had been trying to play big girl recently, acting tough, testing her boundaries like a fucking teenager and thinking her status protected her. It didn’t. But look at her now, dancing around as her best and probably only friend burned, just like she did, just like her paintings, just like her dad. 

It was amusing watching you try to save Iris. Your empathy was something that he was attracted to. You were sweet, he liked watching you paint. If you had behaved, he could have lived a whole life with you here with him, his Madonna, raising the savior for his roll… But no, you had to have a temper tantrum. You had to whore around as if 4 cocks weren’t enough. And yet, when it came time to really be brave…. You were like a little puppet on a string and he could toy with you as much as he-

What were you doing?

“Santi…”  Francisco tried to sooth as Santi’s knuckles turned white, gripping the balcony with a force as the sound of the music swelled around him. You stopped. Iris put her stupid fucking hands on you the way she put her stupid fucking hands on Ben’s body and tainted you. He watched with rage building inside. She was standing too fucking close.

“Will.” Santi barked, not taking his eyes off you two. Will was the most observant. Frankie could be naive and Ben wasn’t paying attention to most things. “Are they fucking?”

He swore he heard Will sigh. “No, Santi. Jesus fucking christ.”

Then they were conspiring against him. The two girls stilled completely. And then they turned around, looking up at him.

Santiago looked right back. They were fucking dead.

Okay!!! were so close to the end! I think it flashback chapter, then the finale might have to be split lololol.

Not a super eventful chapter, but I thought things needed to breathe before the last pieces. Still, I think enough is here to entertain!!

Thank you to everyone who has stuck through all the hiatuses. Ily!!!

If anyone is interested, I just finished my finale of Blessed Be the Fruit which took over a year for a short series. sorry ;-;

anyway its done!

Love you all soooooo much!

If you like Logan Howlett, check out my new series Be Quiet

Poll time!

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

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Tags are working like SHIT these days for me and many, many others so make sure to follo wthe rooms on fire tag or my update account.

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[dee-guin]

Day 10 - Freedom

It's been 10 years since the in-game ending of Operation Blackout and I still have so much nostalgia for the event and of course Club penguin <3 I've had so much fun doing this art challenge which I WILL finish in the coming weeks, mostly indulging myself in OC content but since its the final day bonus canon characters <333

[weaselmcdiesel]

Do You Love The Color Of The 413?

[remxedmoon]

y’know what? fuck you. *UNGRAYSCALES YOUR ISATS*

no wait come back there’s greyscale versions under the cut :(

[98chao]

cookie run: kingdom characters as the "i want a baby" meme

[seventeendeer]

this isn't at all meant to be condescending or finger-waggy because 100% we all have blind spots like this, but I'm really, really hoping that the people who never found Gaiman's approach to his own fandom concerning in any way will take this all as a learning moment.

he was an older, hyper-famous author engaging directly and frequently with an online audience of largely vulnerable young marginalized people. he presented himself as cultured and worldly, and made himself approachable as someone to go to for advice, encouragement and "wisdom." his manner of speech was extremely pathos-heavy and clearly intended to be comforting and encouraging in exactly the way his target demographic needed it to be to swallow every word. the way he spoke about stories and creativity was designed to make young creative hopefuls feel special and important, while sweeping real analytical techniques under the rug - in hindsight, likely so no one would think too critically about the disturbing amount of patriarchal abuse played for cheap shock value and voyerism in his own body of works.

Gaiman saw a target demographic that was desperate for an older creative role model to tell them they were worth something, and he exploited that pain to twist a narrative around himself where he was king and any critique leveled at him or his works were the enemy.

to be clear, he could have been innocent. he could totally have been just an out-of-touch old man saying nice things to people because he wanted to be kind and he thought he was a lot smarter than he really was. red flags are warning signs, not a surefire way to tell if someone is actually "secretly shitty."

but if you used to look up to him, PLEASE take this moment to revisit the ideas you absorbed from him. did you take his words to heart because they seemed to have objective merit? or did you take them to heart because it felt good to believe what he said? do you still hold these values? does knowing he was intentionally manipulating his online audience make you less certain? do you need more information from a different source before deciding one way or another?

again, I'm just really, really hoping people on here will take a moment to reevaluate the ideas and opinions he's injected into tumblr fandom culture, because his reach is immense and he has absolutely been manipulating popular perception of relevant topics to gain further influence and control the narrative around both his own and Pratchett's legacy. please, please take this moment to notice what he's been doing - and next time someone tries to pull the same shit, hopefully we'll be able to apply what we've learned from experience.

[dizzybizz]

magmas again

(magical girls here belong to @bardace !!!!)

[grzybjek]

A collage I made for one of the characters from my newest story. His name is Kundel by the way hes an absolute manfail and a menace

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[evelynpr]

Genshin Official Relationships and Status

Something to take note off in character relationships is what their "official and known" relationships are. So, I decided to try to make a chart of one with the playable cast and some extras.

This is a draft though. If you have criticisms and comments, absolutely please do leave them because I don't think my interpretations of these government systems are that accurate.

Anyways, here they are! The higher the placement, the higher the authority. Distance does not apply, and the legend is in each of the pictures.

Mondstadt: That's a lotta knights

They can be split between the Church and Knights, but the Church is still under the Grand Master as far as I know.

Power is surprisingly concentrated to 1/2 individuals only for a nation of freedom...Mond you gotta work on that...

Jean, Diluc, Kaeya, and Lisa are arranged the way they are in reference to the Klee summer event where they passed on who was looking after Mond.

Diluc still retains his high position because he has so many high credentials and connections (The Darknight Hero, Mond's richest man, high status in an intelligence network), despite being the Ex-Cavalry Captain.

Rosaria is an official recognized nun, but her vigilante works are by her own accord, hence the colors.

I am not sure whatsoever where Jean and Barbara's father, the Cardinal, should really be placed, or if he even still holds the position.

Poor Noelle does so much more Mond, but is lowest in status...please just make her a knight already T__T

Liyue: Zhongli and his powerful lesbians

I really am not sure if Ningguang is who Liyue's closest "leader", but that is how I felt during most of Liyues events

I'm assuming that the adepti now have a lesser status in Liyue because of the shift in power to the humans during the archon quest

How high Beidou's status is is, completely informal. She's right beside Ningguang because they do find each other to be equal competitors in their own way.

Those directly connected to Zhongli are those I assumed to have taken direct orders from him, hence why Beidou and Keqing are not included although they do respect him as their archon (Keqing in her own way)

I feel like I'm missing people here, compared to Mond, so uh, help me out here-

Inazuma: They just had a civil war...woops

I am reallyyy unsure how to label Sangonomiya island's status. Are they under the shogun? Are they their own separate territory?

Otherwise, Inazuma is pretty straightforward with its 3 factions and families

Sumeru: The whole government was just overthrown

Are there like, genuinely so sages right now, or replacement Grand Sage??? Nahida you need to do something asap-

Scara doesn't exactly have equal status to Alhaitham as Acting Grand Sage, but I felt it was more important to show that Scara is working directly under Nahida

Speaking of which, the title "shadow" is used because it's the same role that Ei served to Makoto, which I find poetic. If there is an official or better title tho, I'd love to hear it.

Hopefully, as time passes, there will be more representatives from the desert with high status. Poor Candace is carrying the desert's status on her back-

Should I have included the Corps of Thirty even if there are no playable characters...?

Fontaine: Fancy Schmancy Titles

I honestly reallyyyy wished that Neuv and Wrio were on equal standing, but in the eyes of Fontaine, that probably just isn't true.

Even so, absolute do not underestimate how important Wrio's role is in Fontaine's justice system, because without the Fortress functioning as it is, so much of Fontaine's justice would fall apart.

Despite Furina's death penalty and retirement, I still believe she deserves the title of archon with the highest status. No matter what happens, she is still Fontaine's idol and savior. (Besides, if she wanted/needed anything, Neuv would give it to her.)

How high Navia, Clorinde, and Chevy's statuses are in relation to each other in reality is...not explicit?

Really, Clorinde is just another employee under Fontaine's justice system, and isn't a head in anyway, while Chevy and Navia are actual leaders. But, Clorinde is the best Champion Duelist, so does that make them cancel out...?

Anyways that's all from me! It's pretty interesting to me just how much of the cast are part of their respective nation's government, which only makes sense given the kind of ruckus the traveler causes. Have a good day!

[tangramkey]

i love my Basketbot Portal AU

[kerorokai]

so many funny dynamics in aa i think we need to explore

[blueskiesofsaturn]

Familial relationships in rise getting confusing? No?????? Well worry your pretty little head no more! For I have created a ✨helpful chart✨!

also i can't take full credit for the "nightmare blunt rotation love triangle", that goes to MNMC

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.