#retribution rails

[razreads]

Just ‘cus someone makes a mistake in their past don’t mean they’re always gonna go on making that same mistake forever and ever. Folks can change.

Erin Bowman, Retribution Rails

[aventurineswife]

Hi again :3 as mentioned I'm just gonna write these down as to not forget and you'll get here eventually

Platonic Boothill, Aventurine, Ratio and Jing Yuan meeting reader's biological father who is responsible for their mother's death and is generally just an awful person but wants to get his child back for reasons unknown.

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Platonic Relationships, Found Family, Protective, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy (or Bittersweet) Ending, Justice & Retribution, Revenge Themes, Confrontation, Subtle Whump, Power Displays, Strong Bonds, Reader Has a Dark Past, Mentorship Elements.

Warnings: Mentions of Parental Abuse & Neglect (emotional, possibly physical), Mentions of Murder (reader’s father killed their mother), Emotional Manipulation & Gaslighting (father trying to reclaim the reader), Mild to Moderate Violence, Themes of Found Family vs. Toxic Biological Family, Confrontation Scenes, Reader Processing Trauma.

Tagslist: @themiddletenmasibling

Boothill sat on a barrel, one leg crossed over the other, fingers toying with a bullet between his fingers. His eyes gleamed under the dim light of the saloon, narrowing as he regarded the man across from him—your father.

"You got some nerve, showin’ up here after all these years," Boothill drawled, twirling the bullet before snapping it between his fingers. "What’s the play, huh? You waltz in, say a few pretty words, and think you can take ‘em back like nothin’ happened?"

Your father sneered. "I don’t need to justify myself to some gunslinger freak."

Boothill’s grin widened, sharp teeth flashing like a predator scenting weakness. "See, that’s where you’re wrong. ‘Cause you ain't talkin’ to just me. You’re talkin’ to the one who made sure they never had to go back to you. You’re talkin’ to the man who sees right through your lies."

You stood behind Boothill, fists clenched, emotions tangled. He had always been the first to step up when you couldn’t, shielding you from the past you’d tried to escape.

"You killed their mother," Boothill continued, voice devoid of its usual humor. "And now you think you can come back, like you got some kinda right?" He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "You lost that right the moment you pulled the trigger."

Your father scowled but didn’t move. Boothill stood up, slow and deliberate. "Now, I ain’t the law. I don’t got a badge. But I got my own way of dealin’ with muddle-fudger like you."

The mechanical plates in his fingers shifted as his hand hovered over his revolver.

"You best turn ‘round and leave, partner. Before I put you in the ground like the outlaw you are."

Your father took one last look at you. You felt the weight of his stare, the years of pain he’d inflicted. But with Boothill standing beside you, unwavering, you knew—you were never going back.

And your father knew it too.

Aventurine leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head as he regarded the man before him—your father. His signature smirk was in place, but his eyes were cold, calculating.

"Ah, family reunions. Always so dramatic," he mused, adjusting the golden rings on his fingers. "But you see, I have a rule against bad investments. And you, my dear sir, are the worst kind."

Your father scoffed. "This is none of your concern. I came for my child."

Aventurine exhaled, feigning disappointment. "So predictable. You don’t actually care about them, do you? No, no, you just don’t like losing something you think belongs to you."

You stiffened beside Aventurine, but his presence was like a wall between you and the man who had haunted your nightmares.

Your father’s lips curled into a sneer. "What do you even know about it?"

"Oh, plenty," Aventurine replied smoothly, swirling the wine glass in his hand before setting it down with a clink. "See, I know the type. Men who think they own what they destroy. Men who kill and expect forgiveness. Men who show up after years of absence and think they still hold the cards."

He leaned forward, eyes glinting. "But here’s the thing—I rigged the deck before you even sat down."

A tense silence filled the air.

Aventurine smiled. "They’re not going with you. And I suggest you leave before the stakes get... lethal."

Your father hesitated, but there was something in Aventurine’s gaze, something dangerous beneath the charm. He knew when he was outmatched.

He turned sharply and walked away.

Aventurine leaned back, sighing theatrically. "Honestly, predictable men bore me."

You exhaled, tension leaving your shoulders. "Thank you."

He winked. "What are friends for, if not for running conmen like him out of town?"

Ratio stood between you and your father, arms crossed, his piercing gaze unwavering. His alabaster mask rested on the table, revealing his sharp eyes—the kind that saw through deception with ease.

"I fail to understand the logic in your request," Ratio said coolly, tilting his head. "You claim to want them back, yet you were the one who ensured they had no home to return to."

Your father clenched his jaw. "They’re my blood."

Ratio’s lips curled slightly in amusement. "Blood is merely biological happenstance. It has no bearing on worth or responsibility." He took a step forward, and though he did not raise his voice, there was an undeniable weight to his words. "You ended their mother’s life. And now, you dare demand theirs?"

Your father’s expression twisted in frustration, but Ratio’s calm, intellectual disdain was an impenetrable wall.

"Pathetic," Ratio remarked. "Your mind is so small, so desperately clinging to control you do not have. Tell me, have you truly convinced yourself that you deserve their forgiveness?"

Your father flinched.

Ratio smiled, but it held no warmth. "You are nothing but a relic of a past they’ve outgrown. Be grateful for that mercy and leave before I decide to educate you in a more... permanent manner."

Your father hesitated for only a moment before turning and vanishing into the night.

Ratio glanced at you. "Are you all right?"

You nodded, exhaling shakily. "I think so."

Ratio adjusted his cuffs, his sharp gaze softening just slightly. "Good. Then let us never speak of that fool again."

Jing Yuan sat, eyes calm but unreadable as he regarded your father. The General’s fingers drummed softly against the wooden desk, the only sound in the otherwise suffocating silence.

"You are asking for something that is no longer yours," Jing Yuan finally said, voice smooth yet firm. "And after what you have done, I wonder… do you truly believe you deserve it?"

Your father sneered. "This is none of your concern."

Jing Yuan chuckled softly, though there was no amusement in it. "You are mistaken. Everything concerning their safety is my concern."

Your father’s confidence wavered.

Jing Yuan leaned forward, resting his chin against his hand. "I have led armies, quelled rebellions, and negotiated peace among the stars. I have seen men like you, men who believe power grants them ownership over others." His gaze sharpened. "You are mistaken yet again."

Your father opened his mouth, but Jing Yuan’s next words left no room for argument.

"They are under my protection. I do not take that duty lightly."

The weight of authority in his tone was absolute. A silent warning.

Your father stiffened, realizing he had lost. Without another word, he turned and left.

Jing Yuan sighed, looking at you with a faint, knowing smile. "A shame, really. I had half a mind to throw him in a cell."

You chuckled weakly. "I wouldn’t have stopped you."

Jing Yuan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You are safe now. That is all that matters."

[two-nines-left-spleen]

Ok but at this point its not even funny anymore. I saw the RRR, I wanted Gabriel. GABRIEL.

THIS GAME KEEPS GIVING ME MEN 😭

[roarinlala]

Celestial warlock: actively mocking the cultists’ techniques as they’re trying to sacrifice her, and detailing the exact divine punishment she has planned for them in violent detail

My Paladin, overhearing this as she’s mowing through imps to reach her:

[porterdavis]

I'm going to post the entire dispatch in hopes more people will read it. It's a stylized version of how US media would cover events in America if they were happening in a foreign country. Chilling.

(Written by Garrett Graff)

-----

Musk Junta Seizes Key Governmental Offices February 1, 2025 By William Boot

WASHINGTON, D.C. — What started Thursday as a political purge of the internal security services accelerated Friday into a full-blown coup, as elite technical units aligned with media oligarch Elon Musk moved to seize key systems at the national treasury, block outside access to federal personnel records, and take offline governmental communication networks.

With rapidity that has stunned even longtime political observers, forces loyal to Musk’s junta have established him as the all-but undisputed unelected head of government in just a matter of days, unwinding the longtime democracy’s constitutional system and its proud nearly 250-year-old tradition of the rule of law. Having secured themselves in key ministries and in a building adjacent to the presidential office complex, Musk’s forces have begun issuing directives to civil service workers and forcing the resignation of officials deemed insufficiently loyal, like the head of the country’s aviation authority.

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The G-7 country’s newly installed president, a mid-level oligarch named Donald Trump, appeared amid Musk’s moves to be increasingly merely a figurehead head of state. Trump is a convicted felon with a long record of family corruption and returned in power in late January after a four-year interlude promising retribution and retaliation against foreign opponents and a domestic “Deep State.” He had been charged with attempting to overthrow the peaceful transition of power that had previously removed him from office in 2021, but loyalist elements in the judiciary successfully blocked his prosecution and incarceration, easing his return to power.

Over the last two weeks, loyalist presidential factions and Musk-backed teams have launched sweeping, illegal Stalin-esque purges of the national police forces and prosecutors, as well as offices known as inspectors-general, who are typically responsible for investigating government corruption. While official numbers of the unprecedented ousters were kept secret, rumors swirled in the capital that the scores of career officials affected by the initial purges could rise into the thousands as political commissars continued to assess the backgrounds of members of the police forces. 

The mentally declining and aging head of state, who has long embraced conspiracist thinking, spent much of the week railing in bizarre public remarks against the country’s oppressed racial and ethnic minorities, whom he blamed without evidence for causing a deadly plane crash across the river from the presidential mansion. Unfounded racist attacks on those minorities have been a key foundation of Trump’s unpredicted rise to political power from a career as a real estate magnate and reality TV host and date back to his first announcement that he would seek the presidency in 2015, when he railed against “rapists” being sent into the country from its southern neighbor.

In one of his first moves upon returning to the presidency, he mobilized far-right paramilitary security forces to begin raids at churches, schools, and workplaces to identify and remove racial minorities, including those who had long lived in harmony with the country’s white Christian majority. He also immediately moved to release from prison some 1,500 supporters who had participated in his unsuccessful 2021 insurrection, including members of violent far-right militias who promptly upon release swore fealty to him in any future civil unrest. Elsewhere, even as he released violent criminals onto the streets, Trump by fiat pulled longstanding government security protection from former military and health officials he felt had betrayed him.

Underscoring his apparent disconnection from reality, reports surfaced that the president had ordered military forces to unleash an environmental catastrophe and flood regions of a separatist province known as California that is led by a high-profile political opponent. The order underscored how the military, which had resisted Trump’s unconstitutional power grabs in his first administration, was now led by a subservient defense minister, a favored TV personality with no experience in management who faced an embarrassing series of allegations about his drunken behavior in the workplace.

Foreign allies who had long aligned themselves with the United States on the international stage were unsettled by increasingly destabilizing nationalistic and imperialist rhetoric coming from the president’s social media accounts—largely posted to a network owned and run by Trump himself—and worried in private conversations in capital embassies that he would mobilize the compliant military to fulfill heretofore unimaginable territorial ambitions that included seizing the country’s northern neighbor, which shares the world’s longest undefended border, and potentially colonizing Panama and Greenland.

Both the country’s defense minister, who has previously said he does not believe women should be allowed to serve in combat roles, and Trump’s new interior minister, who appeared on national TV wearing the paramilitary uniform of the border security force central to Trump’s political rise, spent much of their first days echoing and amplifying the president’s hysteria about racial and ethnic minorities. They and other government officials also immediately canceled all official observances of religious and ethnic minority holidays and launched efforts to scrub official websites and prohibit educating workers or schoolchildren about those minorities’ long, proud history in the country. Overnight Friday, hours after journalists had gone home, the defense minister’s office announced it would bar establishment independent media outlets from working out of the country’s military headquarters and replace them with friendly right-wing media organs.

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The administration’s propaganda minister also announced Friday, apparently with little preparation, that it would initiate an immediate, unexpected, and seemingly ill-considered trade war with the country’s two primary economic partners, a move that if implemented would upend the national economy, disrupt supply chains, and accelerate the return of an inflationary crisis that has roiled domestic politics over the last five years and had just seemed to be returning to normal. Ironically, it was that very inflationary crisis and Trump’s promises on the campaign trail to lower the price of eggs that paved the way for his unforeseen election victory in November.

The country’s other business oligarchs have watched Musk’s unexpected and rapid rise to power with trepidation, and leading media and technology companies who compete with Musk’s extensive business empire—like Meta, Amazon, Disney, Paramount, Apple, and OpenAI—have quickly lined up to negotiate and pay bribes to the president that would allow their companies to operate unimpeded; initial payment terms ranged from million-dollar gifts to the presidential inauguration to $15 million and $25 million payments, made by Disney and Meta, to fund the construction of a presidential shrine. The highest known payment was $40 million from Amazon, which was structured as a gift to the president’s wife in exchange for the media company having the opportunity to film a hagiographic biopic.

It was unclear, exactly, what deal terms any of those bribes and payments unlocked and when subsequent tribute payments would be expected, although on Saturday Trump moved to fire and neuter government watchdogs that had long bedeviled the country’s financial elite.

Throughout the week’s fast-moving seizure of power—one that seems increasingly irreversible by the hour—neither loyalist nor opposition parliamentary leaders raised meaningful objection to the new regime or the unraveling of the country’s constitutional system of checks and balances. A few members of the geriatric legislature body offered scattered social media posts condemning the move, but parliament — where both houses are controlled by so-called “MAGA” members handpicked for their loyalty to the president — went home early for the weekend even as Musk’s forces spread through the capital streets.

It was unclear what role, if any, Musk’s forces would allow parliament to have in the new governmental structure by the time it next returned to the national assembly known as Capitol Hill.

[sunderwight]

SV scenario where Shen Jiu is also Shen Yuan's Meimei.

Trans egg SJ never got to examine her gender identity very much in her first life. What with all the enslavement, abuse (given as well as received), misunderstandings, betrayals, dismemberment, and death, there was far too much for her to ever come to terms with a set of concepts she'd never really had the luxury to entertain. By the time Shen Jiu was a peak lord, the Shen Qingqiu persona was locked in, and any dreams of a different life or inclinations to the contrary of her role were ruthlessly quashed by SJ herself.

But when SJ finally dies and her soul is free to reincarnate (taking a few more memories than usual along for the ride), she has mixed feelings about being born as the youngest daughter of a wealthy family.

The mixed feelings don't actually last long, though after a while she starts to wonder why the fates would grant her a reprieve? Maybe remembering her past life is her punishment, because it's certainly the worst part of her new situation. Her parents are indulgent, her older brothers all dote on her and spoil her, and when she tests limits she's only gently rebuked if she gets rebuked at all. Not only is she allowed to wear fine dresses and look pretty, she's expected to (actually the expectation does chafe, a bit). But even when she uses foul language, skips classes, reads controversial books, and commits myriad other tiny rebellions, no real retribution ever comes of it.

Even despite everything, after some years Shen Jiu starts to become... not complacent, but perhaps calmer would be a better description. She has a stable future handed to her on a silver platter. Very few things remind her of her past, either. She can read books about snotty highborn lords getting railed by werewolves as readily as classics of literature or academic papers on science, business, culture, politics, or whatever else takes her fancy. Her family doesn't even put demands on her to marry, despite some of her mother's hints in that direction. For the first time, Shen Jiu has a life where it seems like she can't fail, she can only succeed however much she wants to. It's like having nowhere to go but up, except without the part about hitting rock bottom.

A foolish set of assumptions, in the end. There's always something to lose.

When Shen Yuan suddenly dies, Shen Jiu recognizes the sinister hand of the same entity which oversaw her own reincarnation. One which had visited her dreams quite recently, trying to tempt her back to her first life with offers of being able to change the past. It wasn't even difficult to deny it. Shen Jiu doesn't believe she could change what happened, and she doesn't really want to try. Her one regret is what happened to that person, the one who died so horribly while rushing to her rescue, and even that, she doesn't know how she would change (because she still doesn't know why he bothered in the first place).

But how dare the System God take the silliest and softest of her brothers to try and fix her accursed first life?! Luo Binghe will eat him alive! Cang Qiong will mistake him for a demon or a madman or worse, and throw him into some cell somewhere, if they don't just kill him outright!

Shen Meimei tries to negotiate with the System, but it tells her the window of opportunity for her to go back instead has passed. Smarmy piece of shit. There's nothing she can do without supernatural help, however, except bide her time and wait for another "window of opportunity". It's in the midst of this that she discovers PIDW, and its (terrible) account not only of the broad strokes of her first life and death, but of what came afterwards. That little beast really wrecked the world, huh? And all those women, too. She's never been more grateful to have not figured herself out in her first life. But at least with access to this information, she can try and prepare more. (She's suspicious of who actually wrote this account as well -- is Luo Binghe himself in this world? Better to leave it now, in that case, before he inevitably makes another bid for power and destroys everything in his wake all over again!)

When the System finally gives her an opportunity to go back (as herself, or rather "Bonus Epilogue Side Character -- Shen Qingqiu's Mysterious Little Sister!") she is braced for any number of outcomes. Shen Yuan could be dead. He could be imprisoned. He could have had his limbs all cut off. He could be stuffed into a pickle jar. He could be hiding or on the run somewhere. Hopefully, he'll be hiding behind that person, confused and distraught but still intact thanks to the sect leader's guilt-driven sense of obligation. Most likely if the same number of years have passed since Shen Yuan "left", he's already been destroyed by Luo Binghe and all Shen Jiu will be able to do is avenge him. But she has some ideas of how to kill the beast, so, she will.

Of course, what she finds is nothing she expected, and almost even worse.

Luo Binghe married her brother?!

Death is too good for him! Shen Jiu's going to skin him alive!!!

[make-me-imagine]

Something Better

Plot: When you return to an island you used to call home, you run into an old flame. Zoro takes matters into his own hands to get some long-awaited retribution for you.

Requested By: Anonymous

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to cheating and toxic relationships. Mentions of violence (past-tense). Brief description of injuries.

Words: 2,375

As the once familiar shore grew closer, you felt a pit in your stomach deepening. The island approaching had been a home for you for some years, but by the time you left, you had been certain you would never want to return. All of those fond memories of a new adventure on a once unknown island, were tainted by the same person who had brought you there in the first place.

Feeling eyes on you from the crew you let out a soft sigh.

"I thought you used to live here, why do you look so miserable? I thought you would be glad to be back."

You glanced at Nami as she spoke before you shook your head softly, "I left for a reason."

"What reason?"

You looked over at Zoro as he spoke, your heart palpitating. How would he react if you told the story? Would he care at all?

He studied your eyes and you remained silent, as you debated if you should tell the story now, later, or never.

"Did you get in trouble?" Sanji asked with curiosity.

"Did you get kicked out?" Usopp asked with a mouth full of popcorn.

Before you could answer Luffy stood up and smelled the air, "Do you smell that?"

You finally looked away from the others before you nodded, "Seafood gumbo, the islands most famous dish."

Stepping away from the railing you left the previous asked questions unanswered as you prepared to dock the ship. You reminded yourself you were only stopping for supplies, you'd only be here for a day or two. You might not even see the reason you left the island in the first place.

Or so you hoped. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel, right?

The familiar sights and smells engulfed you as you walked through the market with Zoro. The others had wandered off looking for various supplies. Why Zoro stuck by your side, you weren't sure, not that you were complaining. You and the broody swordsman had grown close recently.

A few people even recognized you as you passed stalls. It felt good in a weird way, if it weren't for the lingering pit in your stomach.

"Well, you aren't hiding, and people aren't exactly trying to chase you off or arrest you. So I would assume you didn't leave the island because you did something bad."

"Good observation skills." You said with a hint of sarcasm, earning a soft smile from Zoro.

You knew he was asking what happened, without actually asking what happened. You let out a soft breath.

"I moved here with someone. We were young and wanted an adventure. I thought he was my future, but to him, I was just one option of many. He cheated on me, lied to me, used me and embarrassed me, so I left. "

Zoro's hand softly twisted around the hilt of his sword. "Sounds like a catch."

You scoffed before stopping at a stall with the islands local fruit. You gently held one in your palm, reminiscing of the flavor you once loved. Zoro watched you closely, wondering if the pain you felt here still lingered, or if it was strictly resentment.

Hearing your name called from nearby, you and Zoro turned to see a tall man headed towards you, surprise in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. Zoro eyed him as your stomach twisted.

"Speak of the Devil." You muttered, just loud enough for Zoro to hear, causing his grip to tighten around his sword.

"Well, well, well, look who came back." The man grinned as he stopped just in front of you. His eyes raked over you and Zoro felt his jaw clench in anger.

"Well, well, well, look who never left." You countered, in a similar condescending tone.

He continued to smile, but you saw a small twinge of the eye you knew as a familiar sign of annoyance.

"To what do we owe the honor of your return?"

"You don't need to know." Zoro broke in, causing your ex to finally look over at the swordsman.

He looked Zoro up and down with a soft smirk. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't notice your bodyguard here."

Zoro took a small step closer, his eyes piercing. "Well now you do."

You saw your ex swallow hard, as he tried to keep his composure, not used to anyone not backing down from him. You couldn't help the smile that graced your face as you saw Zoro's actions.

Reaching out, you gently grabbed Zoro's arm before giving your ex a hard look.

"Like he said, you don't need to know why I'm here."

Leaving the fruit stall behind, you walked away, Zoro kept an eye on your ex before moving to follow you.

After a few moments you side-eyed Zoro, "So, you're my bodyguard now?"

Zoro's lip curled slightly, "I guess I am."

Zoro sighed with contentment as he set down his half empty glass. The people in the bar chattered and laughed around him.

His mind kept wandering to you and the story you felt you couldn't share. The thought of how your ex had treated you caused his gut to twist. He couldn't help but wish he had known you before, he could have saved you the pain of being with someone like your ex. And instead, been with someone like him. Whisked you off on a better adventure and all that. He couldn't help but wonder if you would have gone with him.

Hearing an obnoxious laugh come from across the bar, he did a double take as he spotted your ex.

"Speak of the devil." He muttered, repeating your words from earlier.

As if your ex felt Zoro's eyes burning into him, he noticed Zoro and smirked. Zoro smiled softly to himself as he tapped his fingers on the table, watching your ex saunter across the bar towards him, clearly having had more than one drink beforehand.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Y/n's body guard."

Zoro rolled his eyes as your ex sat down across from him. "So where are they?"

"Where's who?" Zoro asked, voice low, as if daring him to say your name.

He smirked, taking the challenge. "Y/n. I'd love to see them again. We have a lot we could reminisce about. Hell, maybe we'd even strike up that old flame again."

Zoro clenched his jaw as he leaned forward, palm wrapping around his sword, "Not gonna happen."

As Zoro stood up, your ex scoffed, "What, not even over your dead body?"

Zoro quickly finished off his drink and slammed the glass down before he looked at him, dead-panned, "No. But maybe over yours."

As your ex froze for a moment, Zoro began to walk away, but his chest burned with the need for more gratification. But how would you react?

"Sure you don't want to know all of Y/n's dirty little secrets?" Your ex said with a sing song voice as he stood up as well.

Zoro stopped in his tracks before turning back to your ex and smirking softly.

The cold sea breeze blew over you as you sat on the edge of the ship, staring out at the island. A weird sense of nostalgia sat over you as you both wished to stay longer, and to leave immedietely.

Hearing footsteps, you glanced back to see Zoro boarding the ship. His eyes were already on you and your heart fluttered momentarily. You looked back out at the city, hearing Zoro approach you before climbing over the bannister and sitting beside you.

"The bar still as lively as ever?"

He nodded, "Seemed like half the island was there."

You nodded with a soft smile your eyes moving to Zoro's hand as he held out something in front of you. Your heart jolted as you saw the familiar fruit you had been looking at earlier in the day.

You took it from him and smiled.

"It seemed like you wanted to get one earlier." He said softly.

You looked over at him but he avoided your eyes, staring straight off to the city. You smiled as you began peeling the fruit, before your eyes caught on fresh scrapes on the back of Zoro's hands.

"...Did you...steal this from someone?"

"What?"

You motioned towards his hand and he scoffed, "Would that make you feel better or worse about the fruit?"

You eyed him closely before shrugging as you continued to peel the fruit. "I'm grateful either way"

He smiled at this, but took in a deep breath, knowing you would press for more.

"So, what really happened?"

He looked down at his knuckles with a smile before clearing his throat. "There was a situation, but I handled it."

"Hmm. You tend to find yourself in a lot of situations."

He chuckled, "It's kind of my thing."

You nodded, "Can't find the trail of breadcrumbs you left behind, but you can always find a fight."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means you have a terrible sense of direction"

"I do not."

You pursed your lips with a soft glare and he sighed, before shaking his head, fighting a smile.

After a moment of silence, you hand him a piece of the fruit. He took it slowly before eating it, enjoying the sweet yet fresh taste. He nodded, showing that he enjoyed it and you smiled.

"This is one of the only things I missed about this island."

"One of?"

You hummed, "I admit, I had some good memories here."

"How many of them were with him?"

You could sense the hint of venom in his tone and you repressed a smile. "None that come to mind." You said softly, noticing the way Zoro's jaw seemed to relax, yet his hands clenched.

"Zoro?"

He slowly looked over at you and almost froze at the soft look on your face.

"Yeah?"

"What happened to your hand?"

He swallowed, "I hit it on something."

"On what?"

"Your exes face."

There was a moment of still silence before you pressed your lips together, biting them, as you clearly repressed a laugh.

Zoro felt relief and amusement wash over him as you let out the soft giggle that you could no longer repress.

"Your not mad then?"

You thought for a moment before you shrugged, "I am mad but not because you hit him."

He frowned, "Then why?"

You looked over at him with a straight face. "I'm mad because you didn't hit him while I was there to see it."

Zoro stared at you for a second before both of you broke into grins. He chuckled as you giggled before letting out a sigh.

Zoro shrugged his head. "I mean...I could go pick him up off the bar floor and bring him over here if you want. "

You laughed again and Zoro grinned, relishing in the sounds as they made his heart pound proudly.

Handing him a slice of the fruit you grinned, "Tempting."

He smiled softly as he ate it, "You know it doesn't matter what you left behind here right?"

You tilted your head slightly in question. "Why not?"

He cleared his throat briefly, "Because what you have now is more important. It's better."

Your eyes locked and you could feel the tension growing.

You smiled softly as you nodded. "Yeah, it is."

He gazed at you softly, his mind running wild with a thousand things he wanted to say. His thoughts were silenced when Sanji came sauntering from the kitchen to announce that dinner was ready.

Looking back to see the others quickly heading in, you began to rise. But before you did you quickly pressed a kiss to Zoro's cheek, causing him to freeze.

"Thank you."

Your whispered voice echoed in his mind as his cheeks burned from the brief kiss. His heart was pounding as he looked behind him seeing your back disappear into the ship.

Getting a hold of himself, he rose and headed inside. Not so subtly kicking Usopp out of his seat beside you. Sharing a brief yet knowing look with you as he did.

As Zoro and Sanji loaded on a few more boxes of supplies you took one more look at the island in front of you. You were glad you were leaving, but at the same time, you wondered when you would be back next.

Your eyes caught onto a figure walking towards you and you let out a sigh, just loud enough for Zoro to glance over at you. He spotted the same thing and rose with a huff of air.

As Zoro appeared beside you, his arm pressing against yours, you felt your tense shoulders relax as your ex sneered at the two of you.

His lip was busted, and he had to matching bruises under each eye.

"New look? It suits you."

"I was thinking the same thing." Zoro mused.

Your ex looked between you and Zoro before his eyes paused on you. You shook your head softly.

"Nothing you could say is a good idea, trust me."

He hesitated a few times before giving in with a huff of air and a roll of his eyes as he turned and sauntered back down the dock.

"Who was that guy?" Usopp asked.

"No one important." You said softly.

Feeling Zoro's eyes on you, you glanced over at him. "Still regret coming here?"

You hummed softly as you looked back at the village seeing your exes head disappear into the crowd.

"No, not really. Besides, I got a good memory to leave with."

"Just one?"

You smiled softy as your eyes locked, "A couple."

He smirked as he scanned your face, "We'll make a lot more."

"We?" You mused your heart fluttering.

"Yeah. We."

Feeling someone sling their arms over your shoulders, you looked back to see Luffy's grinning face. "Yes we will!"

You paused for a second as you locked eyes with Zoro before letting out a laugh, and Zoro chuckled before shaking his head.

As Luffy began talking animatedly about the next stop, you felt Zoro's hand brush yours at your side, before he gently squeezed it.

No matter where you came from or left some heartbreak behind. Your next adventure would make it all worth it.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

OPLA Taglist: @fangirlextraordinaire

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[filtheopathic]

ode to a situationship — otoya eita

PART 2 - the sixth time

WC - 4.3k

SYN - The ball is in your court now.

CW - [18+!] afab!reader mentioned to be wearing makeup and heels, alcohol mention, dubcon (bc of alcohol), oral (m receiving), unprotected piv sex, premature ejaculation, orgasm denial sort of - [terms used : babe, baby]

SERIES MASTERLIST — PREV — NEXT

the sixth time:

You and Otoya are a match made in hookup heaven, that much becomes clear rather quickly. 

It’s easy, it’s fun. You’re hot and you banter with him. You laugh at his jokes despite calling them lame. And you’re kind of a freak (but Otoya is into that). 

Most importantly, you don’t expect much from him besides a few mind-shattering orgasms like every other week or so. And even that expectation isn’t much of an expectation at all, seeing as you’ve never texted him first to hook up. The ball has been in his court this whole time. 

Day-drinking with the girls is what changes that. 

When Otoya receives a string of text messages from you in the middle of the day, his immediate reaction is something between fear and fascination. But once he sees that they start with ‘I’m 4 mimosas deep at brunch’ and end with ‘I’m so horny’, he lightens up significantly. Without a second thought he sends you his address (something Karasu has told him to not fuckin’ do anymore, since the last scorned woman who showed up seeking retribution through vandalism mistook his car for Otoya’s) and returns his attention to his video game.

You’re outside his complex within the hour, lipgloss rubbed off and legs on display. 

On your way in, you realize hazily that this is your first time in his apartment. It’s spacious and well-furnished. Definitely a “man apartment” but everything is stylishly minimal and clean, the layout clearly thought-out. The walls are mostly empty except for a massive tv and a couple framed pieces of art, one of which seems to be some sort of action movie poster. Your eyes fall to a shelf where a cluster of pictures stands beside a small row of books. 

All of the pictures are of men in soccer uniforms. Otoya is easy to spot amongst the group, if only because he seems so mellow compared to the imposing energy surrounding him. If their auras are loud and fiery, some even quite dark, then his is quiet and chilled, but still striking in its own way. Your attention gravitates to it immediately, just as it had when you first met. That makes you smile to yourself just a little.

One of the photos features him and a couple other teammates, all with medals hanging around their necks. Their uniforms are littered with grass-green scuffs, sweat glistening on toned skin, and you can see hints of a stadium in the background. It’s obvious that they’ve just won a match, and by the looks on the other men’s faces it was an important one. Otoya’s face is impassive as always, but you recognize the pride there only because you’ve come to know that shine in his eyes. 

You knew he was a professional athlete, but the gravity of it all hadn’t really hit you. You made it a point to avoid googling his name and it simply wasn’t in your nature to fawn over the men you messed around with, especially ones with obvious egos.

(“You play soccer?”

“Yeah,” Otoya says coolly, leaning back against your kitchen counter with a post-sex sluggishness. 

“Are you, like, good?”

His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes shine with a boyish sort of pride. “Yeah. They call me ‘the ninja’.”

You scowl at him, amusement barely concealed beneath. “Sure they do.”)

You settle into his couch while making idle conversation. You tell him of the day’s drunken shenanigans with your girls, and he informs you that he’s leaving the country tomorrow, traveling for a match. It’s all very casual and comfortable, even if you are buzzing with anticipation. You came here to get railed and he’s asking if you want to watch a movie (one he’d heard about from a teammate and thought you’d like) — you suspect he’s toying with you on purpose. 

It’s fun for him, you think, to mess with you like this. You’re not the type to blush easy, so instead he settles for frustrating you. It’s irritating, of course, but you can’t deny that the push-and-pull is entertaining. There’s a charm to it that has kept you coming back these last couple months.

Otoya throws his arm over the back of the couch and aims the remote at the tv, but you don’t let him get very far before you’re running your hand up the side of his neck and into his hair. Forward. Suggestive without speaking a word.

His eyes cut over to you. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Ignoring the moniker, you press on, now toying with the jewelry in his earlobe. “Thought my texts were clear.”

“I prefer face-to-face communication.”

You grip under his jaw and gently force him to look at you. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Wow. At least buy me dinner first.”

But his words have no weight like his greedy hands. They find your hips and pull you smoothly into his lap, and at the same time your mouth — impatient and still tasting of citrus — envelops his. Movie officially forgotten, you begin making out in earnest right there on his living room couch.

Kissing Otoya has become familiar in a way that sheds uncertainty. It’s no longer clumsy like the first time, and not so experimental like the next few times; there’s a comfortable ease settling in now. Still hungry, still undeniably lustful, but easy. A smooth flow, a familiar rhythm. 

The heat steadily rises between you, kisses getting wetter, bolder. You bite and pull on his lower lip the way you know he likes, smiling at the groan you get out of him. And with a force he knows you like, he palms the back of your neck and deepens the kiss, his tongue pressing forward to slide against yours.

A hand searches up under your shirt, smoothing over the curve of your lower back. The skin-to-skin contact makes you even more impatient. You know he’s taking his time with you, exploiting your eagerness to bring you to desperation — and it’s working. All the light groans and chaste touches are making you throb. You need him to touch you — really touch you. In a subconscious search for that friction you bare down on his lap and roll your hips back, gasping lightly into his mouth when the hard shape of him presses into you. 

“You have to take responsibility for that, you know,” he says, breathless but still smug. 

You want to call him an asshole, tell him that he’s the one who should be taking responsibility, but his hands are already gripping your hips, fingers sinking into plush skin and holding you still as he grinds up into you.

Fuck.

You know you say it out loud by the way his eyes light up like a fox on a hunt. His hold on your hips tightens.

“You want it that bad?” His lips are close to your ear now, voice low and teasing. Hands guiding you to grind down on him again, and again. “What was it you said in those texts? You miss my dick and you’re so horny?”

Otoya shifts his grip, palms smoothing over your ass and squeezing hard. You’re so wet you can feel the stickiness of it when he grabs you, the slip of your panties when he guides you over his cock. You’re turning to jelly in his lap and he knows it.

“I wanna hear you say it. Don’t get shy now.”

He’s right, of course, you do want it that bad, you did say all that shit — but you don’t want to say it out loud. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction a second time — not yet, not like this. 

You need to get the reins back.

Otoya gives them up easily, making no moves to resist when you untangle yourself and shift your weight. Crawling down to the floor, you hook both hands in the waistband of his sweats as you go and pull lightly in request — “Take these off.” You ignore his question, and he forgets it immediately.

In a smooth, quick motion, he pulls his sweats and boxers down and kicks them off to the side, baring himself to you with a thinly veiled excitement. Spreading his legs wide, he slides his hips down further on the seat of the couch. There’s a cool confidence ever present in his body, bordering on cocky as he settles back into the cushions and looks down at you expectantly. Like he’s waiting for you to put on a show for him. It’s as infuriating as it is arousing, and it’s exactly what you were seeking out by texting him in the first place. 

His cock stands long and hard, arching back towards his abdomen, almost mocking in how pretty it is. Smooth and milky in color, not thick but more than satisfying in length. You take him in your hand, squeezing and giving a slow, experimental pump as you shift closer. He smells like men’s body wash and a light, natural musk that clings to his skin. It fills your head, makes you feel drunk all over again. 

Heavy-lidded and hazy, you rub your cheek against his dick like a cat with its favorite toy. Up, down, then across to the other cheek with a firm grip on the base, disregarding the way it might sully your makeup. You’re taking your time – returning the favor. Otoya keeps himself steady, and you know by the way his gaze keeps flickering to your lips that he’s fighting the urge to take over and press himself past them.

You smack him gently against the side of your face just to feel the weight. His stomach tenses, his grip on his patience weakening by the second.

“Been thinking about this all day…” you admit, your voice a low drag of arousal, “Could barely focus at brunch. I just kept thinking about how badly I needed to suck your dick.”

You run your lips up the side of him, breath warm on his skin. “It made me so wet to think about. Almost wanted to touch myself right there under the table. If I had gotten any more drunk I might have.”

Otoya curses under his breath. You smile. 

His tip is nice and flushed now, glistening with precum that’s been steadily leaking with each pulse and twitch. You wet your lips with it, still teasing, before dipping your tongue in to taste. Otoya breathes in, tense. 

“Stay still,” you tell him, “Be good.” 

Arousal clouds your mind after that, and you feel his hand gently push your hair out of your face as you finally suck the tip of him into your mouth. You rest there for a moment, sucking and massaging the underside of it with your tongue until you feel his body tense even further, then you let yourself drop down.

The cockiness melts away with Otoya’s head falling back between his shoulders. 

The satisfaction of it is indescribable. Not just the power trip that comes with hearing him moan into the open air of his living room, but the feel of him. Maybe it’s the bit of alcohol still swirling in your system, or your own oral fixation, but the fit of him inside your mouth makes your head swim. His skin is warm, practically radiating, and firm pressed against the flat of your tongue. Thick enough to form your lips around nicely and long enough to make you strain. 

You take him as far down as you can without gagging and suck all the way back up. The act pulls a pleased little mmm from your chest, like having him in your mouth is quenching some animal thirst. 

Your gaze finds Otoya’s again, lashes fluttering as you take him deeper this time. He’s watching you greedily, eyes a shocking green in the bright light of daytime, even with his hair in his face and his lids heavy. 

Your mouth is getting wetter now, drool gathering around his cock and leaving it shining when you pull back up. Down, up, down — a steady, rhythmic bob of your head that’s quickly getting sloppier and louder. Down again, with your throat as open as you can manage to try and take him to the base, hand coming up to cup his balls as though you may just stuff them into your mouth once you swallow the rest of him — and you gag loudly right before you make it. It’s a lewd, wet sound that leaves you looking pleased when you pull off. Otoya breathes out a curse.

“So good,” he murmurs as he gathers your hair in his hands, holding it away from your face, “You’re so fucking good.”

You’re the cocky one now, the feeling curling around your body and guiding you to… well, put on a show. But it’s not to entertain so much as it’s a compulsion. You just feel so sexy. The sensation pumps through your veins, hot and euphoric, and you continue to feed it with his reactions. You’re good at this; even without the explicit praise you could tell by the squeeze in his voice. The way he hisses through his teeth and his thigh flexes under your palm. 

You know how you must look — on your knees, still fully dressed besides the kitten heels you left by his door. Your eyes sparkling with the tears that have sprung up from your gag reflex. Your cheeks hollowed, lips forming a tight wet ring around his cock, leaving the last hint of your lip gloss on his skin. If your mouth wasn’t full you might just tell him to pull out his phone and take a picture so you can admire the sight too – the way he so clearly is, with your hair in his hands and his gaze fixated on your face. 

Down again, with a loose jaw and hungry determination, and when you feel him hit the back of your throat you push. 

“Holy shit—” 

You pull off with a dramatic intake of breath, replacing your throat with a hand and pumping his length. Pursing your lips, you push out more of the saliva that’s been flooding your mouth and watch it fall onto the head of his cock, dripping and disappearing into the mess. It wets your palm, singing out loud schlick-schlick-schlick sounds with your movements.

Otoya can’t help himself now, so it seems, as he reaches out and swipes his thumb over the shine on your lips. It slips in after a moment and you suck, missing the feeling, your hand still twisting up and down his cock. 

“Pretty little mouth…” his thumb presses down, running along your tongue as you drop your jaw open and stick it out for him, spit dripping from the tip. Nasty, messy. “Fuck, come here—“

He’s kissing you before you’ve even climbed back up, leaning forward and over where you’re still resting on your knees. It’s deep and wet. Hungry. He guides you with one hand on your throat and the other on the back of your head, making you pliant as he licks and sucks and tastes himself on your tongue. So sloppy and shamelessly horny that your attention is drawn back to the sticky throb between your legs. 

In a sudden rush of hands, you end up standing with your bottoms peeled from your skin and thrown off to the side. He kisses over your stomach, your hips. There’s a hunger there that you’re too impatient to feed, instead pushing him back lightly so you can straddle his lap. 

You’re kissing again, getting lost in the rhythm of his mouth on yours. Otoya is a good kisser — so good that if you were anybody else and here for any other reason you’d be suspicious of him. Instead you just moan when he sucks on your tongue, and lift your chin for him when he begins to wander down to bite bruises into your neck. 

It’s a practiced sort of maneuver, you think, to get down towards your chest — one he’s performed so many times that it’s become muscle memory. But you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s carefully pulling your top down under your breasts and finally fitting them into his palms. He squeezes and pushes them together, then greets your hardened nipple with his tongue before enveloping it in his mouth. Your back arches into the heat.

As if just remembering what you came here for, you sit down fully on his lap. You’ve been hovering over him, distracted by his mouth after putting your knees to the cushions, but now you let your weight settle down — and trap his cock right beneath your pussy. 

Immediately, you want to feel some friction. To soothe that desperate ache that’s swelled between your legs. With an assured roll of your hips, you drag your pussy up along the underside of his cock. It slips deliciously against him, wet skin on firm wet skin, and Otoya releases your nipple with a moan, face twisting at the sensation. 

Something sadistic dances on your lips. 

“You’re gonna take responsibility for that,” you pull his attention up with a firm grip on his jaw, your faces so close you can feel him pant, “right?”

You grind back and forth, agonizingly slow, so warm but not warm enough – so wet but he knows it could be wetter. A breath pushes out from his chest, something between a laugh and a pained huff. “Whatever you want, babe.”

His tip catches on your entrance and his breath catches with it, but you change the angle and continue your smooth glide along his length.

You smirk. “Tell me you want it.”

Where you may have reservations about begging to be fucked, Otoya has none. He’d bark and do tricks if it meant you’d put his dick inside you faster.

“I want it.”

“How bad?”

Green eyes flutter closed at the next roll of your hips, satisfaction clear on his features despite the position he’s in – perhaps because of the position he’s in. 

“Really bad.”

The pleasure is already building, desperate and swollen as you drag your clit against him. 

“I’m gonna use you to cum.” You brace a hand on his knee and hook the other around the back of his neck, giving him a delicious view and pulling his head down to appreciate it. Like this, you also have better leverage to really move your hips the way you need. Getting nothing but sweet, mind-numbing friction on your clit that you chase greedily.

And like a perfect, willing toy he lets you. Watches the head of his cock appear and disappear from between your legs, all wrapped up in your slick heat without being fully satisfying. His chest is flushed and heaving, little mms and ahs pushing from it with each breath.

“Gonna use you to cum just like this,” you repeat, voice going tight with pleasure, “and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Otoya has nothing to say to that, no protest or saucy response. He just cups his hands under the fat of your breasts and enjoys the view of you unraveling. 

And unravel you do — quickly. You’ve been sexually frustrated all day and it shows as your body quivers, movements becoming sloppy. His cock is throbbing, so hard it’s pushing up against you with resistance and giving your swollen clit just enough pressure to send you careening towards the edge. You gasp out a little oh and his eyes dart up to your face.

“Yeah? Already?”

Otoya’s hands are back on your hips, forcing you to keep grinding like earlier but now with no clothing to separate you — now with your bare cunt on him, slippery and hot and so, so sensitive. It’s agonizing. You can feel your body chasing and running away from the sensation in equal parts, but he holds you tightly down on him even as your nails begin to dig into his skin. 

“Do it,” he tells you, leaning back into the cushions so he can watch. “Come on, baby. I’m— ah, dying to fuck you. I’ll say please, if that’s what you want.”

You don’t have the chance to take him up on the offer. 

In a flash-bang of pleasure, you throw your head back and cum. Loudly, selfishly. Waves of heat overtake your senses and pour right out of you as your pussy floods itself over his cock. It coats him in fresh arousal, adding even more slip. Otoya keeps you moving, hands pushing and pulling as you ride out your orgasm to oversensitivity, but the added lubrication gives you both what you’ve been dying for — his cock finally slipping into your still-spasming cunt. 

A synchronized groan fills the living room.

There’s only a split second of pause before Otoya is wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down, then burying himself up inside you to the hilt. And your cunt doesn’t resist in the slightest, so wet and ready from your orgasm that it’s practically welcoming him home. Another pause — your entrance stretched around the base of him, your insides squeezing his hard length — and then he begins to move.

His pace is immediately brutal, hips meeting yours in hard, precise smacks, teeth gritting in your ear as he holds you against him. “If you’re gonna use me, you gotta use me completely right?”

The couch creaks with the weight, both arms tight around your waist to keep you steady while his hips snap up into you. Your pussy drools down over his length as it pumps in and out, making it shine in the weakening daylight, giving him all the lube he needs to give you exactly what you came here for — to be fucked. 

Spurred on by the overwhelming pleasure of finally, finally being filled, you begin to bounce on his lap to meet his thrusts. It feels so good, everything you’ve been wanting, his cock spearing you open and reaching up inside you, dragging against your walls and sending euphoria licking up your spine. He fills you up perfectly, something you’ve become accustomed to. Just enough to make your toes curl but not too much to make it hurt. The perfect size to squeeze around and cum on.

And you’re going to — oh god, you’re going to any second now. You’ve given yourself over to the chase at this point, lost to the pump of his cock inside you, shameless in your pursuit of your next orgasm — uncaring of the way he’s suddenly gone still beneath you, his hands death-gripping your waist and his eyes flying open in panic.

“Oh fuck— wait, fuck—“

He pulls you up off of him, hurriedly slipping out of you and reaching around your thigh to squeeze— but he’s too late. Hot cum splatters up onto your ass and lower back. It shoots from his dick in hard spurts, his fist wringing the rest of it out as he makes a whiny sound of defeat. His hips buck a few times, rubbing his tip against the fat of your ass like he can’t help it while the last of his load dribbles out and smears onto your skin. 

Otoya slumps into the couch beneath you, eyes closed and panting. You blink, the initial shock settling, and then you can’t help but snicker. If he’s embarrassed about cumming too fast he doesn’t show it, still the picture of self-assuredness with his cock going soft against your ass. It’s better than tripping over an excuse or needing to be reassured. Plus he’s cute like this, you think, all flushed and boneless.

Feeling your gaze, he peeks up at you with one eye and you card your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Wordlessly, he pulls you down for a kiss soft enough to be mistaken for an apology.

“You wanna go again?” he asks quietly into your mouth, hands already beginning to wander.

You nip at his lower lip. “I don’t wanna break you.”

“I’m resilient.”

“I don’t wanna tire you out before your flight tomorrow.”

His tone goes faux-serious. “My training has prepared me for this.”

You giggle, and it chimes pretty in his ears. Something stirs to life in his stomach that he can’t quite put a name to. Like, if you made that same sound and pushed your tits up against him a bit more he’d very quickly get hard again. Or something like that.

“It’s ok, I still had fun,” you assure him, understanding the unsaid and appreciating the concern for your pleasure. Your cunt is still throbbing dully, deprived of it’s second orgasm but— 

“I really have to go.” 

The explanation stops there. No ‘I have work in the morning’ or ‘I have an appointment’ or even a lame-ass excuse like ‘I think I left the stove on.’ It’s a wide open statement that, for some shadowy reason, makes Otoya shift uneasily.

But if Otoya is good at anything, it’s shrugging off unpleasant feelings. The uneasiness is quickly replaced with an admiration for your exposed skin as you begin to make moves to leave. When you turn around and gesture to the mess of cum glistening on your backside he makes a comment about it being something to remember him by, but ultimately passes you the boxers he’d been wearing to clean it up. (“They’re just going in the laundry anyway.”)

With the cab called and your heels shimmied back onto your feet, you straighten up in his entryway and let him peck you on the lips one last time. 

“Make it up to me next time,” you say with a flirtatious lilt, creating distance between you as you back out the door and turn to leave.

Otoya watches your hips switch as you make your way down the hall and you throw him a look over your shoulder, gaze lingering for a moment before the door shuts behind you.

Next time.

A pleasant feeling washes over him; relief, maybe, mixed with something else — something heavier.

NOTE - ty for getting this far!! just wanted to pop in and say i appreciate you for reading <3 and if you rb and leave me comments then we may just have to get married. ok bye ily

[tinesleftnipple]

JITD Episode 25 (non-final) Script Synopsis

Episode 22

Episode 23

Episode 24

"The Emerging Composition"

LWZ and Pei su in their office. LWZ opens the sealed, top secret file of the Zhu feng case.

Flashback: a crouched figure writing at a desk. Close up to show keywords - killer, history of mental illness, exempt from criminal punishment, victim, rights and interests... Pan yunheng bursts in the door and addresses the figure as "teacher". Pan tells the man that the killer was killed by another patient at the facility, in the same way Zhu feng's husband was killed. The man turns around, looks at Pan yunheng, and asks if he believes that justice is clear and retribution will come.

LWZ texts XHY for him to investigate Zhu feng's husband, Yu bin.

Tao ze and Kong weichen are at Yin ping's house. According to Yin ping, the last time Yin chao contacted them was 8/9 years ago. He stopped sending them money 5/6 years ago when their mother died. At that time, Yin ping followed the address from the money transfer and found Yin chao, but Yin chao refused to return with the excuse of too many enemies in XInzhou.

Tao ze asks Yin ping why he wears gloves at home. Yin ping shows them his burn scars from an accident in the boiler room. Tao ze then asks Yin ping's wife Hou shufen some questions but Yin ping yells at her.

They leave Yin ping's house. Tao ze crosses out the chance that the person they met was Laomeizha; it's unlikely his wife would go unaware for 30 years.

Xiao wu comes back with some old files he found, of Laomeizha's testimony about the fire. When Laomeizha was escaping, he had grabbed onto a metal railing and burned his hands to the extent that his fingerprints were gone. Tao ze orders them to return to find Yin ping immediately, but his wife answers the door. Yin ping left on his motorbike just moments ago.

Tao ze calls LWZ to tell him it wasn't Yin chao (Laomeizha) who testified but Yin ping. The only thing that would have distinguished the twins from each other was their fingerprints, and Yin ping's fingerprints have been burned off. Tao ze asks help tracking down a red motorbike.

Yin ping speeds down the frozen road with police sirens behind him. Flashback: Yin ping peeking through a crack in the window. Yin chao is talking to someone inside. The other person threatens him with either taking the job or having his family killed. Once that person leaves, Yin ping confronts Yin chao. Yin chao tells him he's working with the police, and will find a way to keep them safe.

Tao ze and Xiao wu chase Yin ping through the alleyways. A truck suddenly appears speeding towards Yin ping, but Tao ze's police car slams in between them and takes the full impact. Yin ping is thrown out of his bike.

Flashback: Yin chao telling Yin ping not to worry. He will protect them even if he dies. Yin ping takes an ashtray and smashes it into Yin chao's temple. This image transitions to Yin ping lying on the ground in almost the exact same position as Yin chao years before.

KWC comes to first, crawls out and drags an unconscious Xiao wu out from the backseat. The gas tank is leaking and there is an exposed wire from the truck emitting sparks. KWC wakes Xiao wu while trying to rescue Tao ze and Xiao wu goes to grab Yin ping. KWC finally manages to free Tao ze out from the car but it's too late. He only has time to cover Tao ze with his own body before everything explodes.

LWZ receives a call from Xiao wu. Xiao wu tells him the truck driver that hit them died on the spot. LWZ and Pei su rush to the hospital. KWC is dead. Yin ping survived with a broken leg. Tao ze is in emergency surgery. Pei su pats LWZ's shoulder to calm him down, and reassures him that Tao ze will be fine, but Pei su's hand is trembling too.

LWZ and Pei su sit together in the hallway. Pei su wonders why the organization is in such a rush to get rid of Laomeizha. Everything Laomeizha can testify on, Du guosheng has already told them. They reduce the possibilities of intelligence leak down to 2 people and 1 car. XHY calls and LWZ tells him to investigate XIao wu, KWC, and the car they used today.

LWZ and Pei su sit in silence for a moment. Tao ze is still being operated on. Pei su, to LWZ: if you are sad and need to vent, it's okay, I'm the only one here.

Tang ning arrives and cries. LWZ tells her stories about Tao ze. Tao ze is not a romantic person, but he is attentive in places you might not even notice. A nurse comes out from the room; Tao ze is no longer in critical condition. Xiao wu arrives and tells them Yin ping is awake.

LWZ is about to ask Yin ping about Yin chao when Yin ping suddenly starts convulsing. It's a cerebral hemorrhage and Yin ping needs surgery right away.

In the interrogation room, Lan qiao asks HSF (Yin ping's wife) about Yin ping. For a period of time, Yin ping would have nightmares where he would yell for Yin chao to stop bothering him. They used to have 2 big sophora japonica trees in their backyard that Yin ping was adamant on cutting down. That was the house he was trying to go to today. Yin chao used to live there.

Lan qiao and 2 other police go digging in Yin chao's yard. They find Yin chao's body.

LWZ receives a text from his father: there is something fishy about Huo xiao's case. The investigation team are on it.

Pei su sits down beside LWZ and tells him Yin ping's surgery didn't go very well. They don't know when he will wake up, and the best case scenario is he won't be able to speak clearly. At worst he won't recover normal brain functioning. LWZ is livid. Pei su calms him down by saying they can look for other evidence. LWZ says he's become a lone commander, and Pei su reminds LWZ that he is still here.

XHY and Lan qiao arrive to meet LWZ and Pei su at the hospital. XHY goes into detail about KWC's history: KWC used to work under Du ju. What's more, when they were on their way back to Yin ping's house, KWC received a call from Du ju. Xiao wu confirmed that KWC was on the phone, and at the time KWC had told them he was reporting to higher ups about the situation. Lan qiao is upset at the notion that the mole in their team is Du ju.

Pei su speaks up. There is no direct cause and effect relationship between KWC and Du ju's call, and whether it was the call that caused the info leak in their mission. XHY reports that they are still analyzing the police car that they used that day. However, almost the entire team used it recently. If it's something in the car, the whole team is suspicious.

XHY goes to visit Tao ze. LWZ tells Lan qiao to keep watch on Yin ping, and tells her to register to bring a gun with her. LWZ sighs, and Pei su pats his shoulder. They sit together in silence. After a while, LWZ brings up Du ju. Pei su asks him what kind of person Du ju is. LWZ tells him the scar on Du ju's face is from a convict he caught. Pei su comforts him by saying they can often see the behavior but not motive of people. He's known Du ju for years and knows what kind of person he is. Why should he be fazed by an action that they don't know the motive of?

Pei su tells LWZ he's the type to trust others easily, because he grew up in the light, and finds it hard to accept people around him betraying him. Unlike Pei su himself, who is used to it...

Pei su pats LWZ's hand and LWZ asks why his hand is so cold. Pei su changes the subject and says it feels like the evidence they found on KWC and Du ju seem planned. LWZ continues the thought: planned, to make the team question each other, followed by key witnesses dying, then evidence laid out for the police to find, just like Huo xiao's case. Pei su replies they should start with the evidence they currently have. Everything that happens will leave a trace - as LWZ once told him. LWZ smacks him and wonders why Pei su is still holding that grudge. Pei su smiles at him.

Pei su suggests starting from the beginning - from He zongyi's case. The publicity of that case appeared strange.

Pei su and LWZ in LWZ's study. LWZ begins recounting events of He zongyi's case. LWZ throws out the question: why was Chen zhen at Hong fu da guan, and why did they have to kill him when LWZ arrived? They deduce it was the Reciters who killed Chen zhen. There's also the front desk who LWZ a room with a window he could escape from, and the mysterious person who texted He zongyi the "Golden triangle" location - the text that led to ZHC killing He zongyi.

The second case: who told Su ruowan and guided her to reenact her mother's signature pencil case phone call?

Third is the Zhou family case. ZKF used ZHJ's name to contact Dong xian, killing ZJH, which makes sense. But Dong xiaoqing receiving the killing contract and in turn attempting to kill ZHJ, then getting murdered doesn't seem like ZKF's doing. Pei su adds that from a motive standpoint, ZKF is suspicious of wanting ZHJ dead, but the method is not his style. The mysterious delivery man who sent XHY a text from Dong xiao qing's phone, the person who set fire to her apartment, and even the people who hired and then killed Wang li (Dong xiaoqing's murderer) must all belong to the Reciters. LWZ adds these may or may not be one person.

Onto Feng bin's case, there is A13, who planned the entire case. WWX confessed he didn't want to kill Feng bin, only to beat him up. But A13 told Du guosheng to kill Feng bin, and left XXN and Du guosheng as evidence for the police. There is also the fake security guard at Longyuncheng, who edited the security cam footage twice to lead police to find Du guosheng there. Then, there is Zhu feng. Pei su points out a common point between these people: waiter, security guard, janitor, delivery man... a group of people you would let your guard down for.

Pei su points out the initial Zero Degree project is probably their closest lead to the truth. All the people involved may be chess pieces somehow related to the project. Pei su tells LWZ he has another thread that might have an update soon. LWZ grabs onto his nape to force Pei su to look into his eyes, and asks what else Pei su is keeping a secret from him. Pei su replies he's not keeping it a secret, he just hasn't found the time to tell him. LWZ: it's not like you're a girl confessing to her crush, what's the difference between telling me today and telling me tomorrow? Why do you always do this...

Pei su begins coughing and LWZ is worried and berates him for not wearing long underwear. Pei su coughs uncontrollably. LWZ realizes something and feels his forehead - Pei su is burning up.

[razreads]

Retribution and justice are merely cousins.

Erin Bowman, Retribution Rails

[lemotmo]

https://www.tumblr.com/lemotmo/781381724115550208/also-coming-in-again-with-the-hulu-stats-i-know

I can’t speak for everyone because I know there are some upset people right now seeing the lower railings and happy because they want the show canceled as retribution

A lot of us that are “happy” about the ding in the ratings don’t. But Tim and his ego need to be checked. Severely. The man was literally declaring himself a god after the episode. And sorry but at that point you need a reality check. And the best way to do that ? The ratings. Because Tim might say he’s not paying attention to them or the fans or the audience and their complaints all he wants, but the network is. And 911 is not cheap. Good ratings make it worth it. Bad ratings show somethings not working. Especially when the show goes from number 1 weekly to not even hitting top 5.

So yeah we don’t want it canceled but a ding big enough for the network to step in and put Tim in place despite whatever temper tantrum he’s having (which let’s be real. He’s prone to do. He’s admitted it himself. And this is all very much screaming he’s having a tantrum) and get the storylines back on track and the characters back in focus. If it gets them to make him sit down and actually plan his season out so the characters aren’t just spinning in circles, start one storyline and then suddenly vanish for a month in the middle of it because he’s gotten distracted by a shiny new side character? Bring that on by all means.

Oh I agree with you that it's important that the ratings reflect what the audience's opinion is. It's obvious that the episode's live ratings were really bad. There is no denying that.

And this wasn't even about Bobby dying, because we didn't know that yet. This was about the lack of Eddie in 8x14 and the fact that, overall, it wasn't that good of an episode. People were rightfully upset that Eddie got sidelined again.

I'm certain that this was a very clear sign towards ABC and Tim that something needs to change here. I'm in total agreement.

But I also still want this show to stay on for at least a few more seasons. So the fact that it isn't doing all that bad on Hulu still makes me happy. That doesn't take away that the live rating sucked.

I'm pretty sure that ABC indulged Tim in this 'Bobby dying' PR stunt of his, because they trusted him. These ratings have proven that he isn't always 'right', so I do expect them to have a talk with him about their and his expectations for season 9.

[nyaagolor]

What are your thoughts on Apollo Justice (the character)?

OH BOY. OHHHHHH BOY. I have a fever and some free time lfg.

So honestly, I think part of the reason I love Apollo so much is because he runs parallel to Phoenix but also counter to him at the same time. I always saw Simon and Athena as the successors-- in terms of ideology and job and all that other stuff-- to the Phoenix-Edgeworth dynamic and status rather than Apollo and Klavier. Athena and Simon, to me, feel like extensions of the arcs of Phoenix and Edgeworth + the vibes of the original trilogy. Apollo and Klavier ( who I will not talk about bc we will be here all day)? They're the antithesis.

Apollo Justice The Game directly foils the original trilogy in so many ways, but I think even on a more base thematic level it runs counter to a lot of the ideas that we take for granted about the original trilogy, and because Apollo sits at the center of this, the things I love about the game are encapsulated in why I like him. There are a ton of themes in the ace attorney trilogy-- support networks, faith, trust, the truth-- and Apollo is defined by their limits, their failures, and their absence. He is let down, kicked around, defined by abandonment and betrayal and distrust. Apollo is defined by everything that Phoenix is not, and bc of how the timeline goes we don't really get any retribution for that, just a steady march forward, and I think that gives me a lot to think about with his character

Phoenix's arc right from Turnabout Sisters is about the building of a support network, and the ways that developing this support is integral for when things go wrong. We contrast Phoenix with Godot, Maya with Dahlia, and see how people left to stew in their resentment can chase vengeance to dark places (wow I wonder who also does this after the death of a dear friend leading to a crusade of misplaced revenge that almost leads someone they care about being killed.). With Apollo we get to stand on the precipice of resolution, but the important part is we don't get it. Apollo's life falls off the rails, and he's the one left to pick up the pieces.

We see through him how our trust can be betrayed by people of good and bad intentions, and the lingering consequences that has on one's ability to not only trust the people around them but themselves. And yeah!! That's why I adore him so much-- he's tested not by the possibility of failure like Phoenix often is, but climbing up from the reality of it. It's less "how do we make our way out of this mess before it goes nuclear" and more "things are already destroyed-- where do we go from here?". It has more of an element of recovery than prevention to me, and I think that's a fascinating avenue to explore in stories like these. Apollo pushes the envelope of the themes of the narrative and the characters-- he is the epitome of what it looks like when things fall apart, and it gives him and the trilogy characters something to reconcile

A lot of people have complained that Apollo barely feels like the protagonist in his own game, but that's honestly a huge part of the reason why I love him so much. He's defined by the spaces between, the limits and failures of things we had up to this point taken to be true, and left with a pretty limited degree of autonomy through it all. He's pushed around and puppeteered by people who mean well and those who don't, and I feel like a major theme of AA4 that I love but don't often see talked about is "what does it mean to have autonomy-- and by extension, control? What does it mean to take it back? What does it mean to lose it, and what does it mean when you'd do anything to keep it." Most of what I said is only partially resolved bc AA4 is... a game. A technically finished game. but!! Because it eviscerates our expectations of the franchise so thoroughly AND leaves open so many avenues, it makes Apollo and the rest of his crew some of my favorite characters because there's so much you can think about and do with them!!

also he's like. An insect to me. <3

[georgies-ftts]

love a cheeky poll so i thought I’d do one for the buddie angsty/happy ending fic i’m thinking of writing once i get past my very rational fear of public retribution on twitter 😌

(all of these are getting together/love confession fics!!!)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Madeline Peltz at MMFA:

Heritage Foundation President Kevin Roberts’ book will be published after the November elections, according to a report from Real Clear Politics. This comes after backlash against the Heritage-led initiative Project 2025, which aims to provide policy and personnel to the next Republican presidential administration and is backed by an advisory board of more than 100 conservative groups. Project 2025 has deep ties to former President Donald Trump and his running mate Sen. JD Vance (R-OH). Vance wrote the foreword to the now-delayed Dawn’s Early Light: Taking Back Washington to Save America, calling Roberts’ ideas an “essential weapon” in the “fights that lay ahead.”

The effort to hide the ball is futile, as Media Matters has obtained a galley copy of the book. A review found Roberts rails against birth control, in vitro fertilization, abortion, and dog parks. He says that having children should not be considered an “optional individual choice” but “a social expectation or a transcendent gift,” and describes “contraceptive technologies” as “revolutionary inventions that shape American culture away from abundance, marriage, and family.” He labels reproductive choice methods as a “snake strangling the American family.”

[...]

The publication delay reflects a political crisis in the MAGA movement, as the worldview outlined by Roberts and Vance in Dawn’s Early Light has proven to be deeply unpopular with the public. Trump has attempted to distance himself from Heritage and Project 2025, especially after Kevin Roberts appeared on Steve Bannon’s War Room podcast and declared that “we are in the process of the second American Revolution, which will remain bloodless if the left allows it to be."

But as the Trump campaign has deliberately refused to provide a detailed policy platform, instead putting forth only a barebones platform both on his campaign site and through the Republican National Committee, Project 2025 has effectively filled in the blanks of what a second Trump term might look like. The initiative includes a more than 900-page policy book titled Mandate for Leadership: The Conservative Promise, which outlines extreme positions on virtually every major political issue and includes plans to restrict abortion access, eviscerate tools to fight climate change, and turn the Department of Justice into an unaccountable weapon for Trump to enact his retribution agenda against political enemies, among others. An analysis by CNN found “nearly 240 people with ties to both Project 2025 and to Trump,” and many of its authors and contributors worked directly in his administration. Project 2025 has also recently attempted to downplay its own significance after years of aggrandizement. Trump administration alum Paul Dans recently resigned from his position as president of Project 2025, and now Roberts’ book is delayed. But it’s proving impossible to wash Project 2025’s stench off the campaign.

The publication of Project 2025 lead organization Heritage Foundation President Kevin Roberts’s Dawn’s Early Light: Taking Back Washington To Save America book has been pushed back to after the elections.

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Elena goes to NOLA and Elijah learns the truth about the Salvatores and their creepy obsession with her (for the ‘i wish you would write a fic where’ prompt) 👀

Bonus points for hurt/comfort and feral Elijah (because I know that you know that I know that you love both these tropes)

(hurt/comfort, feral elijah— who me? Lol jk. You got me. This is ballooning out of control so expect a full one shot in the near future but here's a little sneak peek 😉)

-----

Elijah doesn't believe in ghosts. A strange stance for a vampire with a millennia under his belt, stranger still for one who has dallied with witches and dispatched his fair share of werewolves.

He prides himself on being a reasonable man and as such, concedes to the possibility that there are phenomena that defy belief. Perhaps vestiges of the departed may linger, imprints of energy left behind after living things shuffle off this mortal coil. Harmless, unable to reason or to touch. Because if they could, there would be a line outside the door seeking retribution against him and his siblings.

No, Elijah doesn't believe in ghosts. Not the type that takes on a familiar face and calls him by his name.

Until he steps out onto the balcony and sees Elena Gilbert standing there in the center of the courtyard.

She has to be dead, and apparition sent to haunt him, to punish him for his cruelty and his hypocrisy because there’s no logical reason she should be here, arms crossed over her chest uncertaintly.

But he hears her heartbeat, catches the rise and fall of her chest, and knows she's real. Alive–at least in a sense.

She doesn't see him at first, lost in thought and worrying at her bottom lip. He seizes the chance to observe her, to focus his thoughts—scattered to the wind in his confusion.

Long-legged. Dark eyed. Coy and innocent all at once. Like the other women who have worn that face. Like the other women he'd once loved and destroyed.

Despite this connection, he recognizes her at once. Just as he had when they'd kissed in Pennsylvania—as he always does.

It surprises him, the way she can look so much like she had the day he'd left Mystic Falls and yet be so transformed at the same time. It goes beyond the curl to her hair, the bold cut of her clothes.

There's a stillness to her that wasn't there before. The lines of her silhouette are hard. Not like stone, but in the way of a bending reed seconds before it breaks.

He grips the railing, grounding himself. “Elena?”

His voice echoes off the stucco walls and he watches her jump, eyes feverish as they flit about the room and then land directly on him, going wide.

[carionto]

Steady as she goes, nature has finally caught up

War.

A seemingly inescapable aspect of any civilization. Perhaps even a prerequisite for it.

It was as sudden as it was inevitable. The United Federation utilized certain ideas introduced and executed by Humanity to their logical continuation. Their horrendous Battle Moon - an actual, small moon converted into a semi-moveable, heavily shielded, and maximally armed military installation, with a military-civilian population in the hundreds of thousands.

They used it as a torpedo.

Knowing that the Death Kebab was directly inspired by their own creation, itself a product of fear and need for control, the Federation strapped a few massive hyperdrives instead of the much easier to produce several hundred standard-sized ones to ease the computational synchronization, and using the Hyperbreak technique, they jumped into the middle of Death Kebab's main rail gun. An impressive feat of precision.

Almost as impressive as the ensuing destruction.

How do you even relay when the mass of an entire planetoid suddenly appears in the middle of three slightly larger moons strapped together? The grotesque expansion from within, quickly followed by massive cracks in the crust, an expulsion of the mantle and finally, the explosions.

One faulty first generation Human True Fusion Reactor from 700 years ago created a 200km massive hole in the Earth. Only one of the moons reached that in diameter.

These were hundreds of military grade reactors powering a gun that can obliterate small planets in one shot.

Seven failed to engage their failsafes in time.

There was nothing left.

Nothing, but a cloud of searing ash where four moons and hundreds of ships and thousands of crew used to be.

Humanity was thrust into war.

And they looked excited.

Of course, they mourned the dead, and were rightfully enraged, but there was a glint in the Grand Admiral's eye.

"The Federation really surprised us here. Fooled our intelligence operatives outright. We were not expecting them to act for at least another year, certainly not sacrifice their precious Battle Moon.

Now, we knew they'd target the Death Kebab sooner or later. Truth be told, that's partly why it was built. Sure, it was a fine strategic asset, far from our most important ones though, but as a symbolic one it was priceless. Biggest weapon in the known Galaxy! Who wouldn't be tempted by the glory of taking it down.

I say let them. They want to rule through fear and power, and Humanity, or "upstarts" as they call us behind closed doors, provided a perfect boogeyman to scare the masses into obedience. We have our own history with regimes like that. Personally, not a fan.

The Federation is large, powerful, foreign, and far from Earth, but, well, my ancestors were never stopped by such things. In fact, expansion at great risk is what we're great at.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Retribution Fleet to assemble."