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evilminji · 17 days

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Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?

And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!

Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???

JUST SOME DUDE™!

Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?

On the SURFACE!

This place seems utopian!

No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!

Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!

Cause see?

There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?

Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)

Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.

Through the Zone.

Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.

They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?

And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!

If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.

No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.

Just? Imagine~☆

The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"

Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.

He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.

They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏

I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.

As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.

I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.

He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.

And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.

Either, Or.

I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.

There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!

@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dpxbnha #dp x bnha #dp x mha #dpxmha #minji's writing #dp prompt #dp x bnha prompt

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7amaspayrollmanager · 2 months

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I think the funniest thing is when an Israeli gets an anon telling them they don't know how bad life is under occupation and then they're so insecure they write the most dramatic response about "well you don't know what it's like to have missiles over your head" forgetting that there are much more powerful missiles killing thousands of palestinians in Gaza now and that's the reason missiles are flying over their head. But where is this audacity coming from like your life is not perpetually disrupted. The trauma of going to a bomb shelter is not the trauma of being in a refugee tent and the threat of dying in that tent equally possible from a missile from tank shelling from disease from starvation. In the WB, the occupation is so bad that israeli surveillance is able to extrajudicially drone palestinians in jenin. That sure is not something that could happen to you and completely missing the point that they are a citizen of a state that is holding an occupation over other people and as a result you live a life that is only possible because of palestinian repression. So this occupation means you. Are. The. Ones holding the strings. You hold the power you can't blame palestinian "terror attacks," preventing the end of occupation when your governance can end the occupation At Any Moment and intentionally keeps the occupation to facilitate land grabs and keep palestinians repressed on purpose which disrupts the "peace process." Your infinite access to water? That's because post Oslo the so called water distribution fell completely under the authority of israelis and we get less than 20%. Again you can touch any topic and you can find out the power dynamics very quickly like why act stupid

In 1995, under the Oslo II Accord, division of water sources was designated as an issue for “final status negotiations” – a device used by Israel to continue illegal appropriation of Palestinian water resources from 1995 until the present (the “final status negotiations” of Oslo have never been reached). A Palestinian Water Authority (PWA) was set up, but Israel maintained control of the total flow and volume of water to the OPT (Occupied Palestinian Territories While the PWA has no ability to manage water resources and just allocates the limited supply made available by Israel, the PWA, rather than the Occupation, is blamed for water scarcity. Moreover, the Oslo II agreement does not call for redistribution of existing water sources nor require any reduction in water extraction or consumption by Israelis or settlers.”

- Palestine Water Fact Sheet #1 - Center for Economic and Social Rights

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hotchfiles · 2 months

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hotch "representing the bau" hotchner x activist!reader who won't stand for bullshit

not like actual conflict cause we know hotch is a very principled guy

more like

"shit i can't shitpost about overthrowing the government anymore cause my boyfriend is the government" vibes

you have no idea how deeply i feel about this i've actually posted about this because i'm very much against all cops and he's a literal fed ! but

You met in the most conventional of ways, which makes the whole thing even funnier to the outside person. A bar. You noticed him the moment he walked in, too downright gorgeous to be ignored, you stare at him completely shamelessly and get a few shy awkward smiles in return while he sips on his first drink and talks to his companion, who you later learned was Rossi.

He will find it later on that you're not really up for games, but it takes him by surprise when you approach him, card in hand with your phone number and the red stain of your red lips on the other side. He's immediately smitten, being flirted with so openly at his age does wonders for his ego and he makes sure to text you as soon as he gets back to his apartment.

The texting back and forth goes for hours, a lot of flirting, you're much more outspoken than he is, but still you find him hilarious, you will be telling your friends he's the funny one between you two (none of them will believe you, but you like having this only to yourself as well).

You talk movies, plays, music, favorite drinks and by 2AM he asks you on a date. It’s perfect from the get go. He's flattering, compliments your choice of clothes, says he likes the lipstick (the same you used on the card he is keeping safe on his wallet), takes you to a nice restaurant.

You tell him since you made the very first move, he would have to be the one to kiss you, he argues he sent you the first text so you should be the one to do it, in the end none of you know who took the first move, you're just sure you were the one to unlock your apartment door, stumbling along with him as you two passionately kissed.

It's not common for this to happen for him, he's too much of a gentleman, sleeping with someone on the first date isn't the gentlemanly thing to do, you're not attached to those norms so even if he tried to argue, your lips glued to his neck as you worked on his belt took his mind off of it.

It's not until the next morning that he really notices your place: The types of books you had, some revolutionary art pieces and it's then he realizes he has no idea what you do for a living. Neither did he tell you he was a FBI agent. You two talked long hours and career wasn't even a topic (that may be why you caught his heart so fast).

You were a journalist, a writer, quite proficient and known for your progressive ideals and less than civil protests, so when you both realize the differences and the conflict it might bring, the first instinct was to pull away. Forget the whole thing. It was only one date after all.

It's a matter of days for the realization that being apart won't happen, your thoughts are filled with him and his voice and the way he touched you and Aaron can possibly detail every curve of your body and the way you smelled as if he was still in bed with you.

There's a mutual agreement of public discretion, you can't have your readers knowing you're falling for a fed, nor does the media needs any more reasons to write about the FBI.

His team knows though, and so does Strauss, she had to be warned of the possibility of your name popping up in some lists. She reads half of your writings after that, highlighting stuff you should not be writing about (you won't listen to her on it) and the compromise you make is to keep all of your opposition material completely professional, no tweets, no tiktoks, nothing of the sort with jokes about overthrowing the government.

"Did you... Did you just cite and use one of Stalin's books as a resource here?" He asks, he's in your bed, blue boxer shorts and white t-shirt on, completely comfortable with you already, his reading glasses sit on top of his nose like an old man and he furrows his brows, looking up at you. Aaron's interested in what you write, he truly reads whatever you hand him just to learn more about you, he's not the one to try to censure any of it.

"Well yeah... His writings are the easiest to comprehend on the topic." You shrug, not understanding the tone of his question at first.

"Honey... You can't just... Do you know how many... Forget it. Your editor will love it." His poor attempts to talk you down failing each time he looked over and saw your expectant eyes as his opinion is important to you. You smile at his defeat, taking the papers from his hand and throwing somewhere else in the room, his glasses go to the bedside table and soon you're kissing any of his worries away.

#lari writes sometimes #THIS GOT TO ME OKAY #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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a-very-tired-jew · 22 days

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Conversations with a younger colleague about I/P conflict

In my department there is a grad student who is friendly with myself and a few others of the openly nerdy ecologists. We actively talk about anime, video games, TTRPGs, etc... We've also all collaborated on research together because we generally study the same thing, and being a grad student we are also letting them helm their own research to carve their own path. The research topic that links all of us is decomposition ecology.

Meaning, we study death, how it effects the environment, and all the things having to do with it. Often we have our own terms that we define and use, but we also work within the framework of various medical and legal definitions nationally and internationally. Recently this student has been talking to me about the I/P conflict because it has dominated their social media feed. Like many young adults, this is their first I/P conflict and their first exposure to anything regarding that region. As such, they have come to me to talk about things knowing that I am Jewish. Not out of maliciousness, but because I am the only person they talk to that has any sort of connection to it. Over these past months they have repeated the "genocide/Holocaust" rhetoric that we have seen Western Activists use to make the conflict the Worst Thing Ever. Our conversation went as follows: GS: I can't believe they're committing a Holocaust on them after what they went through. Me: How is it a Holocaust? GS: They're committing a genocide against the Palestinians. Me: They're not doing either one, but let's touch upon the first thing you said. How? GS: They're killing them in large numbers! Me: Oh...oh...that's not what made the Holocaust the Holocaust, you know that right? It was years of systematic dehumanization that culminated in what we know. There were death camps, torture, experimentation, and so much more than simple "killing in large numbers". GS: Damn public school education... Me: You didn't really go over it too much did you? GS: WWII was, like, a week I want to say. Me: *sigh* yeah, not surprised at all. GS: Okay, so a genocide then? Me: GS, what do we study? GS: Decomp Me: and that involves? GS: Death Me: One avenue of which is mass casualty events which a number of our friends have published on. GS: Yeah! I read those papers, they were really good. Me: They were, but do you remember conversations we had about them and what differentiates mass casualty events from one another? GS: Cause? Me: And...? GS: Shit. Intent. Me: Exactly. Has their been an official stated intent to commit any genocide? I mean, you've got the bigots in the government like Ben Givir and the shit they say, I'll give you that. But has the official stance been genocidal? GS: No. I don't think so. Me: What has it been? GS: To get the hostages back and get rid of Hamas. Me: Uh huh, and what has been Hamas's stated intent? GS: To kill Zionists. Me: And before 2017 when they changed the wording in their charter? GS: ah fuck...it's Jews isn't it? Me: Ding ding ding. GS: So that's why no one in the group has said it's a genocide... Me: Correct. Humanitarian crisis brought about by war? Yes. Mass casualty event? Certainly. But genocide? Well, there's a reason no one in our circle has endorsed the term. And remember, we're considered experts on death. GS: I got puppeted didn't I? Me: Yep. GS: Shit. The only reason this went so well is due to our friendship and mentor/mentee dynamic. They already trust me to not lead them astray, be informed, and address the holes in their knowledge. Hell, they help me be a better scientist as well with how they bring in new and novel techniques that I didn't know. But they're still getting a lot of their info from TikTok and IG, and they've talked about a lot of BS from those two particular apps these past few years. This is just the latest (they had a TikTok induced anti-GMO trend for a while, it was bad).

#jumblr #misinformation #I/P misinformation #Correct terminology #Death experts #Seriously - we have a precise definition for genocide and this ain't it

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lilpomelito · 10 months

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“What's wrong with Pop music?”

Eddie stops mid rant and spins around. Steve is sitting upside down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, his silky hair touching the floor.

“I mean,” Steve continues, his voice a little strained by his position, “if so many people like it, there has to be something good about it, right?”

Eddie shares a look with Jonathan, hoping to find an ally, but the man looks zonked out of his mind. Argyle really brought the good shit with him.

“That's not the point, Stevie,” Eddie explains as he sits down on the floor next to the guy's head. “It's popular because it's the only shit the big corpos are pushing on the radio. It's what everyone listens to, so everyone thinks they have to like it to be liked. To be accepted. And it's not even good music! Where's the artistic merit in cheap studio synthesizers mixed with braindead lyrics like wake me up before you go go?"”

Steve frowns. “Not all popular music is like that. Also what's wrong with wanting to be liked?”

“Do you not like Freddie Mercury?” Robin gasps, lifting her head from Steve's stomach, and she sounds heavily offended.

Eddie blinks for second, confused as to where the conversation has suddenly turned. But Steve nods, apparently following her line of reasoning.

“Yeah, man. Queen is like, the most popular band in history. Do they not have artistic merit?”

“No, of course not, that's not what I–”

“And the government is not conspiring to push pop music, Eddie, we've seen they're too busy experimenting on children and opening portals to a parallel dimension,” Robin says.

“What about Bowie?” Steve says. “You loved Labyrinth. Didn't shut up about it for like a week. He's pop!”

“The point,” Eddie insists, flustered, avoiding to watch directly Steve's upside down smirk, “is forced conformity. Queen are all nerds! Bowie is a huge nerd. Where would they be now if they had played high school football?”

Jonathan nods slowly, but doesn't comment.

“What about astronauts?” Nancy asks, from where she's sitting at Johnathan's feet. “They're nerds, yes, but they also have to be in great physical shape. I bet most of them were athletes in school.”

“Yeah, totally!” Steve nods. “Remember Casey Johnson? He was captain of the basketball team when I was a freshman. He was valedictorian, and I think he went to Standford on a sports scholarship!”

“Yeah, I remember him,” Robin says, rolling her eyes. “One of my friends had a huuuuge crush on him.”

Steve's cheeks go red. He incorporates himself, despite Robin's protests, and sits on the couch like a normal person.

“Whatever. He was a nerd and an athlete. What's conformist about that?”

Eddie stares at him, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing, I guess. Or everything. He succeeded at academia, which was designed to shape kids into exploitable workers under capitalism—”

Jonathan groans behind him.

“—and made captain in a sport that's basically throwing balls into laundry baskets and calling it strategy. Praising people for that to the point where schools are giving scholarships is a little too much.”

“You try it, then, man,” Argyle calls from where he's laying on the rug, star shape style. “I bet you ten bucks you can't win at throwing laundry into baskets against Steve. Or my boy Lucas.”

Robin laughs maniacally. “Oh, I want to see that! Steve please destroy him, his ego needs a little humbling.”

The conversation moves on after that, since everybody looks like they're already over Eddie's rant. He doesn't mind, really. It's fun to ramp up the dramatic indignation against The Man, or whatever. It always causes a reaction, and even people who agree with him somewhat eventually hit a limit. Eddie likes to stick his finger and find that limit.

But not Steve. He's looking at Eddie like he's fascinating.

“You're a hypocrite.”

Eddie falters, biting down a smirk. “How come?”

Steve scoots a little closer. “You want to be a rockstar. You don't just want to live off making music. You want to be famous. You want people to like you.”

Eddie stares at him for a second, frozen in place.

“That's not—”

But Steve smiles, gentle. “That's alright. We all do. And you want to know a secret about being popular?”

Eddie can't resist. For all he protests about popularity and conformity and being so normal everybody likes you, he does wonder what it feels like to be on the other side. So he nods.

Steve smiles sadly. “It doesn't actually change anything. You think it means more people like you, but it just means more people are aware of you. What you do, what you say. Who are your friends, who you date. Where you go, when you go there. And at some point you feel like you can't escape it. And yeah, you do start to conform to the norm. Not because you think it's what's best but because you're so aware of people's opinions of you that you always choose the path of least resistance.”

Eddie... has never considered that. He moves a little closer to Steve as his voice goes quiet.

“You think it was fun to run into a random suburban mom in the grocery store and have her be furious at me because I was dating Susan Davis? Who apparently was her daughter's cousin, and she had a crush on me, and was planning on asking me to prom? How on earth was I supposed to know that? And she was double mad that I didn't even know who her daughter was. Like there's two hundred kids in Hawkins High. I can't know everyone!”

Eddie tries not to laugh, because Steve seems upset by this, but the situation is kind of ridiculous.

“And I think they got into their heads that because they knew of me I was supposed to also know them. But they didn't actually know me. I made prom King, people were mad. I was captain of the basketball team, people were mad. I then turned down being captain of the swim team and was just co-captain, people were still mad. I took a job, and people made fun of me. I lost that job because the mall caught on fire, people also made fun of me. I took another job, and people say I'm "wasting my potential", whatever that means. I don't know man. I think you can never win with people.”

Eddie grabs Steve's hand, touching softly his palm. It seems to work, and Steve relaxes a tiny bit under his touch.

What Steve said sounded exactly like what Eddie was talking about: the pressure to be what society wants, not what you want. He can tell it's a touchy subject for Steve, who has been under the crushing spotlight of being a relatively small town's golden boy.

So Eddie doesn't push any further.

“You got me there, though,” he says.

Steve smiles again. “Yeah?”

“Yeap,” Eddie nods. “I do want to be a famous rockstar. I do want to be known and liked and admired. I've never had that. But I guess you're right. We can't have it both ways.”

Robin, who up to that point had been discussing with Argyle the difference between an oboe and a clarinet, jumps in. “It's the horrifying ordeal of being known.”

Steve laughs. Eddie can't help it, his laugh is too contagious. He can't understand how people in this hellscape of a town ever looked at this boy and thought "he's not enough." With him? He gets it. Eddie's list of failures is a mile long. But Stevie? Sunshine incarnate, puppy-eyed, bitchy beautiful and smart Steve Harrington? There's nothing to complain about.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #Jonathan byers #argyle #the fruity four #my fics #mine

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mothlover69 · 14 days

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Was having some thoughts and meant to just write a silly little post but it got away from me so.. here's a (unedited) thing with older!Leon aka the hottest Leon

Leon wants a pretty young thing that he can spoil and take care of and make them feel soooooo good.

Leon feels guilty about wanting a pretty young thing. He's in his 40s, if he gave in to what he wants he's worried he'd be corrupting them, ruining them, taking away their chance at a normal romance with someone their own age. After all, with what happened in Raccoon City, and with the way he was forced to play agent, his own chance at a normal life was taken from him. He likes to think he's a good, respectful man, and he would hate to do that to someone else.

(Nevermind that comparing being in a relationship with him with being the government's dog is asinine)

Leon meets you, and you are young, beautiful, with eyes that he keeps finding himself lost in. The way you talk, the way you say his name... everything about you draws him in. You're everything he's wanted. Everything that he's stayed up late at night fantasizing about.

He doesn't pursue you. He tells himself it would be wrong. But now his daydreams have a face- your face. He begins to see you everywhere he looks. He begins hoping that he'll bump into you while he's out and about. You're haunting him.

He doesn't pursue you, but when he sees you out in public, he makes time to talk to you. He doesn't pursue you, but he gives you his number and tells you that you can contact him anytime for any reason. He doesn't pursue you, but he buys you a coffee and compliments your top that hugs your figure so nicely.

...he tries to tell himself that he's not pursuing, that these are all things he'd do for any of his few friends.

But then one day you text him, ask him to come over and help you move a piece of furniture, and he tells himself he's just helping out a friend even as he carefully selects a pair of jeans that hang low on his hips and the tight, black shirt he caught you eyeing the last time he wore it. He oh so carefully does his eyeliner, brushes his hair, spritzes his favorite cologne. Had it been anyone else, he'd've thrown on some sweats and not even bothered to look in the mirror. But it's you, and he's just helping you with a favor, but is it so wrong if he'd like for you to enjoy looking at him?

And then he's in your house after you welcome him in with a friendly smile that makes his stomach tighten and he helps you with whatever you need and he can't stop thinking about how he's alone with you. And you're wearing an outfit that makes his hands ache withe the desire to touch you. But he's a good, respectful man, and he will control himself. Until he goes to leave and you place a hand on his arm and ask if he'll stay for dinner. You look at him with hopeful eyes, biting your lip, and he crumbles. How could he possibly say no, even as he tells himself to let you down easy so you can find someone better than him?

Silly Leon. Doesn't realize there is no one better than him. That you've wanted him just as badly if not moreso and damn it, if he doesn't make a move soon, then you will. And the moment you do, his self control evaporates like morning dew on a hot summer's day, and he gives in to every desire. And he vows that he will give you the best life possible, the life you deserve.

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #my writing #i guess it counts lmao #i Could expand and turn this into a proper fic #if someone wanted me to

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sanjoongie · 14 days

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ᵢ wᵢₗₗ cₒₙₛᵤₘₑ yₒᵤ

🌺Second Submission for The Language of Flowers event held by @cultofdionysusnet

🌺Prompt Chosen: Endelweiss {courage, power}

🌺Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader (f)

🌺Genre: smut

🌺Trope: strangers to lovers

🌺Au: modern gods au, immortal au, dystopian au, priestess au

🌺Rating: 18+, MDNI

🌺Warnings: contains dark themes of sacrifice for the greater good, religious tones, suppression of the public by the government, execution speak, death Kinks>>> orgasm untouched, magic fingering, overstim, consensual ownership, dom! hyunjin, sub! reader, penetrative sex with no barrier, pull out method (glowing god cum!), breast play, biting, dacryphilia, aftercare

🌺Word Count: 3,878

🌺Summary: When a horrid government decides the only way to deal with you is to make you a priestess of a dark god, 'a great honor', when actuality is a death sentence, you put on your bravest face and go head to head with the horror of your fate. But when it turns out not everything is as it seems to be, just perhaps you could be in charge of your fate... if you survive, of course

🌺Author's Note: originally i had this entire story planned out for mingi and a slavic spring celebration and it was gonna be epic, but @anyamaris and Hyunjin hijacked my creative processes but i'm not complaining 😆 thank you once again for inspiring me anya 💞 love me some good god aus

🌺divider by @cafekitsune

"But what do we do with her?"

Bruised, battered and beaten, you kneel prostrate before a bench of dark faces. Men and women in charge of your life, who you've never met.

"She can't go unpunished," another supplies.

"But if we reveal to the public what she has done..."

The silence is palpable. How does one publicly punish a citizen and not make them a martyr for their cause? They were in a predicament.

One dry, old voice speaks up. "There is one option... he has an opening for a priestess."

This silence is sharp now, razor edged and worrisome.

"A Bride... yes... that would suffice..."

You'd have asked questions if you weren't gagged.

"A cover up. We could celebrate. Bring back the old ways. He would be pleased."

Your heart hammers in your chest when one of them says, "She wouldn't survive the night."

You begin to struggle when another agrees with, "He's a monster."

The guards drag you away as you hear, "There's a reason he has no permanent priestess."

All this because you dared to ask questions. Your government was not meant to be questioned, however. You wanted to know the why’s and how’s but you were just supposed to be a good little sheep that went with where the shepherd told you to go.

Perhaps… that had evolved into poking and prodding. Perhaps you might have gone to a meeting or two of like-minded individuals who also had questions. But they also demanded answers. Perhaps your government didn’t know what to do with you once they caught you. Perhaps you were fucked.

“It’s a great honor to be dedicated to one of the gods,” a soft spoken priestess chirps as she offers you garments that were too luxurious for you to have ever touched before.

“But this one…” another hesitates.

The first one hushes the second. “We clothe you as a bride for you are committing your life to the God you shall be serving. He will provide you with everything you need for your life with him.”

“He?” You prompt.

“He,” the second says firmly. “Your job is not to ask questions but to receive his blessings.”

You reside yourself to being quiet and simply absorbing. There is a hint of fear in the air, you can feel it like goosebumps on your flesh. You try to not let it infect you but fear burrows deep into every part of your mind.

You put on a brave face and smile when you’re being told again and again how much of an honor it is to be given to a god. To an immortal, having a human be an intermediary between his brilliance and the minds of the lesser, was an honor gifted. But was it an honor received?

“A veil for our bride to be,” the soft spoken priestess offers and you bend down for the wizened old lady. She fixes it upon your head and spreads the black lace over your face.

“Now it is time to celebrate your honor.” The second priestess waves her hand to the door that will open to your fate.

You walk along a corridor of gathered people. They threw flowers at your feet, like they were truly celebrating your nuptials. They cheered and whistled and shouted well wishes.

They didn't know they were celebrating your last day on this planet but at least they weren't jeering you at you as you made your way to an execution stage.

The grand path took you straight to the temple of the God of Chaos. You didn't know much about him but the temple had seen better days. Still, you kept your head high as the cheering died off when they realized where exactly you were going.

It was utter silence as the guards of the temple opened the door and you stepped through it. This was it; this was the beginning of your end.

The doors close behind you with a loud boom and then you are left with the dust and the disarray. The temple interior, for it lacked a priestess, had no upkeep. Melted candles and wilted incense cover every surface. Alcoves held art that didn't paint a pretty picture for you. There are burning cities and tornados and plagues. He truly was the god of chaos.

Well, there was no delaying the inevitable.

At the back of the temple, there was a chipped fresco of a door. You had been instructed to simply bow and wait for your ‘husband’ to receive you. So you threw yourself to your knees, with your black lace wedding dress pooled around you and said the words to summon the god in charge of your life now.

“Oh God of Chaos, oh husband of mine to be, please bestow unto me your earthly form, so that I may tend to all within your realm and shower you with prayers and attention,” You pray.

The mural of the door becomes murky and iridescent, like quicksilver alive, and through steps your God. His brilliance almost blinds you and you throw up an arm to brace yourself from the light.

A big sigh can be heard. “I forget how weak you mortals are,” the voice drawls.

The light recedes and you put your arm down. You had expected to see a monster but instead you are awestruck with beauty. The god, the man, has black hair down to his shoulders, held back in a simple half-up do. He needs no clothing of opulence but requires a simple robe, falling off one shoulder like he barely minded to keep clothed. He walks down the steps, pat pat pat, a pace of a lazy being, not held to the restraint of time.

“Let’s see my bride,” He murmurs, chucking a finger under your chin.

You stare up at him, directly so, and see chaos swimming in his pupils. If he is your death, so be it. You would embrace it as if it was a gift. You refuse to go out whimpering like you regret your choices. You were firm in your stance that you deserved answers.

“Oh, how delectable,” the god smirks.

“Husband,” You reply demurely.

The god casts back his head in laughter, almost melodic in its sound. “Hyunjin. We can do away with that wife and husband stuff. Those are constructs of humans. I am not one of those.”

“Hyunjin, then,” You say, somewhat at half-mast.

He tilts his head curiously. “You’re different from the other ones they sent me. Why?”

You chew hesitantly on your lip. What did you have to lose? Your life was already forfeit. So why not give this god the blunt truth. “They feared you. I do not.”

“Courage, hmm?” Hyunjin begins to pace around you, a sandaled foot slapping the slab of concrete. “You humans are wondrous and yet disappointing most days.”

You jut out your chin stubbornly. “Yes, courage. Now are you going to kill me or play with your food?”

The pacing stops and Hyunjin stares at you for a moment before a maniacal grin pulls at his features. “Play with my food, huh?”

You feel like your heart is akin to a trapped bird, beating its wings against your chest. Are you even breathing? What does an immortal get from killing a human? A temporary amusement and then flock back to their realm?

“If you're my priestess now, will you pray at my temple?” Hyunjin runs the back of his finger down the lace of your arm.

“I--” You didn't know what to say but you could feel the underlying words. Is this how you survived?

“Please, Hyunjin, I would be your priestess. I would dedicate my life to serving you. I would--”

“What about your body?” Hyunjin wonders, biting down on his thumbnail. “Would you release it to my control? Give yourself utterly to me?”

“My body is no longer my own.” You collapse to the floor, arms above your head, palms up, knees still tucked under you. “Do with it what you will.”

“And what if my will was to have you bent over my altar?”

You gasp, sitting up. You cannot help yourself, because you did not expect to be spoken like this by a god. Then again, he was the god of chaos.

“If it would please you, Hyunjin, I would.”

“Would you?” Hyunjin cocks his head, looking to read the words on your face. “Would you let me part your moistened lips with my cock and we've barely introduced ourselves?”

“I know you said to do away with the constructs of humans, but if I am your wife and you are my husband, would we not consummate our marriage?”

Hyunjin holds your gaze, deep and dark, penetrating and digging. “I would. But I ask you again, Priestess, would you?”

You rose slightly on your knees until your lips were so close a flower petal would barely have room. “I would become your priestess in every way, Hyunjin.”

For if you had to fuck a god, one beautiful and tempting, and yes mad, would you not, in order to live?

“Then I will take all that you have to offer. Your initiation to become my priestess begins now.”

With a flick of Hyunjin’s wrist, you find your body pushed up against the altar that he had been speaking of before. It is a rusty color, which you quickly dismiss from your mind as old blood. You brace yourself as you feel hands touching your legs, firmly pushing them apart but you feel no warmth of Hyunjin’s body behind you. Those same ‘hands’ rip the back of your dress and you feel the cool, dry air of the temple, giving you goosebumps.

“Human… why do you not have any underwear on?” Hyunjin drawls, still sounding far away.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. “They did not supply me with any… the other priestesses…”

Hyunjin cackles wildly. Suddenly, with a snap of a finger, Hyunjin appears before you, a slight cocky smile tugging at his lips. “I love a good surprise.”

That being said, you watch with eyes big with wonder when Hyunjin makes a crude motion with his fingers. You feel as if he is fucking you with his fingers but he is directly in front of you. Whatever chaotic power the god wields, it’s fucking you good. You gasp and press your cheek to the cool stone of the altar, holding on as the ‘fingers’ push in and out of you. Hyunjin crooks his fingers in a come hither motion and you moan wantonly as he presses against your g-spot like he knew where it was all along.

“Pray to me, Priestess,” Hyunjin croons softly.

You stutter and moan through broken sentences and Hyunjin glows with the soft power only a god must be able to hold. You’re sure he could make you explode into a tiny million red chunks but instead he uses his godhood in a pleasurable way on you, and you add a silent prayer that it remains that way.

You came on that altar untouched and a moment of shame runs through you. Are you truly that easy? But it was your life at stake, shouldn’t that also matter? You gasp on the altar, and the same hand that ‘made you come’ smoothes over your hair. “You did wonderfully for me, my lamb”

You raise your head curiously. “Did I pass?”

Hyunjin throws his head back and laughs a belly laugh, both high and low pitched at the same time. “My lamb, that was only the beginning.”

Hyunjin’s robe slips off his shoulder and pools on the floor below him, kicking off his sandals as well. He walks, slowly but firm-footed, around the altar to move behind you. His hands are soft but callus-worn against your hips as he guides you to turn around and face him. His eyes sweep over your face but when he finds no hesitation, only excitement, he grabs a handful of your dress at your chest and rips it open.

He wraps one of your legs around his hips, almost lovingly, fingers skimming over your skin. “This is the next test, my lamb.”

You swallow trepidation down your throat, refusing to let your courage falter. “I can do it.”

Hyunjin crawls forward on his altar, hips slotted against yours. His cock is heavy against your mound, both slender and long. “They say I’m a monster, are you sure?”

You don’t speak anymore, but buck your hips upwards so your wet heat smears against his length. “You excite me, God of Chaos. I’m sure.”

Without further adieu, Hyunjin’s cockhead parts your moist lips, just like he had described previously. He pushes and pushes and pushes until he’s nestled deep inside of your heat. He moves with sure strokes that only delight you and send a thrum of pleasure through your system. He fondles a breast, thumb strumming your nipple to a pert peak. His hips do most of the work but soon he finds that your body writhes for him.

Hyunjin is quick to press you into the stone. A hand holds your hip down so that he can drive deeper into your depths. Another hand holds your hand above your head, fingers interlaced with strong support. He holds you down, not to keep you in place, but so that your pleasure doesn’t escape you.

His dark eyes dart all over your face, picking up each minute frown and tiny gasp. His body speaks to yours, able to read how each stroke of his cock pushes you slowly forward to a pleasurable outcome. This is only his first time sheathed inside of you but he moves as if this was the thousandth time he’s fucked you. It’s poetry and you revel in the rhythm and rhymes.

“Hy-hyunjin,” You stammer. “I--”

“Go ahead,” Hyunjin encourages you, “Scream my name. It will only be one of many.”

Your limbs tighten as a force of lightning runs among your veins. You scream his name just like he commands, cunt convulsing around his perfect length. He doesn’t stop driving into you. At first it feels as if he is escorting you through your orgasm but then it feels too much and you cry out at the overstimulation.

“This doesn’t stop until I’m done with you,” Hyunjin whispers against the shell of your ear. “And I’ll never be done with you.”

Your insides feel as if you’ve been plowed a dozen times over, raw and sensitive, eventually giving over to another building of pleasure. You fight through your fog-filled mind to gasp, “Will… will you come as well?”

Hyunjin quirks an eyebrow at you. “A god comes only when he wants to. A seed given to a mortal can change the world's destiny.”

Hyunjin uses both hands to hold you down, a beautiful sheen of sweat covering his body and face. You briefly wonder if perhaps you will add a mural to the temple, one of this beautiful, chaotic god above you, beaming over you as if you are doing a fine job under him. Would that ruin his mythos or would it only add to it?

You find another orgasm with Hyunjin’s face buried into the crook of your neck. Hyunjin bites down on the junction, as if to ground himself. You’re raised on your hands and knees and taken like a beast from behind, if only to find another pleasure in the angle difference. You find your orgasm again and again. You feel like a quivering nerve, all exposed and lit with rapture.

But you don’t protest, simply whining through the pain to pleasure. You drink in everything Hyunjin gives you and it only makes his grin grow and grow.

Hyunjin seems to feed off of you, in ways you didn’t quite understand. The god enjoyed fucking. He wasn’t lost in the pleasure, but it was more like he never finished seeking out yours. For each orgasm you discovered, each longer and more drawn out to pull from your shaking body, he was determined to pull another one from you.

“You know I could go from sunset to sunrise and still never have enough of this,” Hyunjin admits.

You’re sweating and gasping for breath but still you find yourself yearning for more. Hyunjin simply looks to gift you with more pleasure than you possibly could hold but this feeling of being pampered, of being pleasured, it is intoxicating. You’re drunk off Hyunjin’s adoration of your body.

Your limbs are entangled in a lover’s pile. Still, you broach the subject again. Courage seems to prop you up time after time. “Come inside of me, Hyunjin,” You plead with a hoarse voice.

Hyunjin smiles angelically, clearly happy you insist on his pleasure. “Are you that greedy to carry a demi-god?”

You shake your head, surprised you even have the energy to do that. “I wish to see your pleasure written along your face.”

Hyunjin blinks in surprise and then laughs. “I am a god, I take pleasure in whatever I choose. You needn’t worry about me.”

Still, you press your case. “I wish to see your face when you come inside of me, Hyunjin. I want to see what it looks like when you’ve found pleasure inside of me. Is that not what a priestess is? Do I not serve you in the highest regard?”

Hyunjin runs a finger along the side of your face. “I have never had a priestess like you.”

“Then I passed the initiation? I am yours?” You raise yourself up with one arm.

“My lamb, you've been mine the moment you walked through that door,” Hyunjin whispers.

Hyunjin gathers you in his arms and presses your back against the mural where the world burns in the tiles. He penetrates you with ease, jaw dropping to mimic your own delighted gasp. With each thrust, his head nodding, following your own body rocking to his movements. He is enraptured by the way your pleasure made form in your features.

“Hyunjin.” You feel tears pass over your cheekbones.

“Don't be frustrated, you've done so well for me,” Hyunjin praises you, wiping away the rivulets of salt water. “I'll come, just like you wanted. I’d love to fill you up but I’d rather have you as a priestess than a god bearer for now.”

Hyunjin flexes his pelvis, his body making a wonderful line between your legs. You cling to his hips, legs locked behind his back, intent on showing the god you’re worthy of his climax. You squeeze down on him tightly, the crude squelching of your wetness and the way he is drilling into you echoing in the temple. His eyebrows furrow in concentration, teeth clamping down on his lower lip. You’re aware he won’t fill you up by his previous words but you’re simply looking forward to his orgasm.

With a great shout, Hyunjin pulls out, rutting against your mound and he comes, his cum hitting both your stomach and his. It glows golden, just like his godhood and then dies, like a firefly fading out. You love the way his pink mouth parts open, face full of pleasure as he releases, even though it can't be in side of you. Still, the pleasure is yours. Hyunjin grins, breathing heavily, appearing sweaty but satisfied. “Was the show worth what you paid for?”

You sigh dreamily. “I only crave for more now.”

You groan loudly when your legs untangle from his body and Hyunjin pins you against the wall with both hands heavily on your shoulders. “You need a good soak, my lamb. I still forget how fragile humans truly are.”

“That would be very much appreciated,” You say hopefully.

With a wave of Hyunjin’s hand, your gown simply disappears from your body, like it had never been there in the first place. You feel relieved to be free of the costume the other priestess’ had put on you but didn’t realize the repercussions of revealing your full body to him.

With your ripped gown having been vanished, you send a tired smile Hyunjin’s way but find that his face is stormy with rage. “Hyunjin? What have I done?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, one iris becoming light while the other remains dark. “They hurt you?”

You purse your lips. “They seeked to punish me for my questions, Hyunjin. I wasn’t a good little citizen like they prefer.”

Hyunjin paces, his perfect thighs taut with the movement. “They beat you and then decided that a bruised fruit was good enough to be my priestess? They insult you and me in the same breath.”

“Hyunjin, I believe you promised me a long soak.” You hold your hand out, wiggling your fingers. You couldn't very well rewrite the past and you aren’t looking to relive it either.

You feel a surge of power as Hyunjin takes your hand and takes you both to the large Greek styled bath of old. He sits on the bench, you between his legs. His arms frame the lip of the pool, tendrils of hair framing his face.

Your arms wobble as your hand dips under the water to wet your arms and upper body. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much other than float,” you state.

You turn your head to see Hyunjin looks quite smug but also content. He is glowing and you’re not sure if it’s his godhood or simply happy with what he has accomplished. “You performed your duties perfectly, Priestess.”

You duck your head, images of the many ways Hyunjin has taken you again and again. You had really done that with a stranger… no, a God. “I am happy to pass the initiation.”

The comfortable silence between you two stretches over like a soft and familiar blanket. You’re content to let the hot water soothe your aches and pains, well earned from the way Hyunjin had fucked you right. You’re not exactly sure what Hyunjin gets out of this, he was a god, could he have aches and pains? Regardless, the way he leans into your body, hugging you to his. It seems like he is still enjoying the presence of your body.

For what seems like centuries but perhaps only lasts a few moments, Hyunjin stretches and removes himself from the bath. You move to leave with him but he insists you remain. “I think it’s time to make the world quake for me again. I’ve been absent from this realm for too long.” He sends you a long look. “Tell me exactly what they did to you.”

You do not dare leave any detail out, so you spill your truth in a frenzy of stumbling words. Hyunjin, instead of getting angry, re-acquires that grin you had first seen on his face, full of madness. He leans downwards and tips your chin up for the softest of farewell kisses.

“You did so well for me,” He purrs, “Allow me to do this for you.”

Without truly understanding the full meaning, you nod your head in acknowledgement. Hyunjin throws back his head with a cackle bubbling from his throat. He shoves on his sandals and tosses on the robe he had removed a long time ago.

You watch as Hyunjin leaves just as he arrives, covered in a simple robe to frame his perfect body. You swear you can hear faint screaming, crashes and bangs, and a faint licking of orange in the distance. He was burning the world down for you, for everything it had put you through. And frankly, you couldn't find the will to pity them.

#codn: spring24 #cultofdionysusnet #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #➸skz #topaz's work #recent

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 2 months

Text

Texting them “I need you right now”

Note: hi everyone! So sorry for not posting in months, life wasn't easy on me. I managed to sort things out (hopefully they will stay organised this time, or else I'm starting a new life in Spain), and I plan to write more. I'm also taking commissions again (the financial situation it's not good, so every commission would help me a lot!). Anyway, I haven't written anything since January, so please be kind with me.

He won't see your text right away because he's a busy man. After he has some free time, he checks his phone and immediately opens the chat with you, ignoring everyone else.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"

The text is demanding, and he knows something is wrong with you, so he tries to finish faster whatever he had planned for that day, which he fails because he is constantly thinking about you. So, he dropped everything and came to you.

Wesker is a man of his word, so he arrives on time.

"Have you been crying, my love?" he asked as he saw that your eyes were all red and your face was swollen.

"Yeah...petty reason."

"If it was petty, you wouldn't have called me."

You wasted no time and threw yourself in his arms, sinking into his embrace and burring your face into his chest.

Being busy all the time, you barely see him. Maybe once a month nowadays, and this long wait only contributed to your sadness. You yearned to talk with someone like him because he made you feel safe. You knew he was listening, and you knew he didn't judge. Also, he would comfort you with small kisses and gentle touches and would praise you for being strong.

He moved you to your sofa, made your favourite tea, and listened carefully as you talked about your worries and recent unfortunate events.

During that time, he received a lot of calls and texts, but he turned his phone on silent because his main priority was you.

He hugged you tight, telling you that he'd always be there for you, no matter what. One hand would gently massage your hair, and the other would massage your back. It hurt him so damn much to see you like this and hear you sob in his arms. He wanted to hurt everyone who caused you to end up like this, and he was very vocal about his intentions.

"You can't protect me from the world, Albert. All you can do is be here for me when I need it."

He didn't like your response or agree with your opinion, but for now, he kept you tight to his chest.

He usually stays until you feel better, and then he leaves to do his work. He will be worried all day because you're still on his mind, so he checks on you frequently, promising to take you on a small trip to calm your mind.

The government agent is always busy. He's either stuck in his office completing paperwork, training new recruits, or on a mission on the other side of the globe.

He wasn't away on the field, so when he saw your text, he immediately responded. Even if he was busy doing desk duty or fighting, he would try to respond asap (he will hide in a corner if he had to, if that means he'll get five minutes of peace to text you back because he knows how worried you can get).

"What's wrong, doll?"

"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"

A pretty demanding text means an urgent need, so he left early, abandoning everything he had scheduled for today. That annoyed some of his superiors, but he got away without much trouble.

Leon tried his best to arrive on time. He was being pressured by time and worry; he drove like a maniac to your place on his motorcycle, but he stopped to buy your favorite sweets.

"I bought you something good," he said, smiling in the doorframe and opening the bag to show the inside. However, his smile dropped.

"Have you been crying?" he asked, quickly cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your face was flushed and very warm to the touch, and your eyes were swollen and teary.

"Yeah...petty reason."

"You don't cry like that for a petty reason," he said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You quickly hugged him and burried your nose at the crook of his neck. He hugged you back tight, a trail of kisses caressing your skin, starting from your neck to your face.

He guided you to the bed, where he listened to you and held you tight. His fingers kept brushing over your face, and his lips would occasionally press tiny, affectionate kisses over your skin. His body was glued to yours, and the warmth from such an intimate embrace made you feel safe. You felt safe not only to express your emotions, but you also felt sheltered from the rest of the world.

"You are not alone," he whispered as his hand caressed your back in a gentle manner. "I told you, no matter how hard it gets, we'll find a way to get through it together."

He usually stays until he makes sure you feel better. After that, he texts you the whole day, asking how you feel because he can't ease his own anxiety. He promised to take you on a vacation.

He noticed your text right away, but he's stuck with his research and can't reply instantly. He will text you back as soon as he can.

"What's wrong, mi bella princesa?"

"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"

With much difficulty and a lot of excuses, he manages to leave his laboratory and come to your place.

Upon seeing your red and watery eyes, he quickly came inside and cupped your face.

"Have you been crying?" he asked, worried, his fingers brushing over your warm, red cheeks.

"yeah...petty reasons." You tried your best to smile.

"Querida, you don't cry like that because of petty reasons." He gently kissed your forehead.

He pulled closer to him, and you quickly hugged him, buring your face into his chest. Luis kept kissing you and whispering kind words to help you feel better.

"Just talk to me, ok? There isn't anything in this world that we can't get through."

Despite the firm grip around your body, he managed to caress you with tenderness. His strokes were as delicate as a feather, and every soft kiss felt warm and loving.

He was so kind and gentle, and his attitude only made you more vulnerable, so you started crying again.

"Please, my love, don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this." He whispered.

He guided you to the bed and cuddled with you. His arms were wrapped around your body, and his nose was buried in your hair.

"Is there anything I can do to make it all go away?" He said, hand stroking your back.

"No, just hold me like this."

It breaks his heart to see you like that, so he kept thinking about making you feel better.

"How about you and I go for a walk?" He said this as his fingers ran through your smooth hair. "Or we can stay here and cuddle; watch that movie you like. I can make something to eat, and we can relax."

"It sounds good," you said, your smile making a shy return. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

"it's fine." He pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You know I'm always here for you."

"I know, and I appreciate that." You caressed his face, your fingers exploring every inch, going through his fluffly hair over his beard and over his lips. You two were looking at each other with the same enamoured gaze as in the beginning.

"We can spend some time tomorrow if you want," he added, being enchanted by the shared intimate moment, feeling drawn in by your presence, and wanting to spend more time with you.

"What about work?" you asked.

"Don't worry, as much as I hate it, I will find the lab in the same place I left it today."

Your light chuckle made him feel a little better. Whenever you are sad, he feels his heart shatter into tiny pieces. You mean the world to him, and he'd do anything to protect you.

He was training the new recruits when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After a quick glance, he gave the men a five-minute break so he could respond to you. Jack blames himself for not giving you proper attention since he is always on the field, so when he can, he drops everything and focuses on you entirely.

"What's wrong, beautiful?"

"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"

His subordinates were thrilled to find out that they had the rest of the day off.

He is a punctual man, so he arrives on time and not a minute late, holding a bag with your favourite snacks.

He tried to hide his worry behind a comforting smile. He quickly noticed your puffy face and teary eyes.

"Have you been crying?" he asked in a low tone, coming closer to you. He cups your face and brings you closer to him, pressing small, gentle kisses all over your face. His tenderness was endearing, so much so that warm tears began to drip down your cheeks again.

"It's just...petty reasons." You said it with a trembling voice.

"Bullshit."

He pulled you closer to his chest and held you tight. His hands were stroking your back, his head pressed to yours. His much larger frame swallowed you whole, seeming as if you had disappeared completely.

You felt safe in his arms. It was so warm and comforting, and not only his embrace made you feel this way, but also his reassuring words that he'd whisper constantly.

He carried you to the bed, and as he was sitting close to you, he brushed his fingers over your check and listened closely to what you had to say. It broke his heart to see you like this, and he couldn’t stop asking himself if, if he were there more often for you, you would still end up like this. This type of question tormented him, and you could feel that.

“I’m sorry, maybe it’s a lot too dump on you.” You said this as you caressed his face, your fingers trailing over his scars.

“No, not at all, love.” He took your hand and placed a lingering kiss in your palm. “I just wish I was there for you more often.”

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. The important thing is that you’re here now, and that means a lot to me."

You felt his lips kissing you softly once your head was pressed against his chest.

He still feels guilty, but it doesn't press over his shoulder as hard anymore. He promised to spend more time with you.

#resident evil #albert wesker #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #resident evil 4 remake #luis serra #jack krauser #krauser x reader #wesker x reader #luis serra x reader

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dykealloy · 7 months

Text

spoilers up to the end of dressrosa arc here but. I can't stop thinking about how Law takes on Rosinante's will. Corasan freed him from Doflamingo and the marines and the world government and everyone that ever could have touched him at the time, but has Law really felt free? “Everything I do until I die represents what Corasan achieved” is sweet until you recognise that Law is willing (and planned) to go to the grave for that belief. Until Doflamingo dies there is always a part of him stuck in that treasure chest, constrained by what Law felt happened to Corasan due to him that day.

It's crazy how textbook survivors guilt victim Law is (I’m new here so I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t the first time this has been brought up), but let’s just quickly go over some symptoms:

Obsessive thoughts about the traumatic event ✅ (will go over this in greater detail below)

A sense of disconnection or detachment/need to isolate oneself from others ✅ (Law doesn't fully isolate himself but he definitely has his walls up at all times, though there are often subtle hints of him enjoying the company of the people he chooses to surround himself with. He is notably more reserved, emotionally unavailable, cold and distant than others around him, and watching closely you'll notice that even physically he has a tendency to situate himself three steps behind the group)

Insomnia, nightmares, flashbacks of the traumatic event ✅ (if we can assume some of his backstory expressed in Dressrosa are flashbacks, and also assuming that the perpetual eyeliner he wears are covering some pretty heavy eyebags. Also mention that the only time we see him resting is against Sunny's mast on the way to Dressrosa - and that was 1. a filler episode, and 2. if he was sleeping, it was very quickly interrupted by an attack by petplay guy - a nightmare in of itself)

Irritability and anger ✅ (though elements of this could just be attributed to Law's personality or a natural response to the straw hat's shenanigans, as well as Luffy's total inability to stick to a reasonable plan)

Feelings of despair and thoughts of suicide ✅ (that's Law's Dressrosa arc babe)

Now, there's many reasons why Law is unable to move past this guilt (an apparent lack of therapists in one piece being one of them) - but his inability to believe in unconditional love is likely the biggest offender.

Law may have started off (initially) with one of the most fortunate, stable beginnings, with a loving family and a big house in a rich country (wealth of which was built off the back of lies and corruption and the murder of innocent future generations - we'll get there). But he had a mother and a father who loved and nurtured Law (and were both highly respected doctors in their own right who citizens trusted and relied on). Law's happy beginnings really juxtapose the unfathomable horror that had been lying in wait in Flevance.

Even when shit started to hit the fan, at a very young age (<10 yrs old), Law was already stepping up and showing love for his little sister (lying to her when she was on her deathbed, knowing full well he would likely face the same fate after reading his charts, putting on a brave face for her so she wouldn't be afraid when the screams began to reach their front door, hiding her away when soldiers sieged their home and rushing to check on his parents). Given everything that happened in Flevance, it's completely understandable that, while Law will likely never forget the love his family gave him, remembering it became twisted in the lasting memories of his home — parents riddled with bullet holes. a closet holding a sick little sister waiting for him in a house engulfed by flames. stumbling through a town of friends, neighbours, just... people he used to pass by on the street, now all dead.

Seeing hell, knowing why and how it transpired, who were responsible (spoilers, the World Government; the same body that most citizens believe exist to protect them — yeah, sister "a merciful hand of salvation waiting to help" were perhaps the worst possible combination of words you could have left Law with here. Likely instrumental in having him lose his faith "I don't believe in anything anymore."), knowing he is the only survivor, and fated to die anyway due to the terminal illness that is slowly killing him because some figureheads years back were greedy and the governing powers above the figureheads were willing to cover up everything if it meant garnering a portion of wealth and maintaining influence and control. It's beyond grief, beyond rage. And there's absolutely nowhere Law can put it. No one he can retaliate against. Who could come out of hell knowing this and not want to see the world burn?

So, smart little Law escapes under a pile of bodies and goes to the one person infamously revered for being in the business of that kind of thing. And boy oh boy I can only begin to imagine how a young and impressionable Law - fresh from a genocide, with a hole in his heart and a hatred for everything still alive - had his concept of love warped whilst surviving those two years around Doflamingo and his family. A family where members are only welcome so far as they are useful to Doflamingo and his aspirations. Of course Law's going to pick up some fucked up ideas about how love works outside this little white fence he grew up and watched burn down.

Then. Enter Corazon.

Their relationship may begin on shaky legs (near-juvenicide via defenestration in a failed attempt to ward Law away from sticking around) but Corazon quickly becomes the one person in the world Law can trust and rely on again. And Rosinante can only do so much in terms of healing and guiding this broken kid (yes, his position both as Doffy's brother and as a double agent made things difficult, but need I mention he was only 26! 26 when he died!) but he showed Law kindness and compassion when he was at his lowest. He had faith in the existence of a cure that Law was long past believing. Was determined to help him, even against Law's wishes, even if it meant having Law relive his trauma over and over again. Corasan becomes incredibly important to Law, giving him a reason to live beyond just destruction and revenge.

After the rest of the world had long turned his back on him, when he had been nothing but a dying puddle of rage and self-destructive nihilism, Corasan saved Law. He told Law "Aishiteru" - a very rare way of saying "I love you", never used casually due to the depth of its meaning and the massive connotations behind it - in essence translating to "I love you so much I cannot possibly imagine life without you". There's a high likelihood that at his age, Law had never heard these words before, and probably didn't quite understand the weight of Rosinante saying it at the time.

Corasan frees Law, then he dies at the hand of Doflamingo, Rosinante's own brother.

All Rosinante wanted was for this poor kid to go on and live his life unburdened by his more than turbulent history and his connection to Doffy, but I think for all his planning, Rosinante's one critical error was well and truly underestimating how much him loving Law, and loving Law to the extent he did, would mean to that kid. Law really went from that ten year old hollow void sentiment of "why does anyone or anything at all get to exist when everything that was important to me is dead, burned to ashes and wiped off the map" to "I should have died at age thirteen and every second I've lived since then, I've only lived as a result of Corasan's efforts and as a personal affront to Doflamingo." This time, Law has a tangible, heinous 10 foot monster of a target to direct 1. his grief and anger and 2. justice for Cora towards, and this time he has the power and will to follow through. More than that, he believes Corasan sacrificed himself for him because he's a D. (someone destined to rain down destruction on the gods - Doflamingo, in this case). Corazon becomes a saint that Law dedicates the rest of his life to. Which is something that Law is not vocal about to just anyone he comes across, but is so unbelievably obvious once you know what you're looking at — his tattoos, his jolly roger, his crew, his ship, his ambitions, his beliefs, his fucking. custom-made Corazon jacket. all of it for this man that showed Law - at a time when he hated the world and everything in it - love. For all of six months. max.

And his whole life and personality and behaviour CONTINUES to be guided by this trauma — the way he's reckless with himself, his borderline self-destructive actions, the way he keeps telling himself that none of it would've been worth it unless Corasan's last wishes are fulfilled, the way he surrounds himself with bright people and soft things, the way it doesn't register that his crew genuinely loves and cares about him, the way he's terrified of losing anyone important to him again (and I would say this is one of his biggest downfalls as a Captain compared to someone like Luffy - who is just as reckless as Law is but trusts his crew, doesn't try to send them away, isn't afraid to let them grow and risk their lives for him like Law is with the heart crew), his inability to take a damn compliment. The way he doesn't understand Luffy AT ALL.

Doesn't understand that this alliance that he's brokered means nothing to Luffy because he sees him as FRIEND. No transactions or mutually beneficial pacts necessary. Doesn't get that he's the one that inadvertently asked Luffy to be his friend, thus breaking a long chain of people (mostly parental figures and siblings) abandoning or leaving Luffy behind/no one taking the first initiative to ask to be around him. Law is complete and utterly in the dark as to why someone would ever bat for him when the stakes are this high for no other reason than because they like them and care about them as a person.

Luffy, with his playground rules where he loves unconditionally and will take on the world for a friend he made five minutes ago, perplexes Law with his sheer simplicity.

When Sengoku tells Law, "Don't try to find a reason for someone's love", I do NOT think he takes it well. Because there must be a reason. There has to be. Between the two options of Corasan saving Law's life and freeing him because he believed in the will of D., or Rosinante saving him for no other reason than because Law was a kid that was loveable, and because he loved him unconditionally... everything we've learned about how Law functions up until this point suggests the former will always make more sense to him, and after everything he's been through, is most likely less painful for him to accept.

#LONG POST #in this essay i will... oh no. this was a spiral i was not ready to go down.#I'm not doing okay btw #one piece meta #these were originally 2am tags but upon reflection i thought it should probably be its own post #CJ's op watch-through #one piece #op #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #corazon #corasan #donquixote rosinante #monkey d. luffy #lawlu #dressrosa spoilers #op meta #op analysis

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rayshippouuchiha · 1 month

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So I found your Fanfic writer Izuku AU yesterday, and I read basically all of it. I really loved it!

One thing that I found hilarious was Aizawa being so freaked out and obsessed with the fanfics. My train of thought lead me to ask what if Aizawa wasn't the only person the was freaked out/obsessed with the weirdly accurate fanfics, but I wasn't sure who cause the LOV already reads it and Endeavor wouldn't touch fanfiction with ten foot pole, then it hit me: The Hero Commission!

I think the Commission would probably have a team or department of people monitoring online opinions and information on heros and villians. Officially, this monitoring is meant to prevent/mitigate information leaks and to find/track criminal activity. Unofficially, they use it squish online descent of the Commission and the heros they have in their pocket. They likely use a filter to handle they bulk of the searching/monitoring, and Izuku fanfics start showing up one day. Which the Commission mostly ignored, because it's fanfic who the hell is going to pay attention to that, until someone actually decided to read a couple of the fics because they are repeatedly (possible for multiple different reason) showing up in the filters and notice how strangely accurate the fics are.

Izuku's fanfics don't direct bashing or talk about the Commission, it's more mentioned in passing in the fics that it would make sense for the heros or police in his fic to talk about the Commission, but whenever the Commission is brought up it's never in a good light - especially in fics about Endeavor and possibly Hawks if Izuku wrote fics about him. That team would probably be at least a little freaked out if they looked up the actual cases that depicted in the fics and found that a lot of them were solve in ways that varied from similar to - exactly like writen in the fanfics. Being even more freaked out when they notice that the fics were posted before the the cases were solved.

The team can't figure out who the writer is, even with the links to their analysis blog, and possibly think they have a prophecy or foresight quirk. They start to panic a bit when Izuku starts depicting Endeavor as domestic abuser, especially if Izuku writes about Endeavor loosing custody of Shoto or being exposed or facing consequences, but the team is completely stuck cause they can't figure out who the writer is and they can't take this to higher ups because is fucking fanfiction even with all the evidence no one would believe them.

This entire situation as the background radiation in the AU would be hilariously perfect.

Izuku: *happily writing his fanfiction filled with observations/information that are Perfectly Normal To Make/Know*

Actual Pro Heroes/Government Agents: PROPHECY QUIRK!?!?!?!!?!!

#Fic Writer Izuku AU #BnHA #MHA #RayRambles

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sonicasura · 10 months

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Transformers: Analog Horror Style

I've been talking about this on a non fandom related Discord and decided to bring it here. There are various analog horrors that utilize non horror series such as Splatoon 3 or Jurassic Park. It felt only right to add something like Transformers to the mix.

Extraterrestrial mechanical beings who can disguise themselves as various machinery, grainy footage and videotapes that only hold clues??? Perfect material for a horror. Here's some ideas that came to mind.

Decepticons

Nowhere is safe and one wrong move can potentially be your last. The Internet is a stalking ground so post or search with caution. Lest you wind up on Soundwave's radar. This Decepticon will be happy to light up his targets for one reason: an insidious hunt for the spy master's cassettes to enjoy.

Ever seen a beautiful sports car parked by the side with a sleek blood red paint job? DO NOT TOUCH. Unless you want to meet the same fate as all the others who run afoul with Knockout.

A terror in the skies that signals disaster wherever he appears. Pray the lone jet doesn't reveal it's true form. Don't look and hope he hadn't spotted you if a glimpse occurs. Survivors of Starscream are miniscule.

Results are all that matter. Morals? Worthless. Lives? Another opportunity to experiment. Emotions? Not needed. Shockwave only serves for the cause with lethal efficiency.

It is useless to hide. This will only excite him. Run as it chips away at his boredom. Fight and he'll be merry to slaughter the lamb caught in his gaze. All Hail Megatron as humanity is nothing but a plaything.

The only way this information can get through is by the way of analog. Find these tapes at your own risk. There is no turning back the moment the video starts. Decepticons don't lose their prey easily.

Autobots

It's nearly impossible to tell if they have good intentions unlike their more violent counterparts. The Internet is a double edged sword that needs to be regarded with caution. Autobots are at a greater disadvantage than you think. What little information about them is scarce.

Communication and knowledge is minimal. Some can speak but how comprehensible they are varies. The most understandable share only broken sentences that rarely blur into inhuman language. A few offer a 'soup' of linguistics which share little to no connection. Some play by the ear but don't understand what every word means. The remainder are mute, either speaking in their language or have no voice box to respond through.

Most don't understand how humans function. A situation that has led to people being slaughtered by Decepticons, accidental harm to the innocent, or danger by their fellow man who believe they gone insane. This has led to a decision from their leader, Optimus Prime.

Human help is REQUIRED. They need a liaison if the Autobots hope to even catch up to the Decepticons. Government related officials won't do as these humans are too volatile and always under Soundwave's surveillance.

What they need is a teacher. Someone who can offer such knowledge and not marked as a person of interest to their enemies. A bystander will do.

Pay attention to the car that appears outside your driveway. Look closer at the one following behind on the road. Did another join each car? Flee foolishly and they will give chase.

If the lights behind you disappear, DON'T RELAX. The Peterbilt is coming. Avoid him as he will trap you. Stop and the chance of escape dwindles. Turning off the engine was a bad mistake. DO NOT RUN. Optimus Prime will catch you and escape is impossible.

Welcome to the war. You can't escape until one side wins. The Autobots are guardians but also prison wards to their chosen liaison. You will be protected yet caution is still advised. Welcome to this new dangerous life.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you later. Transform and Roll Out!

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evilminji · 5 months

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Back at it again with the BNHA crossover Ponderings!

Nedzu is LITERALLY one of THE smartest beings on the planet, right? Like... he's probably on some internationally recognized list of Top Planetary IQs? Which is why Japan let's him get away with so much?

Cause they REALLY fucked him over, he has the power to leave, and that would be really, REALLY bad Brain Drain wise/politically for the Japanese Government? (Also pls don't become a Supervillian we literally can not afford that, Mr. Nedzu Sir? Etc etc)

You think he has... like? Chats? With the OTHER top intellects? Some kid in Siberia with the New Super Intelligence Quirk his parents can't begin to even handle, gets put in history's WEIRDEST group chat? I like to think so.

But the REASON I ask this?

What hero do you call? For Weird Shit in international waters?

Suspicious, floating, weirdly two dimensional and HIGHLY radioactive... corrosive... green goop? Rings? Orbs? CAN it be an orb if it's two dimensional? It certainly LOOKS like there is depth to it... somehow...

A THING. In the sky.

Shouldn't be there, man. This is a shipping lane. It's scaring the people on passing ships. No one knows what Quirk could have made this. Might be a trafficking victim's call for help. Might be a first Quirk Use mishap. They need to know what it IS and how to get rid of it.

They go the normal routes first. Doesn't work. Okay, call in some professionals. Kinda pricey, but no big. Right? Doesn't work. Okaaaay, call in a SPECIALIST. REAL pricey, but this thing is holding up international trade, making people in fancy ass suit all Nervous(TM).

Doesn't Work.

Specialist tells um to not to bother with calling anyone else on their normal list. Is looking at the green goo like it spat on his mother and called his dog a whore. They would prefer he NOT make that facial expression. That is a facial expression that will get them yelled at by their bosses. Fuck(TM).

Now Politics(TM) are involved. People want to STUDY the green goo. Harness it for dubious and unknown green goo experiments. Poke it with their Quirk to see what'll happen. There's fuckin REPORTER with no concept of self-preservation, trying to get CLOSER to the RADIOACTIVE POISON GOO.

Fuckin Heros have shown up.

Why are you bastards even HERE. What? Are you peacocks gonna PUNCH it? Get off their rig! Stop posing in front of the GOO!

Then? Oh thank GOD. The SMART people show up. Certified, highest grade, triple refined, PREMIUM Nerds(TM). The WAY above our pay grade folks. We're SAVED! Can we PLEASE go home now? We are just ocean cleaners! Our job is debris! Not weird GOO!

Enter, stage Super Cool Helicopters? The Elite Nerds of Earth. Of which Nedzu is one. Since Japan is closest. And it's a school weekend! He had some time.

And?

Ha ha... Thanks, he hates it! Nedzu's stoat brain is SCREAMING and he wants NOTHING to do with...? What he is somehow CERTAIN is a floating pit of Death! Interesting effect. Anyone getting that or just him?

Then? Some hot head on loan to Korea from the states? Spots something. SomeONE. And does he TELL the newly arrived professionals? So they may do a risk assessment? Figure out a way to rescue this individual SAFELY? Of course not!

Said hot head has supposedly indescribable chains! So he just flings them rights on in! Grabbing the boy from the center of the portal, pulling him free, and in the process? Immediately destabilizing it. Causing it to collapse down towards everyone bellow.

He also then proceeds to DROP the young lad, in his alarm at this entirely predictable outcome.

Right. Into. The Ocean.

A boy, who is dressed in filthy medical scrubs, haunting familiar in a way nothing should EVER be again, and entirely unconscious. Plunge down into the briny deeps and bitter cold. Alone. Abandoned. Death, thick and viscous, losing form and raining down like bile.

Everyone saving themselves.

Ah, he rather liked this suit.

The salt water ruins it. The droplets of Green, burn like molten glass each time they touch him. He will likely have at least a few new scars, after today. Assuming this is not the end of him. But he swims fast. The boy sinking slower then his size would suggest he should. He grabs hold and arcs, dragging them both from beneath the fallout of yet another humans hubris.

He does not stop swimming. Not until he knows he is near the helicopter. He is thankful, that he dragged Aizawa along. The man takes one look at his serious expression, the state of his rescued young friend, and merely hauls them both out of the water and into the machine.

Time to go.

They saw nothing, it seems. And there is nothing to be found.

The boy does not wake. Not for quite a while. Long enough, that Nedzu, perhaps unwisely, has grown attached. Is considering adoption. If only too terrorize a few goverment bodies. And... well... the boy will need some who UNDERSTANDS. And the scars paint a very specific sort of tale. But first, the most important question, when beginning these things...

"Tea? Or would you prefer coffee?"

@the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter @hdgnj

#minji's ponderings #bnhaxdp #dp x bnha #principal nedzu

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