#“such an unquiet person”

[hooked-on-elvis]

Elvis' Sword Cane ⚔️

Elvis On Tour (1972)

Watching the doc for the millionth time and I've only noticed this now. I wondered if EP's cane was actually a weapon... and it looks like I was right. Apparently, all of Elvis' canes were also swords... and he was making it clear onscreen. LOL.

Subtle message: "Don't f*** with me".

Source video: Reddit

Elvis and Vernon Presley in Buffalo, New York. April 5, 1972.

[tamaharu]

rose in the novelization is so funny. shes like god this dude is arrogant and stupid. i can tell hes waiting for me to ask him what hes doing so im not doing that. and shes correct because the doctor gets antsy two minutes later and tells her what hes doing.

[fantastic-nonsense]

Things Kaz canonically does in the two years between Crooked Kingdom and Rule of Wolves:

(presumably) massively expands the Dregs' territory

buys Pekka's old club (the Emerald Palace) and completely renovates it, turning it into The Silver Six

massively expands the Crow Club to the point where it's "three times the size of every other establishment on the block"

builds an underground tunnel that goes from the Crow Club to the Geldstraat, where the Van Eck Mansion is

takes Jesper out on jobs with him often enough that Wylan has jokingly banned Jesper from answering the door when he knocks

learns about Ketterdam's Suli laborers and picks up additional knowledge of Suli culture

keeps up with Inej's whereabouts and helps her take out slavers

expands his information network to the Kerch colonies

is on friendly enough terms with the King of Ravka that he taught Nikolai how to pick locks and Nikolai feels comfortable personally writing him a letter when he needs to steal the titanium from Kerch

disguises himself just to follow people around on the streets

was planning to steal the titanium from the military base anyway just for fun

And that's just the stuff we see from Nikolai's and Zoya's incredibly limited perspectives during their Ketterdam sidequest

I 100% agree with Zoya when she thinks that "maybe Kaz was like Nikolai, a boy with an unquiet mind, a man in perpetual need of challenge" because ROW makes it so obvious that Kaz is bored and incredibly restless in his success. Someone get our boy a new life's purpose and a subscription to a long-running unsolved mystery podcast stat

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.

warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.

notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!

(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)

divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^

You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.

You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.

Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.

To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.

Friends.

The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.

You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.

It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.

So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.

Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.

"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."

"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."

"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."

"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"

Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.

"Natasha."

"Yeah?"

"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.

Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"

"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."

"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.

"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."

"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.

"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.

"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"

"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."

"Just what?"

The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.

The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.

You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."

"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.

She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.

Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"

The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.

"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."

"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.

"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"

"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"

You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."

She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."

"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."

Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.

You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."

Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.

She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.

"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."

Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.

The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.

"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."

"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."

"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.

Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.

"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.

You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.

"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."

"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"

"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.

"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.

"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."

Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.

The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.

[lexiputellas]

Jealous? Me? Never

The restaurant is the kind of place where they don’t put prices on the menu—because if you have to ask, you probably shouldn’t be here. Dim candlelight flickers on pristine white tablecloths, and the air hums with soft jazz and whispered conversations.

Everything about this place screams exclusivity. The silverware is heavier than your wristwatch, the chandeliers glow like molten gold, and you’re fairly certain at least two people here have old-money last names carved into European castles.

Alexia, of course, fits in perfectly. She sits across from you in a tailored black suit, draped in effortless elegance, the candlelight casting golden hues on her cheekbones. She doesn’t even have to try—she just belongs.

You wouldn’t say you were a jealous person in past relationships. You were chill, secure. But with Alexia? Oh, you’re very jealous.

Not because you don’t trust her—she’s perfect. But because you don’t trust other people.

She’s one of the best footballers in the world. The captain. A living legend. And, in your very humble and unbiased opinion, the hottest one too. So when the waitress approaches and immediately directs her full attention to Alexia, you start to feel… unquiet.

Not a glance in your direction. Not even an acknowledgment that you exist.

“Good night,” she purrs.

Alexia, ever polite, smiles. “Good night.”

And that’s all she says. Yet, the waitress beams like Alexia just whispered the secrets of the universe to her.

Would you like to acknowledge me, ma’am? I’m right here. Across from the footballing goddess you’re mentally undressing.

But no. She doesn’t even glance at you. Instead, she leans just a little closer to Alexia.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asks, voice velvety smooth.

Not you two. Not you both. Just her.

You sit back, watching, waiting.

Alexia, blissfully unaware of the blatant disrespect happening before your eyes, hums in thought. “We’ll have a bottle of Château Latour 2009,” she says, pronouncing it effortlessly, like she didn’t spend twenty minutes last night reading about Bordeaux wines on the internet. “And two glasses.”

The waitress nods, still maintaining laser focus on Alexia, as if you’re not sitting directly across from her.

Alexia turns to you, finally pulling you into existence. “Baby, do you want something else?”

Oh. Now you exist.

You pick up your menu, pretending to consider your options. “Yes,” you say, voice smooth as silk. You turn directly to the waitress, who is still refusing to meet your gaze.

“I think we should start with the foie gras with black truffle and…” You let the pause stretch just to force her to acknowledge you. “The gold-leaf caviar.”

Alexia hums approvingly. “Good choice.”

She looks back at the waitress. “We’ll take that as well.”

The waitress scribbles the order down, still only looking at Alexia.

Your eye twitches.

Alexia leans back, sipping her water, completely at ease. “It’s nice here, huh?”

You exhale slowly, gripping your napkin. “Mmm.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you say, setting your menu down with an exaggerated smile. “Nothing at all.”

Her smirk is soft, effortless. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She takes another sip of water, watching you with curiosity. Meanwhile, the waitress is at another table, distributing eye contact like it’s not a limited resource.

You glance back at Alexia. “I just think it’s fascinating how I’m sitting right here and yet, somehow, I am a ghost. Very paranormal. Someone should call the Vatican.”

Alexia nods, completely serious. “Yeah, ghosts are real, you know.”

You blink. “What?”

She gestures vaguely. “There was this documentary I watched—”

You groan. “Alexia, focus.”

Her lips twitch. “I am focused.”

“Not on paranormal activity. On the waitress ignoring me.”

Alexia frowns, glancing toward the waitress. “Is she?”

You stare at her. “Are you kidding?

She shrugs. “I mean, I guess she’s been looking at me a lot, but people do that.”

Oh. Oh, that’s rich.

“People do that,” you mimic, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Must be so hard being beautiful and famous.”

Alexia chuckles, reaching for your hand across the table. “Baby, are you jealous?”

You scoff. “Jealous? No.”

Her smirk deepens. “You so are.”

“First of all, I don’t get jealous,” you lie, crossing your arms. “Second, I just think both guests should be acknowledged at a table.”

“Mmm.”

“That’s just basic manners.”

Alexia bites her lip, amused. “You want me to ask her to make eye contact with you?”

“Don’t you dare.”

She laughs, lifting your hand to her lips. “You’re adorable when you’re like this.”

“I’m furious.”

“I know,”she teases, squeezing your fingers. “But I like it.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, do you?”

“Very much.”

The waitress returns with the wine, pouring it smoothly into two glasses. She hands Alexia hers first, of course, smiling like she’s about to ask for her autograph.

Then she places yours down without looking at you.

Oh. Oh, it’s war now.

You inhale sharply.

Alexia, fully enjoying the show, clinks her glass against yours. “To being the most beautiful, most important person in this restaurant.”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you toasting to yourself?”

She shakes her head, tilting her glass toward you. “No, baby. To you.”

You blink. And just like that, all your irritation dissolves into a flustered mess.

Damn her.

[random-warframe-thoughts]

Wait

waitwaitwait I know that song! I have it in my spotify...

It's the Unquiet Grave

Later edit for posterity: To be clear, The Unquiet Grave is an old folk song vaguely attributed to the British Isles that was first written down in the 1860's. This just happens to be the version I personally have on my Spotify.

[ghsttk]

private lessons.

Scenario: Where your biology teacher, Johnny Depp, helps you to improve your bad grades.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding (maybe), slight mention of age gap, creampie, cheating (Johnny is married)

Word count: 1.8k

a/n: I know this is quite cliche, but I love this kind of prompt so.. fuck it, the profile is mine, I post whatever I want KKMKLKK. English is not my first language, reader is not a minor.

“Come on, it is not that hard, try again.” Mr Depp insisted, his hand on your left shoulder. You had lost count of how many times he asked you to try again. You were in the empty classroom with him, your stern biology teacher. He asked you to wait until after class since your grades were quite low in his subject. Johnny took off his glasses and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You felt helpless because you did not understand the open book right in front of you. He was trying to teach you a few subjects that might be present on entrance exams, the first and actual one was the Reproductive System.

“Mr Depp, I can’t” You sighed, giving up for the third time. “Yes, you can. Reread it.” He insisted once more, pointing at the sentence in the old book. He exhaled tiredly, his grip on your shoulder tightening briefly before releasing it. “Let's have a small break, hm?” He patted your back and crossed his arms, looking away. The golden glint on his finger caught your attention, Mr Depp never mentioned a wife before — but he wasn't the type to even mention his personal life during classes. Though the thought of him marrying someone else made you somehow jealous.

He noticed your curious stare on his ring, rolling his eyes at the mere reminder of his unbearable wife. Johnny walked to his desk, sat down, and placed his glasses on the desk. His hands dragged down his face, exhausted. “What are you looking at?” He grumbled, being the usual stern type he was. You just watched him. “I didn't know that you're married.” You said softly, afraid of raising your tone with him. He huffed and played with the ring, twisting and sliding it on his finger, a mannerism he got as soon as he married. “It's not something I'm proud of” He muttered, as if the words slipped freely from his lips. You tilted your head, confused. “What do you mean?” 

Why is Johnny unproud of his marriage? It’s a big accomplishment in life. And since Johnny never spoke about his love life in classes, unlike other teachers, he was satisfied with it… wasn’t he?

“My wife,” He exhaled heavily. “She has been rather distant. I suspect she has found someone else.” He rubbed his eyes and put his glasses back on. It was clear that his relationship with his wife had taken a toll on him, mentally and physically. Your lips frowned sympathetically, noticing how tired your teacher was. “I’m sorry you must deal with that, Mr Depp…” You leaned forward on your seat, watching him. Seeing your usually stoic teacher this exhausted made you feel something, like a feminine impulse to comfort him.

“Don’t be, I shouldn’t be talking about this with a student. Are you done with your break?” He looked up at you. You stood up hesitantly, your eyes locked on his. “You must feel so.. lonely, without your wife's companion..” You said, hands unquiet. Johnny's eyebrows twitched, reluctant, but he nodded. “I-... Yes, I suppose it feels.” His eyes stayed on yours, like a hunter watching his prey. With slow steps, you stood next to him. Johnny was still sitting on his chair. Your eyes traveled his face, mapping every contour and detail, admiring. His serious gaze was rather exciting, it made you feel obligated to please him.

“You must be missing a feminine touch, right?” You whispered like your subconscious was talking for you. Johnny's expression remained stern, as if internally questioning his morals until a smirk appeared. “Oh, I am, ain't I?” He looked up and down at you, he knew what you were trying to do and he was slowly giving in. You tentatively placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning closer. “Trying to get a more hands-on lesson, puppy?” He asked in a low voice, teasing you with a wider smirk. His tone made you shiver, you were completely under his spell. Johnny's hands slowly moved to your waist, his thumbs caressing your sides.

“Puppy?” You asked. “Yes, you're my puppy.” He pulled you up and placed you on the edge of his desk. “You want a lesson, huh? Let's see if you get it this time.” He attacked your lips, swallowing your gasps. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging his long strands. His tongue possessed your mouth, claiming every inch of it. You slid your tongue against his tentatively, earning a stroke on your thighs from him.

You felt his fingers ghostly brushing towards the center, feeling the damp heat on the thin fabric of your panties. “Let's start with the female genitalia” He broke the kiss, looking down to your lap. Johnny's fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, gently pulling it down your ankles. He licked his fingertips before sliding a finger up your slit, feeling your wetness. He bit his lower lip, nodding in approval. Once he coated his fingers in your arousal, he brought them to his lips, tasting you. Johnny hummed, sucking his fingers. His cock throbbed in its confines.

A pop echoed through the empty classroom as he removed his fingers from his mouth, he dipped them between your legs and started to list. “Here are the labia majora” His fingers stroked your bigger pussy lips and you shivered in anticipation. “Here the inner ones” His thumb brushed against your sticky slit. He slides his thumb between your labia minora, dragging it up towards your clit. “Your urethra is located around here and…” Johnny trailed off as his fingertip reached your small bundle of nerves. “-And this little thing is your clitoris.” He rubbed tight circles against it, pressing his thumb to stimulate you.

“Oh, look how it swells…” He whispered praisingly, biting a smirk. “You like it, don’t you, little one?” He taunted, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “Stimulating this cute little thing will make you aroused, and shortly soon become wet.” He kissed your neck twice, his lips lingering on your skin. His fingertips traveled down your pussy.

“And here, my pet. Here is the main attraction.” He teasingly stroked the entrance of your vagina, pretending to slide in but never doing it. You whined, eyes pleading to him to have mercy and just give in. “Shh… Once wet enough, it becomes easier to penetrate the vagina.” He slid two fingers inside, slightly curling them to caress your insides. Johnny started pumping his fingers in and out steadily, his satisfied grin widening as he noted your body responses. 

“Did you get it?” He whispered and kissed your temple. You moaned so softly, his fingers felt good, a lot better than your own. He buried his fingers deeper and tried again, stroking your inner walls mercilessly. “Did you get it, pup?” He teased and you nodded, another moan escaping your lips.

He removed his fingers, briefly sucking them again before unbuckling his belt. “Now, let's move to the male genitalia.” He unzips his tailored pants. “And then I’ll explain more of the whole process.” He winked, letting his pants fall. Your eyes were fixed on his hands as he pulled his boxers down just enough to free himself, his thick, veiny manhood standing hard and proud. You were really going to have sex with your teacher, a man almost twice your age.

Johnny wrapped his hand around the base of his length and started to point out. He cupped his balls with his other hand, careful yet with a certain custom. “These are the testicles, they are responsible for making sperm and are also producing testosterone” His hands moved up. “This is the shaft, as you can see.. and here, on the top, the glans” His thumb brushed the head of his cock. Your eyes watched every movement, horny and somewhat eager. Your hand reached to touch him, his amused smirk told you that you were allowed to. He released a shaky gasp as you touched his sensitive tip, already dripping precum.

“Feel it, puppy, look how excited I am for you” He whispered. Johnny brushes his thumb over his tip, collecting his precum before shoving it in your mouth, his other fingers cupping your chin. “Taste it, yeah..” He breathed, his other hand guiding his member towards your entrance. With gentle pushes, and the help of your drooling pussy, he easily slid in. Johnny groaned, your tightness enveloping his cock like a velvet glove. “Shit, that's it.” He cursed under his breath, pushing it all inside. “Now, I will fuck this pretty pussy and then fill your little womb with my semen, put a baby in you.” He warned with a malicious grin “And you will love every second of it.” Johnny started slow but it didn't take long for him to slam his hips against yours, not caring about the unholy skin slapping sound echoing through the room. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the need to hold yourself onto something before your body gave into the pleasant sensation of his cock stroking your insides.

You tried to keep your eyes open, but everything felt so good. Johnny chuckled between grunts, seeing you struggling. “You're doing great, you're such a quick learner, pup” He praised, leaning to kiss you. He swallowed your moans and whimpers, hitting the head of his cock each time deeper inside of you. Johnny reached your chest with one of his hands, hastily ripping the buttons of your shirt open, freeing at least one breast. “Those are important as well, they'll produce milk to feed your baby, once you get pregnant.” He squeezed your nipple tightly, making you whine in pleasure.

You wrapped your wobbly legs around his waist, keeping him there — as if he ever wanted to leave. One of his hands sneaked between your legs, teasing your clit. “When you feel it, don't hold it, hear me?” He ordered. “I want you to be a good girl and fall apart on my cock.” Johnny quickened his pace, his free hand gripping your thigh so tight that might leave a mark later. And you felt it coming, the unmistakable feeling already pooling in your belly. Johnny whispered a few more encouraging phrases in your ear, a stark contrast between his gentle words and his rough thrusts, leading you to the fall. You melted in his arms, drenching his length. He followed you, almost instantly, flooding your insides, painting them white.

Johnny slowed his movements, looking into your eyes. “You did so well, puppy” He kissed your forehead. You looked back at him, panting. “I think I'll get at least B on your test, sir” You chuckled breathlessly. “Oh, you'll certainly do well, sweetheart. Get that B and I will give you my D as a reward” He winked, kissing you one last time.

Suddenly, a loud alarm interrupted your moment. Actually, interrupted everything, since you woke up in the classroom with everyone gathering their things to leave. You had slept during Mr Depp’s class. When standing up, your eyes locked with Johnny's. He let out an amused chuckle and shook his head.

"You'll need private lessons, pup.”

a/n: I apologize if something is written wrong, I did not proofread this and I unfortunately don't have biology classes anymore lol.

taglist: @drugs-and-daddyissues @iwnterlude

-- If you want to be tagged, just dm me!

[beggars-opera]

Since we’re all talking plagiarism this week I love folk music and the complete lack of ownership. I love that there’s like ten different versions of Spanish Ladies because every country wanted its own personalized version. I love how the same character can show up in a dozen songs. I love how The Unquiet Grave sometimes uses the same tune as Star of the County Down for some reason. I love the Wild West of music

[barrel-crow-n]

What if Kaz joined Sturmhond's crew

Listen, hear me out.

Kaz is bored as fuck in Rule of Wolves. That's so obvious. He built an underground tunnel under half the city, he expanded Dregs territory, he bought a new gambling parlour, he upgraded the Crow Club. He steals things for fun. But it's getting so boring.

"What are you without your vengance" "What will you do when there are no more scores to settle?" Kaz's whole life has been about revenge, and now that Pekka is gone, he doesn't know what to do with himself. This was made clear in both show and book (the quotes above) when the Jordie hallucination and Inej both ask him what he will do when there's no more revenge to exact. He never really thought about it but now his revenge is done. It's completed. Early. Kaz mentions how he was going to use his haul to start a new gang and destroy Pekka, but he clearly never thought it would be so soon. Now, he doesn't know what to do. He's rich. He's the king of the Barrel. He's got his gang. There is nothing left to do.

There's nothing in Ketterdam left to occupy him. He wants to be the king of it, and he loves the city, but he's bored out of his skull. So he goes on a voyage. He leaves his lieutenant in charge, and his gang have orders to continue terrorising the Barrel whilst he's gone, but Kaz personally slips away onto the sea. With Nikolai.

I chose Nikolai and not Inej because of how similar Kaz and Nikolai are. Nikolai slips away from his kingly duties, Kaz from his. Nikolai has an unquiet mind, so does Kaz. They both love to put on a show and a disguise and Nikolai's reputation on the sea is pretty ruthless. He fed a guy's fingers to a dog. Kaz would love that. Also when Inej finds out he went on the sea but on a ship that isn't hers it'll be funny. Do you see my vision?

[eelhound]

"In a famous scene in Book 6 of 'The Iliad,' Andromache, accompanied by her baby son and enslaved nurse, begs her husband, the great Trojan warrior Hector, to adopt a less dangerous military strategy, rather than face the enemy on the open plain. He refuses, and they part for the last time. In the original Greek, the wife and husband each use the same word to address one another: 'daimonios.' The word is cognate with 'daimōn' — 'spirit' or 'deity' (from which we get the English 'demon') — and presumably suggests, in its most literal sense, that a person is influenced by some superhuman power. Yet it is surprisingly common in Homer, generally used when one individual addresses another. It is sometimes taken to suggest little more than 'Sir' or 'Ma’am'; sometimes the context suggests it is negative ('possessed' or 'crazy'), sometimes the opposite ('You marvelous person!').

Many translators of this scene use different renditions of the word in the two instances. In Lattimore, Andromache calls Hector 'Dearest,' while he calls her 'Poor Andromache!'; in Fagles, Andromache calls Hector 'Reckless one,' while Hector calls Andromache 'Dear one'; in Fitzgerald, Andromache uses 'Wild one,' and Hector uses 'Unquiet soul' (a lovely phrase lifted from Shakespeare’s 'Merchant of Venice' — although oral poetry does not abound in clever literary quotations). I felt it was important to use the same word for both the wife addressing the husband, and the husband addressing the wife, to echo the symmetry suggested in the original, and I used 'strange' in both instances ('strange man … strange woman,' echoing the different genders of the original). I hoped that this word might hint at the Greek term’s suggestion of something unusual, perhaps divine or inhuman. This heartbreaking scene evokes both deep intimacy and profound estrangement between husband and wife, one of whom will soon be dead and the other enslaved."

- Emily Wilson, from "Emily Wilson on 5 crucial decisions she made in her ‘Iliad’ translation." Washington Post, 20 September 2023.

[daughterofheartshaven]

Doctor Who - how Mary Shelly became a companion of the 8th Doctor but then later didn't recognize the 13th Doctor

This is in a series of Doctor Who expanded universe reconciliations. If you see a contradiction in the Doctor Who expanded universe, you can drop me an ask and I will come up with an explanation for it.

Ask by @silvermaple6

If you are not familar, in the Big Finish audios, Mary Shelly (yes the Frankenstein author) was briefly a companion of the Eighth Doctor, but later met the Thirteenth Doctor on tv in a way that made it clear that Shelly had never met the Doctor before and clearly assumed the Doctor had not met Shelly before either.

So shall we explain how that worked?

A quick list of stories I will be refrencing:

Tv:

The Haunting of Vilia Diodati: The tv episode where the Thirteenth Doctor meets Mary Shelly

The Unquiet Dead: The Ninth Doctor tv episode that first established the effects of the Last Great Time War

Human Nature / The Family of Blood: A Tenth Doctor two-part story that was an adaption of a Seventh Doctor novel

Not Tv:

Mary's Story: The first story where Mary Shelly becomes a companion of the Eighth Doctor. While it is not the only audio story to feature Shelly as a companion, it is the only one that is actually relevant to this discussion

Terror Firma: an Eighth Doctor story set after he travelled with Shelly

Lies in Ruins: An audio story featuring the Eighth Doctor towards the very end of his life during the Last Great Time War.

Human Nature: A Seventh Doctor novel that was adapted into a Tenth Doctor tv episode

Shadow of a Doubt: A two-minute video published during the Doctor Who Lockdown events, starring Bernice Summerfield. You can watch it on youtube right here, and I recommend you do so - it's pretty good and also the crux of my argument.

The Book of the War: the first book of the Faction Paradox series and one of my favorite things to cite in an argument like this.

Okay I don't know if this would be fun for anyone else, but if this were me, I would totally look over the stories and try to guess what the arguments would be. Now is your chance to do that if you want. Also I should disclaimer in here that I continue to assume the Last Great Time War and Faction Paradox's War in Heaven are the same conflict, although that's not really that important to my overall argument. A full justification for that assumption is still in the works.

Okay actual essay time.

So The Unquiet Dead established that the Last Great Time War rewrote a lot of history. And if you're thinking "well hang on is this just rewritten by the Time War" then yes that is my reason, but I also have a lot more evidence to back this up.

Time to talk about Human Nature.

So Human Nature was a book that was loosely adapted into a Tenth Doctor story. The two stories share only a central concept (the Doctor turns into human and the villains are family who want to steal his being-a-time-lord), a setting (England right before WWI), and a couple of crucial characters (Joan Redfern, Tim, and Hutchinson). Besides that, the two versions of the story are quite different.

One notable difference is the villains. In the book, we have the Aubertides - a family of six shapeshifting aliens with distinct personalities and motivations, but strong loyalty to each other. Over the course of the book most of them die, but some escape. The very first one to die is Aphasia - who at the time was disguised as little girl with a murderous balloon.

In the tv show, we have the Family of Blood - a family of four gaseous aliens who are much more united. At the end of the story, the Doctor captures all of them and imprisons them in various places. The youngest of the Family, the daughter, was imprisoned in a mirror along with the corpse she was possessing - a little girl with a balloon.

When the tv adaptation was first made, the Daughter having the same appearance of Aphasia was a simple nod to the fact that the Family of Blood was this version's version of the Aubertides. But Shadow of a Doubt made this whole situation much more interesting.

Shadow of a Doubt was written by Paul Cornell, author of both the original Human Nature and its adaptation, as well as the creator of Benny Summerfield, who was the companion of Human Nature. In it, Benny meets the Daughter trapped in the mirror and recognizes her as Aphasia. The Daughter denies being Aphasia, claiming that was a different her

This confirms three points:

both versions of Human Nature happened in the Whoniverse

both versions of Human Nature are telling the same story - there weren't just two extremely similar situations.

Aphasia and the Daughter are variations on each other

It's not clear exactly why two versions of the same events happened, but my best guess is the giant history-altering war that happened between the Seventh and Tenth Doctors, since it is the only event shown to do large amounts of rewriting of history.

The situation with Human Nature sets a precedent for analyzing this sort of situation, so I feel like that makes a decent case for Shelly's life to have been rewritten by the War.

But come on. I haven't even gotten to talk about any stories with Shelly in them yet.

So Mary's story is the first story with Shelly as a companion. It is also notable for featuring two different versions of the Eighth Doctor. We have Young Eight - this is the Doctor who Shelly begins travelling with - and Old Eight, who has fallen out of a great battle and is deeply injured. It is implied, but not confirmed, that Old Eight is from the era of the Time War. There is some further evidence for this - Old Eight namechecks companions by the name of Gemma, Charley, Ssard, Compassion, Trix, Destrii, Lucie, Alex, Todd, and Rita. All but the last two were established Eighth Doctor companions at the time of Mary's Story's release, but Todd and Rita were unknowns.

Roughly a decade later, Lies in Ruins comes out. It features the Eighth Doctor embroiled in the Time War, and introduces a companion named Ria. Ria is close enough to "Rita" that I believe Old Eight is referring to Ria in Mary's Story, which means for Old Eight, Mary's Story takes place after Lies in Ruins and so definitely in the Time War.

All of this is to prove that Shelly was at least tangentially involved in the Last Great Time War. Furthermore, she only one step removed from a minor wartime power - the Book of the War shows that Lord Byron would later become a recruit of Faction Paradox, a cult that (somewhat successfully) desired to set itself up as a third faction in the War.

So yeah, the changes of history in the War could totally have rewritten Mary Shelly's life specifically without specifically effecting much around her. So when she does not recognize the Doctor or any sci-fi concepts in The Haunting of Vilia Diodati, it is because he history in which Shelly travelled with the Doctor no longer existed.

As for why the Doctor did not recognize her, we have two options.

Firstly, it is possible that the Doctor's memories of this were lost when his memories were altered by Davros. Terror Firma reveals that Davros captured the Doctor and altered his memories of a specific point in his life - specifically Davros removed all memories of the Doctor's companions Samson and Gemma. Mary's Story, and the Doctor's travels with Mary Shelly, are explicitly set during a time in which the Doctor is on break from Samson and Gemma, so it is very possible that when Davros removed the Doctor's memories of Samson and Gemma, his memories of travelling with Shelly were also lost.

The other option is that the Doctor lost his memories of Shelly during the Time War. The Starship of Theseus (among many other stories) shows that while the Doctor can sometimes remember altered timelines, this is in no way a constant, with him remembering the new reality instead of the old one as the War creates it. So it is possible that the Doctor lost their memories of travelling with Shelly because the history those memories were created in was removed.

In any case, when Shelly and the Thirteenth Doctor come face to face, neither knows that in another life they were friends.

[rottendollface]

Sub-Zero Relationship Headcanons.

Character: Sub-Zero | Bi-Han.

Warnings: NSFW, fem!reader, abusive relationship, jealousy, mental and physical violence (both sides), unprotected sex, breeding kink, public execution, vorarephilia, blood drinking, mention of: foot fetish, organized terrorism and wars, cheating and substance addiction, pregnancy; Black Dragon imagined lore.

A/N: At first I was writing it as a big ass fic but I decided to switch into headcanons. That's why Y/N has her past and surname, and Black Dragon is mentioned here. It may look a bit complicated and messy but I hope you'll enjoy it ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

• Bi-Han loves his women of different sorts. The one, who has his true adoration and devotion, isn't someone he will bring to the Clan and call his wife. She is an opium addicted junkie from a brothel and she is his favored darling. 

Bi-Han doesn't need an equal partner. He needs a woman that understands her place and admits his authority, a woman that will become his comfort and will eagerly birth him heirs. Bi-Han won't try to impress her with courting and gifts, there will be no romantic atmosphere and gestures. His offer is simple: a proper upkeep for a strong body and impressive fertility. She needs to be smart enough to play dumb in his presence and service his sexual needs without shyness. Bi-Han is in search of a beautiful piece of meat. He wants to show his wife off on official meetings and then rest with her after a long day of stressful work. To his regret only the brothel whore is able to give him everything he wants, except one thing – a reputation. 

• It won't be his first marriage. In fact, it will be his third. Bi-Han treasures loyalty and he is known for his violent character: in Lin Kuei betrayal is an unforgivable sin. The whole family of a traitor gets executed in the worst way possible by Bi-Han personally, and a traitor is forced to watch the whole process before it's their turn. Their heads on pikes serve as a reminder to other recruits until another traitor shows up to replace them – and Bi-Han's wives aren't an exception. 

He doesn't see his little love journeys to the brothel as treachery though. In the awkward hands of his wives he feels unsatisfied. Bi-Han is a man of a great physique: he needs to be pleased regularly and passionately, or else his hidden treasure will step into the game. Yet laying with an addicted whore is a roulette – she will open her legs to everyone who pays for a hit. The spectrum of emotions Bi-Han feels about her can't be described with just words. It contains primal desire, hatred, contempt, love, pity and another hundred of different emotions Bi-Han didn't know existed. The magic she creates with her clouded wicked fantasy is striking better than any drug. Bi-Han is searching for a woman who will replace her. She isn't as lovely and seductive as she was before: with every visit, she looks more of a corpse. Dark patches and hemorrhages are covering her grayed skin, and her veins are destroyed by her new addiction. She disgusts Bi-Han so much he disdains to touch her.

• Once Bi-Han heard of a unique breed of women, born under the Hei family. Wicked by nature, they are the best wives and the most terrifying enemies: inborn vengefulness makes them quarrelsome and violent. Their unquiet mind and hedonistic nature are always seeking for pleasures, especially the carnal one's. Such a description excites his mind and makes him seek for the Family. This is how he finds you.

• Bi-Han isn't a dream partner but he is easy to deal with if playing by his rules and you don't have a right to choose. He sees you on a diplomatic mission to your clan and falls for you immediately: your quiet, mystical aura drags his attention. You are the panther hiding in the shadows: first, he sees your eyes, that are looking at him, glaring with wildfire of scorn and enmity. When his gaze meets yours, you dare to show up: you step out of the dark, showing him your glory. Your traditional black dress is open frivolously, showing him a lot but not enough. You walk away, your fine bare feet make light steps and leave no sound. It's obvious that you're on your mind, a sly witch with an untamed attitude. Bi-Han knows how to break women like you, and he desires to test your smug character. Just by the way you walk – lazily, swinging your hips and showing off the curves of your soles – he can tell how good and rather creative you are in bed. 

• Your father agrees to send you out of the mansion quickly. He doesn't listen for the rest of the offering even, as if your departure is already a great gift for him. Bi-Han is… surprised at the reaction. The old fool realizes that the Hei clan will come into Bi-Han's hands after his death due to the ancient and simple rule – no woman is allowed to become a Grandmaster – yet he is ready to give everything away so someone can take you away from him. 

It makes Bi-Han hesitate. No way you would keep your father at bay – how was it even possible? Yet he sends his servants to announce to you the great news that you are chosen as Lin Kuei Grandmaster's bride. 

• Bi-Han expected everything but not you closing the door in front of his servants. Fuss around your door and their confused faces (for sure they are scared for their lives) are making Bi-Han irritable. He's used to getting everything without delay and your writhing makes him angry. You don't even respond to the knocking at your door, so he has to come and knock himself. Then, after a couple of minutes, you deign to show yourself. 

Lazily, you lean on the door frame, hands crossed on your chest and a smug smile shines on your dark cherry lips, showing teeth with sharp cuspids. “A boy in his mid thirties doesn't know how to court a woman, and expects her to fall on her knees for him.” You say in a mocking tone, so full of yourself and not afraid for anything.

Bi-Han knows this type of person. A psychopathic abomination of a human that survived through the countless fights and lost sense of fear and respect for the ranks; the type of people that treated violence like some sort of amusement, not an instrument for intimidation and nurturing. In your cold cloudy eyes, painted in a cat's manner with eyeliner, Bi-Han sees nothing but vice and narcissistic conceit. You test him with your gaze, the same one you gave him before. Unexpectedly for him, it turns him on.

You open your lips slightly, a searching stare goes through his features, and your emotions are changing on lustful interest. You are coming to him, close enough for Bi-Han to feel your presence and the fragrance of pomegranate from your hair, but not enough to sense you physically. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes, the height difference makes it tempting: through the neckline of your dress he sees the perky chest and black lace of your bra. “Better luck next time.” You whisper, smiling sinisterly. 

You come to your room and close the door again. The change of your emotions leaves him thirsty for more. On the same day Bi-Han sends the best gifts to your mansion but you are displeased with everything. All he sees is your sour face with angrily furrowed brows that makes him think it is impossible to please you. He doesn't ask for tips and you aren't willing to ease his life. “I want more than this!” you say, throwing exclusive jewelry at him.

Normally Bi-Han would take you by force and end your life afterwards for this kind of attitude – he hates disobedient and ungrateful women. Yet with you he enjoys being treated this way. You leave him with a sense of hunger and obscurity, and he comes back every time to be rejected again and again.

• Loving you is the only torture Bi-Han succumbs to in his life willingly. You are like a storm: dark, misty and cold by nature, but beautiful and enticing. He steps in your rainfall, savoring the alienation mixed with attraction you give to him. Bi-Han finds the way to win your heart: he scouts about your enemies and brings their severed heads to you. These people aren't just crooks and small fries – they are top flight, and Bi-Han can only muse about how they fell out of favor. He comes to you while you are changing your dress. You come to him to inspect what he had brought you this time. Dressed in an overbust corset, lacey panties and stockings with straps you aren't bothered by shyness. On the right part of your body, starting from the hip and till the middle of the thigh, there is a black tattoo of a snake in flowers – Bi-Han can swear he has seen this kind of design already, but he can't remember who was wearing it. 

He shakes the heads out of the bag and they fall under your feet. Without disgust, you step on one of them with your bare foot and turn it over to see the face. Then you smile widely, realising that all of the cadavers belong to your list.

• Lin Kuei meets you with whispers and speculations. You are not the same as the others: you step onto this land confidently, as if you are owning everything in here, including the Grandmaster himself. Your smile is sly and your gaze is cunning. Bi-Han realizes he knows nothing about you. Your past, your present and your future are murky. Your identity fits into the portrait of your family perfectly. Keeping you close is like holding a lit bomb without the option to drop it.

•  You keep playing on his nerves. You bask him with affection only to cast him off discourteously after. You laugh at his face and devalue everything he does for you but show gratitude with actions. You are fondling him to get violent later, scratch him till blood and punch him, leave bruises at his skin. If he dares to grab you the same way you do – you provoke him to go rougher, to mutilate and kill you, spitting lies and portraying him as a monster, exaggerating his deeds into absurd with your words. You are a mad woman but he wants you in all your states and prays to find you in a good mood, as he feels his addiction to you.

You deny him physical contact for as long as you want, don't even let him touch you. You are disgusted by his kisses, you hit his hand when he tries to take your palm and escape from his embrace. Bi-Han feels like nonentity but doesn't dare to force you into his touch. He wants to play the same game with you but he just can't: Bi-Han misses you constantly, and touching you is a reward he secretly lives for. 

When he goes to missions you are inspiring him. The way you use your tongue can't be copied by any other woman: you kill and cure with your words, you are blurring the lines between humiliation and praise. The power you hold over him induces Bi-Han on new achievements and conquests. Countless numbers of his enemies are dead because of the trust you had put into him. You destroy and trample his personality but you never question his fighting skill – admitting and worshipping his power, you show proper respect to his warrior side. Your love is his disease. Bi-Han knows: deep inside your rotten soul you care a great love for him, you just don't show it. 

• You have your own… needs. Unexpectedly for Bi-Han you possess blood magic. The power has its side effect – vampirism. Your blood isn't enough to cease the famine that awakens from time to time. With Bi-Han looming in front of you, you can't resist your desire: your eyes target delicious outlines of his tense vessels full of cold blood. His cryomancy has side effects as well: some of them are coldness of body fluids and low fertility, which makes it hard for him to impregnate you. 

You eye him as prey. Bi-Han is a perfect container of blood and fresh meat, eating from him won't bring you any infections. You imagine sinking your teeth into his neck and sucking his blood brutally, your jaw twitches in anticipation. You know how to lure him into your plan – sex makes him an easy target; you are sure, once you have Bi-Han pounding into you, he won't be against your teeth tearing his skin up. You are building your plan step by step. After intimacy you are studying the course of his veins, bringing your mouth to them and licking protruding parts, your tongue circles the bumps that are dangerously close to your canines. You like to lick on his neck, feeling his arteries pumping up with essential fluid. You let him get used to your strange affection. Bi-Han sees it as a specific way of appreciation from your side, not ready to admit that you want to drink his blood.

You are seducing him more and more. He knows this state of yours. Your stare gets unusually soft and alluring. You call for him with all your essence, bite your lips from eagerness. Bi-Han loves having sex with you. You lack any shyness and fuck as if it is your last day on earth. You are open to try new things and adapt to his fetishes, whether it is strocking his cock with your feet and rubbing his cum into the cloth, or emptying a full condom into your freshly fucked hole. Despite his low fertility, Bi-Han uses a condom only to see you taking it off during sex. Your readiness to be filled with his cum arouses him to the point his cock starts leaking. 

Kisses with you are mind blowing: you lick his lips first, then he bites at your tongue, sucking it inside his mouth. Your lips meet at the point, initiating a wet kiss, with saliva drooling on both of your chins. You bite his lips and tongue, hugging Bi-Han by his neck and bringing him closer to yourself. Bi-Han is attracted to you so much he breaks kisses only to lick your face like some kind of animal, till it becomes all wet. You are as eager as he is: your palms are wandering on his chest, creeping down on his pants and squeezing the sensitive bulge. You outline the contours of his erected member and start rubbing under a sensitive tip, extending your touch down on its shaft. 

It never ends with just one position. Your favorite are doggy and cowgirl: when taking you from behind, Bi-Han keeps you by your wrists, pulling you on his cock roughly; when you get on top of him, riding him lustily, you have a perfect access to his chest, your fingers trailing it down, leaving red traces with protruding blood droops from your nails. Your cunt spasms as you see it, your initial impulse is to bite him but you keep denying yourself. Before he cums, you lean to him, waiting for the right moment. Your cunt puts greater pressure on his cock, sucking it in and tightening around his length until you feel it throbbing and the first shot of cum hitting your walls. Exactly at this moment you bite into his shoulder, blood rushing into your mouth and running down on the sheets. Bi-Han grunts but keeps you closer, letting you drink as much as you need. His hands are covered with new scars, left by your teeth, but Bi-Han is okay with it.

• When his brothers leave, you become his only ally. Bi-Han expects to be treated the same way as before but you quit your games and provide him proper support. You see the family tragedy by yourself: when Liu Kang recruits Lin Kuei to help the Earthrealm resist against Quan Chi and Shang Tsung, you take the part in the plan unwittingly. Liu Kang and his minions aren't happy to see you – and they expose your past as if you should be ashamed of it. 

Black Dragon special squad; soldier Viper – that was your name before you left the clan and started a civilian life. There was no tragedy behind your retirement, you just grew out of the concept. Explosions, gunfights somewhere in the Eastern deserts, drug and organ traffic are cool when you are young. By your age you want to settle down and live a life of a happy woman. Your boss, Kano, still waits for you to change your mind and come back. You receive his calls from time to time and have a small chit-chat. Bi-Han is visibly perplexed by the news, but you don't realize the reason for such a strange emotion. For someone who has never shown interest in your past, he is overreacting, you are sure.

“You know, in Black Dragon we don't leave our comrades no matter the dispute.” This is the only salty thing you let yourself say to Bi-Han. He ignores it so you keep silent for the rest of the period of his internal healing. 

• You get softer with years you spend with Bi-Han. While your arrogance steps aside, his paranoia and violative tendencies against you are rising up. He doesn't trust you: Bi-Han suspects you in collusion with Scorpion and he is searching for proof of his fantasies. He becomes possessive over you, and your usual treatment over him causes Bi-Han to punch you. Your strategy doesn't work anymore: once you tell him to get rougher and he breaks your legs as a punishment. The fight with no victor follows – it is an act of mutual violence, when both competitors just want to hurt each other.

You end up being injured worse than him yet you show him like you feel no pain at all –  you keep smiling while bleeding out. Behind the nasty bravado hides fear and realization that another fight can be fatal. Your new routine starts at this point. You didn't notice how you got stuck in a swamp. Now it is you seeking to meet Bi-Han in a good mood, or else you will have a new bruise. You can't leave – and you don't want to. Your thoughts and decisions are complicated. You believe that everything will come back to normal after some time. 

• Bi-Han is jealous of other men. He doesn't let you leave your room without his or maid's escort. Your route is restricted and includes female quarters, his cabinet and a shared bedroom. You are not allowed to sleep alone anymore, as Bi-Han needs to control you during night hours. Bi-Han's heavy hand keeps you close while he sleeps, and he wakes up with your every move. You have everything you might need on the bedside table: water, napkins, wet wipes, some snacks (you are not allowed to leave the bed if you wake up earlier than him) and a book. You bathe together as well: he hugs you while you sit on his lap and rest your head on his shoulder. Bi-Han demands you to touch him: play with his hair or stroke his skin. 

• His tastes in intimacy changed as well. Bi-Han isn't interested in your consent, he takes you whenever he wants to. Your resistance arouses him even more: Bi-Han wrings your hands easily and gropes every part of you. You have to get wet – just to ease the process for yourself. Such behavior makes you lose all interest in sex, so you are imitating it for his happiness. Bi-Han is addicted to the fragrance of pomegranate and cherry coming from your hair, and olibanum on your skin. Arousing in the past, the way he buries his nose in your neck and chest  to inhale your scent, now is scaring you. Your smell is heavy and suffocating in its richness, Bi-Han can't help but to inhale the sweet intoxication coming from your body and lose his head over you again and again. He bites you till bruises show up, his cold-dead fingers squeeze your curves so hard it still aches a few days after intimacy. He presses you into the mattress with his weight, trapping under his body, so you lay still and play obedient while Bi-Han forces himself into your unprepared tight cunt. He grabs your neck, chill running down your spine as frost cripples on your skin. He feels your fear, and he appreciates the sacrifice you make for him: his lowest, animalistic parts came into the game when the family broke apart. Bi-Han feeds on your emotions, he wants you to show him the spectrum of pain and despair. His sadistic dream is to see you cry, while he cums inside you, dominating your body and proving for another time that it belongs to him.

• You are free to bite him however you want and have as much blood as you need, but you stopped drinking from him. Bi-Han takes you to public executions to awaken your bloodlust, but you don't seem to enjoy it. Watching another human being reduced to the bag of flesh and bones with blood staining every inch of the execution yard doesn't thrill your soul anymore. Your body is in a sleeping state, waiting for the hazardous winter of Bi-Han's soul to calm down. You can't function properly anymore but he keeps calling for a hunter inside you: Bi-Han cuts himself raw and brings the bleeding wounds close to your face to feed you. Such a rough manipulation makes you succumb to his will, and you force yourself to taste his blood, afraid of his generosity. Bi-Han wants you to need him, inspires you to think that you depend on him. 

•  One day you make him happy with your long awaited pregnancy. It is a great opportunity for Bi-Han to prove to you how weak and dependent you are. He gives you a taste of better medicine: he treats you better than before but doesn't let you forget what is waiting for you in case you seek disfavor. You become so careful you are afraid to speak freely: you don't want any stress to harm your baby. And Bi-Han is happy he can manipulate you through the child. 

[micamicster]

Country Girl Blue Sargent

I hit the highway in a pink RV with stars on the ceiling

One True Love - The O'Kanes / Gravedigger - Willie Nelson / Marie Laveau - Bobby Bare / Closer to Fine - Indigo Girls / That Don't Impress Me Much - Shania Twain / Blowin' Smoke - Kacey Musgraves / Coat of Many Colors - Dolly Parton / Wide Open Spaces -The Chicks / I Wish I Was the Moon - Neko Case / The Lucky One - Alison Krauss / Passionate Kisses - Mary Chapin Carpenter / Love Will Turn You Around - Kenny Rogers / I'll Be Your Baby Tonight - Linda Ronstadt / Orphan Girl - Emmylou Harris/ Shut Up and Drive - Chely Wright / Help Me Make It Through the Night - Willie Nelson / Alibi - Hurray for the Riff Raff / Share the Moon - Indigo Girls / Something to Talk About - Bonnie Raitt / What's Your Mama's Name? - Tanya Tucker / The Unquiet Grave - Joan Baez / Boulder to Birmingham - Emmylou Harris / Landslide - The Chicks / Light of a Clear Blue Morning - Dolly Parton / On the Road Again - Willie Nelson / The Long Way Around - The Chicks

Country Boy? Dick Gansey

It's a mighty dark night and I made that drive, but I'll never get out of your love alive

Delta Dawn - Tanya Tucker / Southern Nights - Glen Campbell / Seven Year Ache - Rosanne Cash / Are You Ready for the Country? - Neil Young / Garden Party - Rick Nelson & the Stone Canyon Band / The Waiting - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers / Everybody Knows - The Chicks / Blue - LeAnn Rimes / Long Black Veil - Johnny Cash / Walkin' After Midnight - Patsy Cline / I Take My Chances - Mary Chapin Carpenter / Share the Moon - Indigo Girls / Something About What Happens When We Talk - Lucinda Williams / Valentine's Day - Bruce Springsteen / 'Til I'm too Old to Die Young - Moe Bandy / Easy Silence - The Chicks / It's Not Supposed to Be That Way - Waylon Jennings / Raise the Dead - Linda Ronstadt & Emmylou Harris / I’ll Go to My Grave Loving You - The Statler Brothers / Hang Me - Peggy Seeger / My Life - Iris DeMent / Those Memories of You - Trio / Oh What a Beautiful World - Rodney Crowell / Shenandoah - Bruce Springsteen / Our Town - Iris DeMent

Obviously we are taking a broad view of country music and one heavily influenced by my personal tastes blah blah but as always please understand that while these playlists may not be definitive, they are 100% Correct <3

Ronan and Adam's playlists

[eclipsecrowned]

3, 8, 12 // @cuileandorcha

3. What rp trends are you so over and can’t wait for it to die?

Leans in real close. Y'all are part of a community. Y'all actively chose to pursue a hobby that requires collaboration and OOC interaction. Y'all purposely decided to make a blog, reach out over the worldwide web to find strangers who have done the same.

Y'all do not get to be surprised or outraged that these strangers do not align with you 100%.

In fact, there are statistically many strangers who do not agree with your views, your comfort, and your standards. You have to enforce your own boundaries. They are your personal lines in the sand, and you have to draw them, whether as close or distant as you please.

I think pr0 and 4nti discourse is so much bullshit for that reason. Wanna write something? Fucking neato you can do that and block whoever doesn't like it. Don't want to see something? Fucking neato you can block entire tags on this site. Want to write the most fucked up shit imaginable in your own little corner of the internet that oversteps my personal boundary? Wild, I'm going to block you. Want to virtue signal over the dude writing fucked up shit in their corner of the internet when no one is getting hurt but fictional characters? Wild, I'm going to block you. What other people are doing is not your war to fight and if it is something that bleeds into harassment in any form congratulations the site has tools to let staff handle that.

Like I get it, there's parts of me that are reactionary and want some subjects to never be touched by people who want to dig around in what is to me a very raw wound. Then I just listen to my inner Dr. Furter in that it was not made for me. I am one idiot screaming into the void of the internet. My outrage is better spent elsewhere. So is everyone else's. This shit keeps coming back every few years under new names and I am. Tired. I need it to go back to its unquiet grave again.

8. Are you good at dealing with personal problems?

Stares deadass at you.

I stayed friends with S[REDACTED] and K[REDACTED] for how long before it imploded? No.

12. Has someone in the rp community ever made you upset/cry?

This is so cringe but like in a non upset way my ex straight up made me cry over a thread in like a cathartic 'I can really feel for the characters rn this is so sad,' so many years ago. Uhh I think I cried a little when I had to cope with the Big Incident in old C0D fandom with the kids, you know the one. Rage cried once when S[redacted] shut me down with a 'lol that makes me want to commit sudoku' because who in the FUCK does that.

[honourablejester]

More Starfinder Cool Creatures

I recently acquired Alien Archives 3 & 4, so I had a browse through to see what other weird and wonderful space fantasy creatures the Starfinder universe might have to offer.

I’m going to divide these into three broad categories, because there’s a couple of themes to my preferences. Heh. First, we have space undead. Because I just deeply enjoy space undead. Then we’ve got a loose cluster of what I’m going to call space hazards/space ecologies, creatures that inhabit the void of space and make life interesting for spacers. And finally we just have a grab-bag of more random planetary and weird beasties.

Space Undead

I deeply, deeply enjoy Starfinder’s sheer range of space undead. Because the elemental terrors of the void leading to uniquely fucked up deaths and resulting unquiet souls is deeply satisfying to my space horror loving soul.

Endling. Endlings are basically the ghosts of extinct species trying to wreak vengeance on whatever they believe brought about their end, ghostly vengeance on a species level. There’s a planet in the Veskarium that was aggressively mined out, obliterating the native ecology, and the capital city is now menaced by what are essentially spectral ghost pigs. Which is amazing.

Itmi Vruh. Okay. So we know I deeply enjoy space undead. And we know I deeply enjoy the scary end of FTL and hyperspace travel. The Itmi Vruh are the perfect fusion of those two space horrors. When a ship tries to perform a jump into the Drift and something goes wrong, rather than throwing the whole ship out or crashing, sometimes the ship makes it through, but the souls of several people onboard don’t, and are sucked out to blunder around the Drift, leaving their bodies inexplicably dead behind them. Itmi Vruh want those bodies back, and if they happen upon other ships in the Drift, they will attempt to possess people on them. So there’s two fantastic spacer horror tales to be afraid of: that the Drift will suck out your soul if you jump wrong, and that the fucking resultant space ghosts from hyperspace will possess you even if you make it safely in. Absolutely fantastic. Love it.

Vorthuul. Vorthuul are undead left behind by people who got sucked into a black hole, and they’re formed of two elements: a super dense obsidian skeleton overlaid by a screaming spectral form. Kasathan mystics think that these are in fact two separate quantum spirits formed when the forces of the event horizon fucking bent time and space so that two versions of the same person got overlaid together, one being horrifically stretched and screaming in agony, the other being crushed by gravity into infinite density. So you get two torturous deaths for the price of one! Any ship, station or observation post that passes too close to a black hole, even if it avoids being sucked in, might get invaded by one or more of these tormented things, like hideous avatars of the inimical force waiting to devour us all. They are so cool. Horrifying, obviously. But so cool.

Space Ecology/Hazards

There is something about imagining creatures that live in the void that is just … extremely happy-making to me. These are all creatures that kind of create an ecology in the emptiness of space. And/or creatures that create hazards in space, things that make the already-terrifying void and vacuum even more dangerous in interesting ways. These aren’t planetary sorts of dangers, they’re things you encounter in starships. Or inside stars. Or on space stations. And I love them.

Dawn Beetle. They’re giant iridescent solar dung beetles who dig around for debris inside the middle layers of stars to make giant heat-resistant junk balls that eventually are drawn back down to the core of the star to be used as a hatchery for future dawn beetles. If there is no debris (eg asteroids, shipwrecks, etc) inside the star, they sometimes try to ride solar flares out into the universe beyond, usually winding up stranded. They’re just delightfully weird, beautiful, funky little guys. They also hang around the Burning Archipelago of bubble cities in the surface of the Pact Worlds’ sun, which is one of my favourite locations in the setting.

Giant Space Tardigrade. It is a tardigrade. The size of a starship. It’s a titanic lumbering space bear-bug that is trying very hard to eat your starship, because there’s not a lot of food in the void of space and it’s very hungry. They’re extraordinarily tough, and they have personalities, varying from vengeful to playful, if usually still rather destructive even when trying to be friendly. They’re a fantastic combination of adorable and deeply aggravating, and just a fantastic thing to exist.

Kaion. I love the Diaspora as a location so much. The asteroid belt is home to so many of my favourite things in this setting. Here, they’re starship eating metallic space molluscs with bioelectricity and biomagnetism and weapons that function as basically railgun harpoons where they use their magnetic fields to launch hardened bodyparts at prey and draw them back via the same biomagnetism. I love when space ecology gets weird.

Lurker in Light. Evil space fey that are invisible in light and hunt in places like high tech cities and space stations and starships that are basically perpetually lit up. They’re sadistic little fuckers who like to hunt and hurt people, and to find them to make them stop often involves having to power down whole damned sections of the city/station/ship to force them into the open. Which. On a ship or a station. You have to turn off power in the void of space because an evil space fairy is hiding in the glare of the lights to hurt you. That is an excellent horror story right there. As they get older they become radioactive, which is just excessive, honestly. These are evil little things, and they’re excellent.

Shipkiller Bulb. They’re giant space plants that inhabit the ice rings of gas giants harvesting asteroids and ice for minerals and water while absorbing sunlight from the nearest star. Which is all fine, and another fantastic example of weird space ecology, but they’re called also shipkiller bulbs for a reason. And that reason is that they violently hate Drift travel, and if already starving when annoyed, they will violently attempt to tear an offending starship near them to pieces with tendrils and gravity attacks. If they successfully kill the ship, they’ll feed off the hull the same way they’d feed off an asteroid. They’re easy enough to take down with shipboard weaponry if you know they’re there in time, but if you didn’t see them before they absolutely lost their shit on top of you, you might be in for a bad time. I just. I deeply enjoy all these space hazards?

Voraija. Space whales! Different space whales to the previously-mentioned telepathic Omas. Voraija communicate via microwave radiation ‘songs’ that reverberate through starship hulls, can live up to a millennium, and follow long, meandering migratory paths looking for gas giants to birth their young inside. They can wreak absolute havoc on planetary communications systems and have been driven off as a result, and have also been hunted for use in biotech, resulting in some of the older individuals and pods holding powerful grudges. They’re just. I mean. They’re space whales. What more could a girl want?

Random Beasties

And then a final collection of just everything else that caught my eye.

Irokiroi. They’re just beautiful. Predatory sky-serpents with multiple gorgeous wing-fins from the toxic gas-moon of Osoro near Liavara, they’re absolutely deadly and absolutely gorgeous. They’ve recently been attacking a lot of settlements on the moon, possibly related to increasing ‘safari’ trips into the gas clouds stirring them up. Which is an excellent lesson on ecological non-interference, but they’re also so beautiful, so I can kinda understand. I would probably do something ill-advised and likely fatal to be able to see one too.

Kothama. These are less creatures and more people, so arguably shouldn’t be on this list, but they’re seriously enchanting, so I made an exception. They’re 18ft tall multi-legged shaggy ice bear-trolls that are completely peaceful and obsessed with star-gazing, and I love them dearly. They live on two icy outer worlds in the Vesk system that share a moon. Twice a year the orbits of the two planets pass close enough to hand off the moon, and the Kothama go on sacred pilgrimages via magical gates to the moon and the other planet when this occurs. They’re just … so mystical and cool?

Polyphonic Gel. It’s an ooze. It’s a sparkly, smoked-glass looking tiny ooze made up of millions of semi-fluid fibres that eat sound and sing. They can also use said sonic emissions to do horrific damage to people and things, but that’s incidental. They’re so pretty. They can get really big if fed a consistent diet of sound, like the thrum of industrial fans for example, but then get cravings for specific sounds and can thoroughly rampage through a place in search of them. Devotees of the goddess of music Shelyn believe that they’re sacred and can be a little overzealous in trying to help them out at times. Which I fully understand!

Rendalairn. They (or possibly it, singular) are massive (30ft diameter) metallic superweapons that rove around killing planets. They just hurtle around, land on a world, and tear it the hell up until they’ve wiped out everything intelligent down there. There are two known worlds where this has happened. On one of them, the rendalairn sent a polite telepathic message to everything in orbit to stay away from the ‘demolition site’ and then started telepathically playing music from the culture it was destroying as it razed the planet. On the other, there was no music, but it did still broadcast the warning. No one knows who built them, or sent them, or how they choose worlds to target, so it’s all a little terrifying, but it’s another fantastic bit of spacer lore to throw into your setting.

Sapient Purple Orb. Exactly what it sounds like. They’re sentient, friendly little psychic purple orbs that bob around trying to make first contact with new friends. They’re telepathic but also show visions on their surfaces to people. If they like their new friends, they get very protective of them. They also tend to appear in waves, and in noticeably smaller numbers each time, so there’s something mysterious going on there. They’re just a fascinating little phenomenon, and also adorable.

Vasporan. I blame the art for this one, because they’re just adorable. They’re 11ft fucking tall, granted, but they’re adorable blue giant squid-shrews that can rapidly molt or partially molt their shells into either disposable shields or gas pocket balloons for flight. They’re ambush predators, and dangerous, and, again, 11ft tall, but they’re really, really, really cute.

Warpstitcher. These things remind me so strongly of both the Weavers and the Slake Moths from Perdido Street Station. In different ways, obviously, but still. Serious Bas-Lag vibes with this one. They’re interdimensional spider-like aberrations that target powerful magic-or-tech users and stitch their victims onto their bodies to feed on their minds (which normally is irreparably damaging even for the few who survive, but can, very rarely, open the surviving mind up to revelation and euphoria). They hunt the people they do because they believe that magic and tech (especially the Drift) is doing irreparable damage to the fabric of the multiverse. They believe that before the Gap they were responsible for stitching the multiverse into a single whole, but something that happened in the Gap ripped them away from their true abilities and calling, and now they need to punish those they believe might have been responsible. They’re … The Bas-Lag vibes are very strong, yes?

I love the Starfinder setting so much. Science fantasy and space horror are such fantastic genres for me. I enjoy them deeply.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

For the first day of Silmarillion Daily - some thoughts on the Discord of Melkor.

The Great Music is a theme where Ilúvatar provides the broad strokes, and the Valar are encouraged to improvise upon it. The purpose of Melkor’s discord is not creativity, but in a sense the opposite of it - “to increase the power and glory of the part assigned to himself,” and thus to give one voice greater dominance over all the others, rather than all working together in their own ways. And that dominance and lack of creativity is the first effect: some are discouraged and stop singing, while others match him rather than following their own thoughts.

The Music is something of a speedrun of what Melkor later becomes - at the beginning he wants more power in order to make his vision a reality, but as he continues fighting against anything that is not his own music, he ceases to have any real vision of his own, but only the object of drowning out everyone else.

it was loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated; and it had little harmony, but rather a clamorous unison as of many trumpets braying upon a few notes. And it essayed to drown the other music by the violence of its voice

This is a pretty good encapsulation of what evil does to a person who chooses it, on a pattern repeated throughout Tolkien’s works (Melkor, Sauron, Fëanor, Saruman): any creative impulse or goal is drowned in the desire for power and dominance and crushing any opposition.

For all this, Melkor cannot overcome Ilúvatar’s guiding theme in the music, but as a consequence of this discord Ilúvatar’s theme becomes both sorrowful and more beautiful, the beauty coming from the sorrow. This is also the core theme of The Silmarillion: evil can destroy, it can bring sorrow, but it can never ultimately win.

behold! a third theme grew amid the confusion, and it was unlike the others. For it seemed at first soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity…deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came….it seemed that its most triumphant notes [of Melkor’s Discord] were taken by the other and woven into it own solemn pattern.

Lastly, there is a sharp contrast drawn between the attitudes of the other Ainur towards the vision of the Children of Ilúvatar, and the attitude of Melkor. The other Ainur are delighted at the prospect of people who are different from them, with whom they can communicate and from whose different ways of thinking and living they can learn:

when they beheld them, the more did they love them, being things other than themselves, strange and free, wherein they saw the mind of Ilúvatar reflected anew

But Melkor, by contrast, is jealous of them because they are different from him, and wants to control them and be obeyed by them:

he desired rather to subdue to his will both Elves and Men, envying the gifts with which Ilúvatar promised to endow them; and he wished himself to have subjects and servants, and to be called Lord, and to be a master over other wills.

In Tolkien’s works, almost invariably, more diversity and variation and creativity is a good thing, and trying to make everything done one way, your way, inevitably leads to ‘making people do want you want’ become the goal that precedes and displaces whatever it was that you wanted to do in the first place.

On another note, it’s fascinating that most of the Ainur other than Ulmo initially find the Sea unsettling (‘because of the roaring of the sea they felt a great unquiet’), even as the Elves will the first time they see it. It’s possible, in line with the above, that part of this is the wild and uncontrolled nature of the Sea; that it is, to Tolkien, the ultimate element of freedom, the thing that cannot be controlled and yet holds no dominion. This also fits with Ulmo’s role as the ‘loyal opposition’ to some of the other Valar, in his desire not to summon the Elves to Middle-earth, and to aid the Noldor after their departure; both or these are in line with allowing the Children of Ilúvatar more freedom to choose their own path.