#'nothing of value was lost here' etc etc

[hamletisintown]

He had it coming, he had it coming, he had it coming.

Inspired by newest developments in this fic, text (and wonderful, riveting fic) by @becausegraf.

Don't worry, things are perfectly fine :)

(ID in alt text)

[ilynpilled]

Why does Jaime not fit as Tywin's heir, or it's not in his nature -- as you say. Very interesting stuff.

Jaime is a very romantic character. Tywin can be delusional too (not that this is synonymous with romantic), to absurd levels, trying to achieve an idealized legacy, but he is not an idealist in the way that Jaime is at all. They also have very distinct values and ways of looking and reacting to the world. Remember when he told Jaime this:

"You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night," she heard him tell Jaime once, when her brother had been no older than Tommen.

It is such a deeply funny line to me. It is at the core of how Tywin seems to operate as an individual. And he is telling this to the character named J’aime. The character whose actions are always driven by some aspect of love: be it love that is destructive and prejudiced, or love that is beautiful and altruistic. Like one of his defining character thesis statements is: “The things I do for love.” The point is that Jaime was always a character with a romantic view of things, especially at the start. His feigned cynicism and nihilism cannot even hide this aspect of his character once we finally get into his disillusioned and blackpilled head. Even when you read the prose in his chapters his descriptions are laced with romantic language. Tywin is so caught up with the image of Jaime, the ideal masculine archetype, that he completely ignores the major issues present with Jaime’s nature and how incompatible it is with Tywin’s outlook on life. Jaime is absolutely not a good candidate to be his “cold ruthless and pragmatic with perfect authority” heir. This is why Jaime ends up giving it all away for the KG, and ruins all his plans. He does this for love. He also cares relatively little about being the head of his family and his main motivations are everything that does not fit with so much of Tywin’s outlook. Jaime is concerned more with abstract concepts like honor, chivalry, and love etc than power and politicking. It is also very apparent how distinct they are based on Jaime’s relationship to his siblings and the guilt he feels over Rhaegar’s children and how he reacts to the brutality and cruelty done to Hoat for example. He also keeps running from Tywin’s legacy. First, he gives it all up because he loves Cersei. Then, when he comes back handless, Tywin celebrates like fucking finally, and then Jaime is like nah I’ll stay KG actually, and gets disowned #epic style. Then, he frees his brother because of guilt and because he cared about him unlike Tywin. This is also an action that leads to Tywin’s death. All of his children keep dooming him because he tried to mold them into something that they are not. He wanted Cersei, a passionate, ambitious, and fiery individual to be a submissive tradwife political pawn. He wanted Tyrion to be hidden with no influence or real power, repressing the immense potential that Tyrion has. This is why they are all destined to destroy him and what he has built in some form. (also, I think this idea is also ever present in how Tywin tries to change the twin swords into pure crimson, and how they physically reject it: link, it speaks to Tywin’s failure to mold his legacy into what he wants it to be, as well as the inability to cover up the darkness (ripples of blood and night) with pretty crimson, but I think it also showcases how he fails to mold all his tools, be it Joff, Jaime, Tyrion, Cers) Even when Jaime seeks to emulate his father because he believes his strength is needed to offer protection to his family, he fails at it. There are numerous anti parallels all throughout AFfC and especially his ADwD chapter.

[notjustjavierpena]

I have recently watched scenes from a marriage with oscar isaac and my mind which connects everything with hubby javi immediately went to this:

imagine wife’s and javi’s friends are going through a divorce, there’s cheating m, miscommunication etc and just a very hard time.

I feel like Javi and Wife would have a conversation about this due to the proximity of it happening to their friends. One about trust and if they’re happy. It’s not about insecurity or anything just them both communicating effectively and giving the other reassurance that this is not on the cards for them.

I just value their relationship so much.

Reassess

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hiya anon! I hope it’s okay that I tweaked your request slightly to fit my version of hubby and wife. Enjoy ❤️ Thanks so much for proofreading, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !!!

Summary: You and Javier’s friends are going through a divorce, and it suddenly makes you wonder about your own marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, talk about divorce, talk about cheating, brief descriptions of piv sex with creampie, hurt/comfort, love!, mention of pregnancy and pregnant reader, cuddling, kisses, Javier is a great husband and you are anxious

Word count: 1.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54352768

Reassess

Jonathan and Mira are getting a divorce. The news had been announced to you by Javier when he entered the dimly lit living room on a Thursday night, looking paler than a ghost after what you had wrongly assumed to be a same-as-always phone conversation about football, work and going out for a beer in the near future. 

“No!” You had instinctively covered your mouth with your hand to suppress an animated gasp. Apparently, Mira had come clean about seeing another man a few days earlier and it only took shy of two days for their whole marriage to crumble. The thought was and is terrifying. 

It seems to dampen the mood between you and your husband significantly. There are more pregnant silences, longer stares, more hurried kisses, and worried faces in the middle of your daily routines that become opportunities for reflection when doing something mundane as folding laundry. However, the elephant in the room becomes most unbearable when Javier rolls off of you after making love to you a week after the news hit. 

He stares up at the ceiling and pants as he tries coming down from his high, reaching up to run his fingers through his slightly sweaty hair. You shift on your side of the bed to turn your body towards him, and gently lay a hand on his chest, “That was really good.”

“Hm? What?” He replies, “Oh right, yeah.”

“Honey,” you furrow your brow, “I don’t think I particularly like having sex with you if you’re not here with me.” 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry),” his eyes find yours, his voice is genuine, “I can’t stop thinking about Jon and Mira.”

Your eyes soften at that. It is nice to know that he is as shaken by this happening as you are, and in such close proximity to your own marriage too even if it technically has nothing to do with you. It suddenly hits why it has been so hard to start up a conversation about it. 

“Me either,” you sigh and scratch his chest gently with your nails and lay your head on his shoulder. He takes hold of your wrist and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb in soothing circles, “I can’t believe they ended up like that, who would have thought?”

“And Ava?” Javier sounds devastated and turns his head toward yours so he can rest his lips in your hair. 

“She must be so confused,” you mumble back, lost in thought. Ava is Mira and Jonathan’s daughter who sometimes has play dates with Inés, and to think that she has to deal with her parents not being able to work as a couple, especially since Mira apparently had to go sleep with someone else, is a scenario that you find nauseating when your brain automatically starts imagining your own children in the same scenario. You don’t think Lucas would ever forgive you if you caused that much hurt to his father, “I don’t know what Mira was thinking. Ava has to deal with her mom having hurt her dad. Why would she put her through that?”

“Jonathan said she’s in love with this new guy,” Javier argues. 

“I suppose sometimes you just fall in love with someone else,” you say without any emotion in your voice except for maybe a hint of disgust. 

“Are you happy? With me?” The question has been looming over the both of you since the news hit. It was only a matter of time before one of you would start reassessing your own marriage. 

You lift your head up to look Javier straight in the eyes, and even if you knew it was coming, you still feel taken aback by how much it makes your guts turn to even be told to consider it. The answer is so clear, “What? I—“

“That’s not an immediate yes,” he furrows his brow in concern. 

“Don’t be absurd,” you say back, “I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”

“But do you ever worry about us?” He continues. 

“This is the part where you say you love me too,” you joke without much humor in your voice. 

“Are you kidding? I’m nothing without you,” he lifts the hand you still have on his chest to kiss your palm, “Te amo tanto (I love you so much) but I need you to answer the question.”

“I don’t ever worry about us, no,” you answer truthfully and Javier visibly relaxes, “I know you. I trust you. It doesn’t even occur to me that I could have anything different in my life, you know? It feels like I would always have found you somewhere else if not here.”

“Perhaps they looked for something else when things became routine,” he suggests, resting your hand against his cheek.

“It’s never routine for me to tell you I love you,” you tell him with a little smile, “There’s no going back to the way things were before you.” 

“The idea of having anything else but this,” he trails off for a second, weighing his words and reaching out for you with his free hand. He cups the back of your knee to pull your leg over his naked body, “It’s just not in the cards for me. I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”

“Is this code for you’re stuck with me?” You crawl closer to kiss him on the mouth and tighten the leg around him, “Hm?”

“Sí (yes), you’re stuck with me, baby,” he says against your lips. 

“Do you promise that?” You whisper after pulling back a little, smiling softly as you look down at his mouth. He initiates another kiss after nodding. 

You kiss for a while without rushing it, deeply until you share each breath in your intense embrace. Despite just having had sex with him fifteen minutes ago, you want him again in a way that has him as hard as when you first got together. He fucks you open slowly with you on your back, makes you come on his cock with an almost pained tone in your whimper. He is everywhere on you, soaking you in love. The way he gasps along with you as he comes inside of you has your heart pounding in your chest. 

“No quiero a nadie más que a ti (I don’t want anyone else other than you),” he says when basking in the afterglow. However, you have already gotten out of bed to get cleaned up in the bathroom. In contrast to your husband, your afterglow is replaced by anxiety that you have just promised isn’t there. 

“I don’t want to end up like that,” you say while peeing with the door open. Javier moves on the bed to be able to look at you. 

“We won’t, te lo prometo (I promise you that),” he is quick to answer. You try to give him a smile but he notices the way you falter, “Anything you want to talk about? Anything on your mind?"

“They used to be so happy,” you sigh deeply and get up after finishing your business. You move to the sink and start washing your hands, your back suddenly towards him, “Makes me wonder if we're strong enough to weather anything.”

You hear the weight of him shift on the mattress and a second later, the soft pads of his feet across the tiled bathroom floor. He is behind you, looking at you in the mirror. You feel grateful for the sincerity in his eyes.

“Baby,” he tuts, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. One of his hands goes down to lay on your stomach right below your belly button. You have just started to show, and the both of you have already talked about how early it is that your belly has started protruding but none of you have any clue why yet as you haven’t had your first scan. 

Javier kisses your bare shoulder, “This is my life, and I love it, and I would never hurt you… I trust you not to hurt me too.”

You silently turn off the tap to dry your hands but Javier doesn’t let you move. He lifts your chin so he can stare at you in the mirror, “I need you to trust me when I say that ten years with you have only made me want ten, twenty, thirty more. I love you. I choose you every day. Jonathan and Mira didn’t choose each other. We’re not them.”

“I love you too,” you shake your hands dry instead and then turn in your husband’s arms. You hug him close and he walks you out of the bathroom whilst still holding you tightly. 

“Three kids so far,” he reminds you whilst guiding you back to bed, “A decade down the line. We must be doing something right.”

“But what if—“

“You worry too much, mi vida (my life),” he says and smacks your ass as you crawl back into your bed. You glare back at him but he just snickers while crawling in too, “Get comfortable and go to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you say truthfully.

“Of course, you can,” Javier joins you under the covers. He lays down close to you and without saying a word, reaches out to gently and repeatedly stroke his hand over your hair. The warmth of his palm soothes your worry, each caress easing away the weight in your chest. 

You wonder if Mira left because Jonathan didn’t do this sort of thing anymore. Javier has done it for ten years. This fact makes sleep find you easily.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[necronomicorn]

Night of Firsts (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

Fandom: Shadow and Bone, Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kaz Brekker asks his most valued Crow to do the unthinkable, take his virginity.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: smut, Kaz's touch aversion, death, blood, touchy men, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, etc...

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

It was far too late for anyone in the town to be bustling about, any young woman or child should be sound in their bed, safe from the dangers of the night. Monsters lurked around every corner, man or beast, it was true, the freaks come out at night. 

The club, however, was still active, several games of poker still being played, dancers still upon tables and deals being forged. Music echoed from the walls as the crowded swayed, talkative and busy. The women who dared to be in the club at this time, were bold indeed. Among the drunken men, who wanted a good feeling, and all the thieves who could slit a helpless woman's throat, it was no place for a lady.

But Y/N was no lady. Belonging to the master of the Crows, Kaz 'Dirtyhands' Brekker, she had traded in her ladylike dresses a long time ago. As she nudged her way through the crowd, many men stole a glance, at the tightness of her leather pants that stretched across her ass, and the cut of her flowing shirt, but most importantly, the dagger that was strapped to her thigh, alerting any man who touched her, there would be consequences. Her black boots clicked against the tile ground as she hurried through the club, going up the stairs to her bosses office. The crowd parted as she walked by, staring at the young woman as she heaved open the doors, before slipping inside. Then knew her well, well enough as anyone goes, Y/N, the Fury, another one of Kaz Brekker's toys. 

As Y/N stepped into the office, her eyes scanned the room, which was nearly empty, besides the one and only Dirty Hands sitting behind a long desk. Y/N sighs, dropping the act as she heads over to him. To the public, she may be seen as one of his warriors, but in reality, she was one of his friends. Kaz himself, looked intimidating, stern look on his face, fashionable suit and high priced gloves. Y/N, also wore gloves, out of respect for the man who didn't like to be touched. She leaned against the tall desk as Kaz scanned her body, "Jesper said you needed something."

Kaz swallows, an action that portrayed fear onto his face, " Yes, I have a request."

Y/N brings her hand to the hilt of her knife, tightly strapped to her thigh, " Who do I have to kill?"

The man glances up, this time to her face, towards the gleam in her eyes, " It's nothing like that, it's a more personal request."

The Fury tilts her head. She wasn't used to this. Kaz and her did have a bond, but usually his personal requests went out to Jesper or Inej, the more long term members of the gang. She shrugs, shifting her weight to each of her feet, " Okay."

Kaz takes a deep breath, running a gloved hand through his hair, " Through consideration, I've been looking at my reputation as a leader. I'm 18, quite young, but that also means that I have to be intimidating. And I've come to the realization that a virgin is not intimidating."

The bluntness of the phrase takes a toll on Y/N's face, as she stutters out a response, "So then just lie. I mean, you can't touch anyone, and sex involves a lot of that."

Annoyance gleams in Kaz's eyes, along with something different, innocence. "I know. That's why I've called you here. I'd like you to take my virginity. If you'd agree to it." He adds as an afterthought. 

Y/N's jaw drops at the bold statement, before she regains her composure. He may be her friend, but he was still her boss. "Kaz..." she starts, but the words seem to get lost.

Kaz watches his Fury carefully. He saw the uncertainty in her body language, and heard the doubt in her voice. One thing was certain though, he wanted her. There was a way she made him feel that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was a tingling feeling, something that he only assumed would get better with his feelings being brought forth, but even now it was still there. Kaz looks down, maybe he was wrong. "You don't have to say yes. I just believe that I share a connection with you, and I may be broken, but I'd like to experience at least something. For all I know, I might die tomorrow, and no one wants to die a virgin."

Y/N doesn't meet his eyes, doesn't even speak up," I don't want to ruin what we already have. I care about you Kaz, but I don't want you to have to step up to this."

"I want it, " The boy whispers. He did, but he'd never done anything before. This craving, it was something deep inside of him clawing to get out.

Y/N nods, taking a deep breath before holding her head high once more, "Alright, stand up."

Kaz's head snaps up, "What?"

"You think I'm going to let you lose your virginity in an office? We're going to my bedroom." Y/N smirks. 

Kaz, follows her into a decent sized room,  one with a large bed in  the middle, draped with light blue sheets. As Y/N locks the door, Kaz stands at the foot of the bed, staring down into the sea of sheets. Sensing his fear, Y/N runs a gloved hand over his back, " Lay down."

Kaz moves over to one side of the bed, taking off his coat and shoes. He may be inexperienced, but he wasn't stupid. Sliding into the softness of the sheets, Kaz watches as Y/N takes off her boots, and crawls onto the bed, next to him.  A wave of nervousness strikes Kaz as he takes a deep breath, and another. The woman next to him, purrs, gently rubbing his back, "Have you touched yourself before?"

Kaz shakes his head, letting out a shaky stream of words, "No, I-I can't."

Y/N places a hand on his own, silk gloves meeting Kaz's leather ones, before pulling his hand down to place over the bulge in his pants. Kaz's breath shakes, as Y/N coaxes his hand to the zipper, "It's okay, I'm right here. Small steps, okay?"

Kaz nods, rubbing himself through his black boxers. It felt strange, a part of him wanted to repulse, scrub off his skin, while the other wanted to rub harder. This is what arousal feels like. Kaz thinks, as he shivers. Y/N coaxes him on, "I want you to take your cock and touch yourself. You can keep the gloves on, and you don't have to do it hard. If you want to stop, tell me, and I promise we will right away."

Kaz swallowed thickly, heart beating against his chest as he pulled down his boxers, taking his flaccid cock in one hand. He could wrap hand around it, not fully, but enough to feel something. He wasn't sure what he felt, how dirty he felt as his cock swelled in his hand, making him want to sob. But he wasn't doing this for him, he was doing it for her. With a reassuring glance, he began to drag his palm up and down his shaft, watching as it hardened against his finger tips.

Kaz laid his head back into the pillows with a sobbing whimper as is cock pulsed. He could feel everything, everything that made his forehead sticky and body tense. He could feel Y/N's body shift on the bed beside him, as he looked over with stinging eyes.  She smiled, "You're doing great, may I?"

Kaz groans, but Y/N understands the want in his voice. Carefully, she took a glove hand and placed it over his own, setting a pace as they stroked his cock. Moments later, Kaz took his hand away, leaving the cold satin of Y/N's gloves to drag against him.

Y/N watches as Kaz tilts his head back with heavy breaths as his hands clutch the sheets, twisted in his fingers. After setting a good pace, that Kaz seems adjusted to, Y/N began to pull, twisting in a slightly rough motion that caused Kaz to whimper. She continues, dragging her hand up his shaft and rubbing a thumb against the tip, where pre-cum had already begun bubbling there. Kaz's hips buck up instinctively, creating more friction as her palm rolled around his cock. 

Y/N looked up, to Kaz's squinted eyes, and open mouth, and down to his cock, how hot he looked in this disheveled state. "Kaz?" she groans, " Are you alright?"

Kaz moans, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Do you want me to keep going?"

"More," Kaz hisses, as Y/N rubs her thumb against his tip. 

He felt good, with her doing it, with her gloves rubbing against him. The filth was gone, for now, as he opened his eyes, feeling an emptiness on his cock. He watched as she slid off the side of the bed, and began to unzip her own pants. Fear coursed through Kaz's body, he wasn't ready for that yet. 

Y/N meets his eyes, sensing the fear, "Not yet, one step at a time. It's just hard to bend down in these pants." She says, slipping the leather down her feet, revealing her toned legs and a pair of scarlet panties. She unbuttons her shirt as well, leaving it open to reveal her matching bra.

Kaz scans her body as she comes closer to him, pulling her hair back as she does. In front of his cock, Y/N bends down, to face level. Oh shit, she was going to give him a blowjob. 

Y/N wiggles her ass from behind him, "Is this okay?"

Kaz nods, and Y/N begins to stroke up his shaft. He was a good size, thicker than her hand could fit around, and enjoyably long too. What a fool he'd been to keep this to himself for so long, how many people he could please with a body like his. As Y/N went down on him, felt the slickness of her inner thighs, how wet she was from her master.

Kaz groans, hips bucking into her mouth, as she gagged and hummed, taking as much as she could of his cock. This was different though, with this, his body was stimulated but his mind wasn't. His heart beat faster as he watched her take him in her mouth. Why had he made her do this? Why did he think this was a good idea? Fuck-

"Stop." Kaz groans tightly, a spinning sensation overtaking him.

Y/N releases his cock with a pop, looking up as tears form in Kaz's eyes. Kaz curls himself into a ball,  tears pricking his eyes, disgust raging through his body. Why did he think he could do this? Why would he ask her? Why would he ever be able to be normal when he could be the broken bitch of a man he was?

"Shit." Y/N curses, wiping the saliva off her chin and going to sit next to the boy. She rubs her hand against his back, in small, circular motions, "Kaz, what's wrong?"

A tremble racks through his body as Kaz looks up, "I'm sorry. I-I just can't do it."

Y/N smiles, "It's okay. No one was asking you to. If you want to stop, I'm fine with that. Do you want to tell me what was wrong?"

Kaz places his head in his hands, not wanting to make eye contact with her, "It felt good, when you were just... touching me. But then you were sucking me and I could feel you. It felt wrong, it felt forced. I felt dirty and it... it scared me. Then all these questions got into my head- why the hell did I make you do this- fuck- I'm so sorry."

Kaz takes quick breaths, matching the trembling of his body, and the whimpers that escaped from his lips. Y/N rubs circles on his back, " Kaz, it's okay that you didn't like something, I don't like blowjobs either."

For once, Kaz looks her in the eyes, his brown ones meeting her own, "Then why would you do that?"

Y/N sat back on her heels, " Because you asked me to."

Kaz shakes his head, another tremor running through his body, "No. I'm such an ass, making you do something you didn't want to. I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't," Y/N interrupts, "I'm going to get a bath ready for you, I figured you'd want to clean yourself."

Kaz, lays out on the bed, looking down at his still hard cock. His body wanted this, wanted her, showed such a reaction, but his mind was like a steel gate, never wanting to get over his past. He'd tried, with Inej, by himself, and now with Y/N. They weren't Jordie, they were nothing like Jordie, but at the same time, everything about them screamed Jordie. Sometimes, he believed that he was only using the ones he cared about to keep afloat. "No, you don't need to."

With this, he tucks his hardened cock back into his pants, showing a very prominent bulge. He picks up his coat and shoes, not looking back into the room as Y/N stands there, half naked and shocked.

------------------------

Kaz's erection doesn't go away, not before Jesper finds him at the bar, drinking his consciousness away. Jesper knew something was going on with Kaz, even before he looked down to see Kaz's predicament. Ordering two shots, Jesper hands one to his friend, "Are you gonna tell me?"

Kaz gives Jesper a sour look before rolling his eyes, "I thought I could do something but it turns out I just made a fool of myself."

The gun master looked down, finally, and laughed, "You asked Y/N and it didn't work out. Was it you or her?"

Kaz swallows the shot Jesper placed in front of him, "Me, I fucked it up. I thought I could get over my fears but it turns out I can't. Not to mention that I fucking used her."

Jesper chuckles, "What makes you say that?"

"Are you deaf!," Kaz exclaims,"I made her screw me, well attempt to at least. She didn't want that, she only did it-"

"Because she likes you." Jesper blurts out.

Kaz turns to his friend, "What?"

Jesper smirks, " We're talking about Y/N, the fucking Fury. The girl who'll cut off a guy's dick if he even looks at her the wrong way. The girl who will follow you into the fire just to make sure you get out safely. She cares about you, not because you're her boss, I mean she really cares about you. She didn't do that because you asked, she did it because she cares for you."

Kaz stares at the empty shot glass, he had to apologize, do something at least. He rushes off, leaving Jesper alone, smirking into his drink.

----------------------

Y/N was outside the club, leaning against the back wall, bricks poking into her back. She watched the entrance as women came out of the club, making sure that no men were to come and take advantage of them.

Back in her leather pants and shirt, a cloak hung from her shoulders, and the hilt of her knife was rested by her hand. As a young woman with curly blonde hair and a very revealing dress exited the club, Y/N watched as two men followed her into the street. She could hear their filthy whispers as she stalked after them, keeping to the shadows. 

She watches for a moment as the men surround the young blonde, who looks very much in distress. Sneaking across the muddy street, Y/N pauses behind the men, "Excuse me ma'am, are you alright?"

The blonde looks at her, and smiles, " Of course, I was just telling these men to leave."

The man closest to Y/N had an eye patch, straggly brown hair, and reeked of alcohol, purred in her ear, "But we don't wanna."

Another one came over, and placed his bony hand on her ass, "We'd much rather have some fun."

The blonde looks over to Y/N's new predicament, before hurrying off in the opposite direction. That was what she was supposed to do, and Y/N knew it. Once she was out of sight, Y/N focused on the man who was rubbing circles on her ass, "You have 3 seconds to get your hands off me or I will hurt you."

The man with the eye patch chuckled, grabbing her wrist," Oh yeah, with what, princess."

Y/N smirks, brandishing her knife, "With this."

The bony one hisses in her ear, "You know how to use that, hot stuff?"

She turns her head to look him in the eyes, "Do you really want to fuck around and figure out?"

With this,she stabs the knife upwards, right into the crotch of the man's pants, leaving him howling in pain. As the other man tries to pull her close to him, she slashes his wrist, hard enough to slice it in two. He screams as thick blood pours from the stump, coating the ground where his hand lay limp. 

The man lunges at her, coating the front of her shirt with his blood,almost as filthy as he was. Y/N simply side steps him, as he falls forward, before she pushes into the grimy ground. She looked around the busy street to see if anyone had caught the commotion, but if they had, no one was speaking up about it. Across the street, she catches the eye of Kaz Brekker. He watches as she rushes off, and by the next passing wagon, she has disappeared completely.

--------------------

Y/N drew herself a bath, in a large, claw-foot tub. Bubble and steaming water reached the brim of the tub as she carefully placed herself inside. Her blood coated clothes were piled in a corner on the tile, giving off a faint metallic scent when she inhaled.

The water calmed her, as she thought about the events that had happened not even an hour before. Maybe she had taken it too far, had gone too quickly, or maybe she had just messed up. It was a pleasure though, seeing Kaz in that way, feeling his hips buck under her hands, watching his skillful hands clench the sheets. She could only imagine what those hands could make her feel, how it would be to have his hands dipping inside her.

Leaning her head back on the tub, she imagined Kaz's fingers in place of her own as she thrust them in and out. Saints, it made her swell even to think of him kneeling before her, in between her legs, just the thought of it made her want to -

"Am I interrupting something?" says a voice from the doorway.

Y/N's eyes open in surprise to see Kaz in the door frame, leaning against his cane. "Usually when a door is locked, it means do not open."

Kaz walks a few paces closer to the tub, shutting the door behind him. The metal of the cane clicks against the tile floor as he does so. " I had the key."

Y/N looks up to the man, who is much more composed now, " Is there a point to you being here?"

"I understand your mad at me but-"

"Kaz, why would I be mad?" Y/N interrupts, " Because you walked out on me? I'm not mad. I understand you needed space, it was a big thing for you."

Kaz leans against the counter, "I don't want to lose your friendship, or your trust. I just-"

Y/N begins to step out of the bathtub, water slicking her skin. Out of decency, Kaz turned around, feeling a slight blush on his cheeks. Y/N sighs as she puts on a nightgown, "What do you want?"

Kaz lowers his head, "I'd like you to take my virginity."

Y/N steps over to Kaz, turning him around. Kaz avoids her eyes, looking down, past the sheer nightgown she was wearing and to the floor. "Kaz?" Y/N whispers, bringing one hand to his face and forcing him to look at her.

The feared leader was shaking internally, heart beating  quickly as he repeated, "I'd like you to take my virginity."

Y/N smiles, pushing her forehead against Kaz's chest. Her hair was damp as Kaz ran a hand through it, water slicking the leather of his gloves. Looking up, Y/N stares into the man's dark eyes, "You think you're losing your virginity in a bathroom? Go, I'll meet you in my bedroom."

Kaz does so, once again standing above the blue satin sheets, fear coursing through his body. Slowly, he takes off his shoes, then his coat, and then unbuttons the first two buttons that seemed constricting on his shirt.  Then, he goes over to sit at the edge of the bed until Y/N comes into the room, slipping her hands into a black pair of satin gloves.

"No," Kaz says, leaning back into the pillows, "Leave them off."

Y/N tilts her head, but does what he asks, laying them nicely on the edge of the bed, "You sure?"

Kaz nods as Y/N leans between his thighs, undoing the zipper and pulling down his black boxers. With a reassuring look from Kaz, she takes his cock in one hand, slowly pumping it back and forth. Her hand was warm and textured as it moved along his shaft, Kaz leaning his head back. There was that same feeling again, the filth in the pleasure. He focused on her, as a whole, her hand dragging along him, the pleasure he could feel made his cock swell with pride. 

Y/N smiled at his erection, and dragged her fingernails along the underside of his balls. Kaz moaned as she massaged them in her hand, awed at the soft feel of him. Once again, she pushed her thumb against the slit, squeezing the head slightly so beads of moisture formed at its tip. Kaz groaned, his hands going into the sheets, gripping them tightly. 

 The softness of his cock was unimaginable, as it was thrust into her hand, as Kaz's hips arched up with every stimulation. She hadn't been with a virgin in a long time, but as she watched Kaz's simple actions, she was glad she was with him. Kaz groans, feeling the pressure building in his cock, getting worse as Y/N went faster, harder. She knew he was close to coming, on the way his back arched, and the way his eyes were shut tight. "Let go, Kaz." she says, still pumping him.

The thief moans loudly as he releases, hot and sticky cum spilling over his button up shirt, and over Y/N's hand. She continues to jerk him through the orgasm, leaving the man a painting mess. "Please." he moans.

This catches Y/N off guard. The most feared person on this side of the fold, begging for her. Y/N smiles, wiping her hand on Kaz's pants before unbuttoning his shirt. The pallor of Kaz's chest gleamed in the flickering lights as his pants too were taken off, leaving him completely naked, vulnerable.  The thought was at the back of his mind though, as he watched the goddess before him kneel over his body, "Would you like me naked too?"

He nods, too overwhelmed with nerves to use his words. He could feel the cold air on his skin, everywhere. The thought made him want to cry. But he could also feel heat, radiating from Y/N's body as she climbed on top of him, taking off the sheer nightgown. He watched as she smiled down at him, before her eyes went down further, to the plumpness of her breasts, the curves of her body, down to the nakedness of her cunt, that hovered above his erection. The curious man places his gloved hands over her hips as she positioned his cock under her opening, before slowly placing him inside her. Kaz's cum slicked his shaft as Y/N slid down, stretched by his thickness. She paused, resting an inch or so above his hips to look at Kaz. 

He nods again, digging his fingers into her skin, pushing her further onto him. Y/N begins to move slowly up and down, occasionally rolling her hips getting a moaning reaction from Kaz. Saints, she felt so good, how tight she was over him, how warm. He watched as her pace began to quicken, as her breasts began to bounce in unison, as sticky strands of his cum coated her thighs, rubbing against his own hips to create a white masterpiece. He moaned at the pleasure, but he needed more. He needed control. He needed to please her. He needed to fuck her until she screamed.

Sliding his hands over her waist, Kaz flips his Fury over, cock still inside her, but now he was the one on top. Y/N groans as Kaz begins to slowly thrust, picking up her legs to get a deeper angle. Saints, this was amazing, seeing her beneath him, having so much control over her like she was his pet. His cock pulsed inside her as her walls clenched around him and she released a loud moan, one that the inexperienced Kaz took as pain. He slowed, looking down at her, the sweat prickling her skin, taking it all in, " Are you alright?"

Y/N hums, lifting her hips to fit more of him inside her, " I want you to fuck me hard, Kaz. I want to scream your name. I want to be yours."

Kaz smirks, driving himself back into her cunt with enough force to bruise her cervix. Y/N's back arches as she screams in pleasure, toes curled as he continues to thrust, feeling the pressure build inside of him. Saints, she felt so good. He was going to burst. Once again, Y/N sensed this and whimpered through her moans, "Please, Kaz. Please cum inside of me!"

A few more rapid thrusts and Kaz spills himself inside the warmth of her cunt, groaning as he continues to fuck her through his orgasm. Y/N writhes underneath him as he pulls out, watching his seed drip from her cunt, coating the satin sheets underneath. 

There was silence for a moment, only heavy breathing filled the room, smelling of sex and sweat. Y/N hums as she rolls off the bed, already feeling the bruising of her cervix. Kaz's warm cum leaks from her, dripping down her inner thighs as she walks to the bathroom, pausing at the door to look at her lover, who was in what seemed to be disbelief. " I'm going to fill up a bath for you, okay?"

When there is no response, she calls out again, louder this time, "Kaz, are you okay?"

He nods, looking over to the naked girl in the doorway, "Come here."

Y/N smiles, walking over to him and kneeling alongside him on the bed, "What is it?"

Without hesitation, Kaz grabs Y/N's face in his hands and presses his lips to hers. Moments pass by as their lips glide together, before Kaz pulls back, face flushed, "That was my first kiss."

Y/N smiles, brushing a strand of sweaty hair from his forehead, "Tonight's a night of firsts I guess."

[breeyn]

An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.

I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)

I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.

My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.

I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”

That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.

Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.

The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.

My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.

I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.

Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.

No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.

And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.

Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.

You see where I’m going?

If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.

So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.

The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.

Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤

[hoejosatoru]

Off Limits

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani

Summary: Your older brother, Mikey, forbids any of his subordinates from putting their hands on you. Naturally, Ran takes that as a challenge.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Alcohol mentioned, drugging mentioned (reader not drugged), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, raw sex, cream pie, Mikey is an over protective brother, guns, pet names like angel, sugar, pretty girl, etc I think that's it? kind of an abrupt ending bc I'm silly like that

It was a boring day for Ran Haitani. Well, if you consider hunting rival gang members down and beating information out of them dull like Ran does. As much as he loves his job, the thrill of seeing another man's fear, feeling his fist connect with deadly precision, sometimes it was a bit monotonous. All work and no play makes Ran Haitani a dull boy and such.

He thought he'd fix this with a trip to Bonten's strip - no gentlemen's club. He could hear Koko yelling at him in his head for, 'lessening the value of their asset' by not using some euphemism. Ran didn't think it mattered much. Men just wanted to see women take their clothes off; they didn't care what it was called.

Usually going to the gentlemen's club made him feel better, but even this was feeling dull to him today. He's already fucked all the girls he had an interest in. Some of them multiple times. And they were great, sure, but he nothing that could spark his interest now. He needed fresh blood, so to speak.

Then you walked in. Ran had been idly drumming his fingers along the dark mahogany of the bar top, half listening to Rindou and Sanzu drone on about the days' events. His fingers halted the moment he saw you, straightening up and zeroing in. He'd never seen you before, he would have remember that face... that body. Were you a new hire? He wondered... No it couldn't be. The execs ran background checks on all the women in the club, which fell to Ran or his brother to do. No way you slipped through the cracks.

A prickle of anger flared through him as he wondered if you were dating one of the execs. He couldn't image one of the guys dating a woman like you and not bragging about it though. Maybe a patron's girl? You seemed to be looking for someone. Ran smiled. He could be a helpful guy, take you to your boyfriend... and then put a hit out on him. He didn't play fair, but he always played for keeps.

"Shit, who's that?" Rindou piped up behind him. Ran stifled a wave of possessiveness rushing through him. If he made it too obvious how bad he wanted you, this would become a contest he didn't want. At least Rindou's response to you confirmed that he didn't know you, so you couldn't be a dancer.

"Dunno," Ran shrugged, "But looks like she could use some help."

Sanzu rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care about helping random women."

Ran knocked back the rest of the whisky in his glass. "What can I say, I am a feminist." Sanzu and Rindou groaned at him, but his back was already to them making a beeline towards you. The closer he got, the more he was taken by you. You were so beautiful, but you also looked more nervous that he originally appraised. Maybe you were truly just lost. Wrong place, right time - for Ran at least.

"Hi," Ran said, mustering all the calmness in his voice he could manage. You looked him up and down, your pulse quickening - and not because you were nervous. The man standing before you was one of the finest you'd ever laid eyes on. But you couldn't let that distract you from your purpose here. "Haven't seen you around here before, are you lost?"

You shook your head. "No, I'm... looking for someone." You were vague, not sure of who this man was and not willing to trust anyone but who you were looking for.

"Oh? Well I'm one of the owners here," Ran replied casually, though he was dying to know who you were here for. "Maybe I could help you out?" His words sparked recognition in you, he could see it in how your eyes widened.

He's an owner? That mean he must know... "My brother, I'm looking for my brother." You felt the tiniest rush of relief that you bumped into someone who could truly help you.

Brother. Ran couldn't help but smile. This was the best case scenario; there was not issue of competition there. "And who's that, sweetheart?"

"Mikey."

"Mikey?" But it wasn't his own voice that verbalized his surprised. He whipped around, irritated to find Sanzu and Rindou followed him. Sanzu was shocked by the mention of the boss's name. Ran couldn't deny he was surprised too; he had no idea Mikey had a sister.

"Since when did Mikey have a sister?" Rindou questioned.

Sanzu scowled. "I knew it," he snapped, "But I didn't know it was her." Of course Sanzu, Mikey's little dog, would be privy to that information. But even he had never laid eye on you before, he simply was just aware a sister existed. "You're not supposed to be here," his comment pointed right at you.

"I know, I know," you replied quickly. Mikey was very clear to you that you were supposed to stay far away from his... line of business. "But it's an emergency. These guys came to my job and I- they were looking for me." You shivered at the memory of your close call.

Sanzu's eyes widened. Ran could practically hear the gears turning in his head: how was he going to use this as an opportunity to further win Mikey's favor? Ran rolled his eyes, as if Sanzu needed to do any more ass kissing.

"Did anyone follow you here?" Sanzu demanded.

"No - I don't think so," you replied. "Please can't I just talk to Mikey?"

"C'mon Sanzu, you're scaring the poor girl," Ran interjected. If Sanzu could use the situation to his benefit, so could he. "Even if someone did follow her, we'll handle it. Let's just get her to Mikey." He gave you an assuring smile that caused a blush to rise in your cheeks. Ran didn't miss it, of course, savoring the soft little smile you returned to him.

Sanzu didn't argue, telling you to follow him instead. He led the way, weaving through the tables where patrons sat. Ran and Rindou took up the rear behind you, following to Mikey's private room at the club. Ran gave a particularly nasty look to one man who stared at you a beat too long.

"Did you know Mikey had a sister?" Rindou whispered to Ran.

"No."

"Interesting."

Ran smiled, this was exactly the type of fun he needed. "Very."

Sanzu opened the door to Mikey's office. He was sitting alone at his desk, a whiskey in his hands as he looked through a pile of papers. His eye flicked up, annoyed at the intrusion until he saw you. He jumped out of his seat. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he was half between anger and concern.

You rushed past Sanzu to your brother. Ran leaned against the closed door, eager to see how this played out. "I'm so sorry Mikey I- I know I'm not supposed to be here," the words tumbled out of you. "But there were men looking for me. I got scared."

Mikey's eyes darkened. "Tell me exactly what happened."

You sat down, realizing how badly you were shaking. You'd come here on pure adrenaline and now it was wearing off. You explained to Mikey how you had been in the back of the bakery where you work, when you heard a gruff voice asking for you. Well, it was really more like demanding. At first you had been afraid you fucked up someones order, but when you caught a peak at the 2 men looking for you you knew instantly they were not looking costumers.

Thankfully, they hadn't seen you and your coworker had the good sense to insist you were not working today. It took some convincing, but they finally left. You lied to your coworker and said you had a crazy ex. But really, you knew the symbol on their jackets was one your brother warned you of. A rival gang. And somehow, despite Mikey's best efforts to keep you far away from his lifestyle, they found you.

"You swear you weren't hurt?" Mikey questioned, softening now that he understood why you were here.

"I'm okay I promise, just a little shaken up," you replied, "I don't know what I'm gonna do about work."

"You're going to quit," Mikey state, shooting you a look when you balked. "I should have known something like this would happen. You got really fucking lucky today, y/n. If they had gotten to you... I don't even want to think about it. You have to stay close to me. Under my protection, there is no other way."

"But my coworkers could be in danger," you replied, sad at the thought of never getting talk shit about rude costumers while kneading dough again.

"I'll have my guys watch the shop for a few weeks to make sure it's safe. And tell me the name of the girl who had your back. I'll make sure she gets compensated," Mikey replied. Before you could protest, Mikey returned his attention to the men behind you. "Sanzu, get everyone to the meeting room. We need to discuss this immediately."

Sanzu slipped out obediently. Mikey eyed the two remaining men suspiciously, particularly the taller one. "And who do I have to thank for finding her?"

The taller one, Ran you believed his name was, smiled. "That would be me boss."

Mikey's jaw tightened. "Of course." He didn't express gratitude as you expected, but Mikey was not the most warm and fuzzy person. "You two can go wait in the meeting room. I'll be there shortly." They both nodded and slipped out wordlessly. You noticed, though, Ran eyes scan you one last time, which made your heart stutter in your chest.

Mikey instructed you to stay in his office while he went into the next room to have a meeting with his executives. "Don't worry, the club is guarded by my men, you're safe here. I'm gonna make sure everything works out, okay y/n?"

You nodded. You trusted your brother completely. Mikey squeezed your arm in attempt to be comforting before exiting the room. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the headache that was dealing with subordinates.

Despite the short amount of time lapsed, all his executives were there waiting. At least they knew their place, he thought. Dogs who come when called. The room was much more cramped than their board room back at HQ, but it worked for when they needed it. Mikey took his spot at the head of the table.

"Most of you don't know this, but I have a sister," Mikey began, his eye shifting around the room. All the men, besides those you had already met, looked surprised and confused. Sanzu was the only person who knew of your existence prior to this. Being he was Bonten's number 2, he had to ensure someone would look after you should anything happen to him.

"I've kept her secret from everyone because I didn't want her to be in danger. But somehow our rivals have found out about her," Mikey stopped, swallowing his anger as the weight of the situation hit him. "We are going to find the men looking for her and we are going to fucking kill them. All of them. Destroy their gang one member at a time if we have to."

The men nodded along, Sanzu particularly eagerly. He always excited at the thought of bloodshed.

"You're all to guard her with your life," Mikey continued, "I'll be working on a schedule for everyone to take turns keeping an eye on her while the rest of us continue work as usual."

"What if you bring her to work?" Koko asked. Mikey's brow furrowed, but he continued. "Our headquarters is secret and there always a bunch of us around. That's gotta be safer than just one of us at an apartment. And then you don't have to worry about shifts."

Leave it to Koko to find a way to be more efficient. Mikey debated it. On one hand he had a good point; it was probably safer to have you surrounded by more people. And then Mikey would alway be around at work and when you went home. Because he was definitely making you move in with him, at least until he was sure there weren't any active threats against you. But at HQ you'd in the middle of his business and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Plus there were other concerns he had...

"I think that's a good idea," Ran piped up.

"I agree," Takeomi said, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Of course they like the idea. Mikey wasn't an idiot, he knew you were a pretty girl. He's seen the way men look at you and being a man himself, he knows what those looks mean. It makes him sick to his stomach. It's not that he is some control freak that would say you're not allowed to date anyone, but he has high standards when it comes to who should be allowed to date you. And this lot of men don't even come close. They were great employees, cunning and devious, but he wouldn't want their hands on you. Having you around would be like throwing blood in shark infested waters.

Still, he couldn't deny it HQ would be the safest place for you to be. Mikey sighed. "Alright, you're right Koko," he replied, acknowledging only his white haired subordinate. Had it been anyone else who suggested it he may have said no, but Mikey trusted Koko not to have ulterior motives. He wasn't so obsessed with getting women in his bed like the others. "But there will be rules. Her safety is the number one priority. I'll expect you all to take a bullet for her if needed."

No one objected. Signing on to Bonten meant being willing to take a bullet for Mikey. What was one more person?

"And no one fucking touches her," Mikey stated, looking every single one of them in the eyes so they'd recognize the weight of his words. "If you do, I'll put a bullet in you."

Ran's lips twitched ever so slightly. He couldn't say he was surprised, but he was still amused. He was a man who loved a challenged and Mikey just made this all the more fun for him.

***

Moving in and working with Mikey was not as bad as you thought it would be. Mikey's "apartment" was more like a penthouse and did not make you miss your shabby little apartment at all. You had been worried about privacy, but you had your own room and bathroom down the hall and he gave you space when you needed it. You were actually liking the arrangement, getting to spend more time with your brother than you had in a while.

Even going to work with him wasn't so bad. At first he expected you to just sit around all day, but you insisted on doing something while you were there. He was very wary of it, not wanting you to get too involved in his way of life, but eventually allowed you to do some small stuff. You cleaned up a bit, made coffees, helped organize some old files. Simple stuff.

Then you discovered the HQ had a kitchen. It was little, but Mikey was more than happy to buy all the gadgets you needed to make it functional. Since then you spent your days baking, the thing you missed most. It worked out perfectly, it kept you busy with work Mikey deemed safe and the guys got fed delicious pastries. Everyone was happy.

In fact, you were surprised by how much you were enjoying this. There was still an element of fear knowing that the bad guys knew who you were and sure you got frustrated you couldn't go out with friends, but you did like going to work Mikey.

There was another reason you enjoyed going to Bonten HQ with Mikey so much. Ran Haitani. The attraction you felt towards him the first time you saw him has only grown. He charmed you with ease, like he wasn't even trying. Ran, of course, was trying. Specifically he was trying to make his flirtatiousness seem as casual as possible, as to not upset Mikey. He loved testing the limits, seeing what he could get away with.

"What're you making, sugar?" Ran asked as he entered the kitchen. He'd started calling you that nickname after you started supplying the execs with endless sweets. From anyone else you would think it was corny, but from Ran and it made your heart skip.

"Peanut butter brownies," you replied, taking in his appearance. He was always dressed well, but today he looked particularly good in an immaculate lavender pinstripe three piece suit. You reckoned no other man could pull it off.

He looked you up and down, a sly smile on his face. "Can't wait to get a taste." Your cheeks colored. You knew he was talking about the brownies, but the way he looked at you...

"You sure do have a sweet tooth, Ran."

"Well you're certainly hard to resist. Your baking, that is," he said with an innocent smile.

"Is there something specific you'd like to try?" you asked, returning his faux innocent banter.

Ran grinned, "I could think of something." It was then you realized the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Ran towered over you, his rich, warm scent filling your lungs.

Before you could speak, your brother's voice shattered the tension between the two of you. "Am I interrupting something?"

Ran turned, a calm smile on his face. "Nothing, boss. Y/n here was just telling me about the brownies she made. Was hoping she'd let me try 'em." He spoke so casually, nothing like the low simmer in his voice that had been pulling you in just seconds ago.

"Yeah, I bet," Mikey replied flatly. "A word alone, Ran." Mikey left without another word.

"Save a corner piece for me, they're my favorite," Ran smiled at you before slipping out of the room.

"I thought I made myself clear," Mikey stated when they were alone.

"I don't know what you're talking about, boss," Ran replied, that stupid smile still on his face. Mikey wanted to punch it off him.

"Do you think I'm stupid Haitani?" Mikey asked, his jaw tightening.

"Not at all, boss."

"Then you know that I know what you're up to," his eyes narrowed.

"I just wanted to try some bro-" Mikey cut him off by pounding the wall next to his head. Ran didn't even flinch.

"If you touch my sister you're a dead man," Mikey snapped.

Ran smiled again. "Wouldn't dream of it."

But dream he did. Hell he straight up fantasized about it. What you'd look like bent over those counters you constantly worked at, looking up at him with those pretty eyes while on your knees, how sweet you'd taste... He thought about it all. But more importantly, he planned.

Later that evening Mikey addressed the incident in the kitchen with you. "I don't like you talking to Ran."

"What? What's wrong with him?"

Mikey almost laughed. What wasn't wrong with him. "He's just..." he searched for the right word, not wanting to scare you. "An idiot."

You laughed. "All men are idiots." Mikey gave you a look, but couldn't help but smile.

"I'll ignore that comment," Mikey replied, "But he's just involved in bad shit. I don't want you getting close to people in my line of work, even the one's I trust. Plus, he only wants one thing."

You rolled your eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm about to get the birds and bees talk."

"I'm serious."

"Oh, I know you are," you half sighed, half laughed. "Like I said, all men are idiots. I know what men want, I've dealt with plenty of guys like that. I'm sure I can handle myself. Plus, he doesn't seem that bad."

"Well he is. So stay away from him," Mikey said with finality.

"What're you gonna do, kill him?" you asked, half joking.

"If I have to," Mikey replied so casually you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. You knew he would never hurt you, but you weren't blind to what your brother was capable of.

"You're way over thinking this," you replied, realizing that it would not be worth it to argue over this. "I don't see Ran like that. He's just another weirdo you work with. I'm not interested in him."

That seemed to appease Mikey. You were a better liar than you thought.

Since the day Mikey found you in the kitchen with Ran, the two of you were never alone together. Neither of you address what was going on between the two of you, but you knew he felt it. You could tell by the way he looked at you. You were certain it was not a one-sided crush. However, you were smart enough to know it could not be openly pursued.

Then, one day Ran appeared to you in the kitchen. Alone. "Mikey's out on errands."

For a half second you wondered why he was telling you this, but then it hit you. "Oh." Mikey was gone. That meant...

There was nothing more to be said. You were on each other in an instant, as if taken over by autopilot. Ran's hands felt so good on your body, already wrapping around your waist. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, desperate for more.

Ran wasn't patient in the best of times, but today? He couldn't wait another second to have you. He lifted you up on the counter with ease, pulling a half giggle half gasp from your lips. He moved skillfully, stripping your lower half without ever breaking away from the kiss until he dropped to his knees in front of you.

"Been dreaming about tasting you," he hummed against your thighs. He licked a stripe up your pussy and groaned. "So sweet. Knew you would be."

Ran buried his face between your legs. He knew he didn't have a ton of time and wasn't going to waste a second of it. His plush lips attached to your clit, making you gasp. You knotted your fingers through his lilac hair, needing something to steady yourself. His teased you, pressing against your aching entrance.

"Fuck Ran," you gasped, hooking your thighs over his shoulders and locking him against. Ran loved it, the feeling of your plush thighs pressed against him, how desperate you sounded. He needed to see you completely fall apart.

Ran slipped a finger into your throbbing hole and returned to sucking at your clit. You gripped his hair so tightly it made his scalp ache, but that only egged him on more. The feeling of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue lapping at your clit was too much for you. Your body shuddered as came, moaning his name. Ran savored every second, not pulling away until he was sure you were completely finished.

He stood up, about to kiss you again when his phone went off. He checked it, cursing when he saw Rindou's message. "Mikey's on his way back," He practically groaned. Ran almost laughed at how you pouted.

"I want you so bad."

"I know sugar, believe me," his eyes flicked down to the tent in his pants, making your eyes widen. "But if you're brother kills me before I get to fuck you then we're both shit outta luck." He gave a quick kiss. "Promise I won't make you wait too long." And with that he was gone.

***

It had only been two weeks, but it felt like an eternity. You thought there had been a lot of tension before you hooked up, but now it was down right unbearable. You both seemed to be avoiding each other, not because you didn't want to see each other, but because you couldn't trust yourselves not to pounce on each other. The few times you were in the same room together were a true test of endurance.

The way Ran looked at you drove you wild. His eyes would scan your body in a way that would seem casual to anyone else, but you could feel him undressing you, thinking of all the ways he would ravish you. It made your heart race and your knees buckle. Ran had one hell of a poker face, but the glint in his eyes told you that he too was dying to get his hands on you.

By the time a month passed, you were wondering if Ran was ever going to make a move. Then, on a Thursday night just as you were about to head to bed you got a text.

Ran: Come get the door. Quietly

Your heart raced, wondering if you were reading it right. The door? As in the front door where you lived with Mikey? He wouldn't dare come here, not with Mikey at home. But you had to check. Your crept out of your room, pausing to listen for any signs of Mikey being awake. His room was on the opposite side of the house from yours, but you didn't dare get to close and risk waking him.

When you finally opened the door, you were shocked to see Ran standing there with a calm smile on his face, despite his text.

"What're you-"

Ran held a finger up to his lip, silencing you. "Let's talk somewhere private, yeah?" The way his eyes flicked over you, smirking at the tiny shirts and tight little tank top you wore told you he wasn't looking to just talk. This was a bad idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

The next thing you knew, Ran was in your room. It was weird to see him there, in your private space. It made your stomach churn with anticipation.

"What're you doing here?" you tried again.

Ran sat on your bed, making himself comfortable. "I couldn't stay away from you any longer."

"But here? With Mikey at home?" you questioned.

"Mikey and Sanzu hang out and drink every Thursday night," Ran replied, "They always come in Friday with hangovers. I was feeling generous and bought them a few bottles of their favorite whisky for this evening. I imagine they'll both be sleeping well with how much they drank tonight." Your eyes widened as you processed his words. Ran didn't tell you that he slipped some sleeping pills in their drinks. You didn't need to know that; all you needed to know was that Mikey was very unlikely to disturb you two tonight."

"Are you saying-"

"I'm saying, if you can be quiet for me sugar, we can have some fun tonight," Ran smiled wickedly. "Whaddya say? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?"

"Yes." The words were barely past your lips when Ran pulled you on to his lap. Your straddled him, your bodies easily fitting together. You replayed Ran's kiss countless times since hooking up, but feeling it again blew your imagination away. His lips and tongue moved expertly, intoxicating you. Any concerns of getting caught fell to the wayside as your hips rolled against him, feeling hims harden under you.

In a flash, Ran had you flipped over, your hands pinned above your head. He licked his lips as he looked down at you. "God the things I would do to you if we had time." He kissed at your neck, nipping it lightly. He was careful to not leave a mark, but couldn't resist the way it made you gasp. "Promise one day I'll be able to do everything I want to you. But for now I just gotta be inside you."

You nodded eagerly, wanting to feel him in you so badly it ached. Ran practically tore your clothes off as you pawed at his. His fingers slipped between your legs, grinning smugly as he felt how slick you were. He toyed with your clit before sliding two fingers inside your tight pussy. He watched as your wriggled and gasped at him pressing your g spot.

He drank in this sight, relished the rush of having you splayed out and needy for him in Mikey's own home. Fucking you like this was the ultimate fuck you to Mikey. He could practically get off on the power trip of it alone.

Ran continued to finger you as he sucked on your tits. Your fingers tangled in his hair, scraping his scalp. He hummed in pleasure as he took your nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud as he played with your clit. The sensation grew too intense, pushing you over the edge.

You let out a moan and Ran's free hand clamped over your mouth. He secretly loved that you couldn't keep yourself quiet, but couldn't risk getting caught before he got to fuck you.

"Thought you were gonna be quiet for me?" Ran teased as you came down from your high.

"Fuck I'm sorry Ran, just felt so good," you replied breathlessly. He couldn't even pretend to be mad.

"That okay pretty girl," he replied, "But I'm gonna fuck you even better than that, so you better keep that pretty little mouth shut." You nodded eagerly, anything to get Ran inside you.

Ran stroked his long, hard cock as he spread your thighs apart more. He admiring how slick your pussy looked, his cock aching to feel you wrapped around him. He lined himself up to you, pushing in. His held fell back as his bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan.

"Fuck, angel, prepped you and you're still so fucking tight." He kept his voice low. He rolled his hips, feeling your pussy suck him. "Feels so fucking good."

You didn't trust yourself with a reply. The way Ran thrust into you made your entire body flutter with pleasure. You felt him so deep it left you breathless, his cock hitting spots in you you didn't know existed. You grabbed the back of his neck, burying your face into it. You sucked and nipped at his neck, trying to prevent yourself from crying out. The more Ran fucked you, the hotter it was to keep quiet. Your teeth sunk into the junction of his neck and shoulder and Ran relished in the sting of your bite.

"Fuck Ran," you whined against his skin as pleasure consumed your senses. Your pussy throbbed around him as you came, making his thrusts falter.

"Shit baby so good," Ran panted. His cocked twitch as he finally released, filling you with his cum. He slid out, a smug grin on his face as he watched his cum leak out of you and make a mess of your bed. He was debating if he should risk a picture when he heard the familiar metallic click of a gun cocking.

"Mikey what the fuck!" you gasped, covering yourself in your sheets, though he wasn't even looking at you. His dark, cold stare was solely on Ran as he point his gun at the lilac haired man's head.

"You're fucking dead Haitani."

[inkyquince]

The idea of Gortash and Astarion being in love with the Durge at the same time is so interesting to me. Because their both fundamentally in love with two different people. Pre-tadpole, Gortash fell for a Durge who was a slave to their urges. Astarion fell for a Durge whos regained autonomy over their mind and now has the ability to choose who they want to be.

This may be a hot take, but idc.

I feel like... From reading everything in game about Gortash and meeting him? He would be so into a redeemed Durge. Like, yeah, slight downside of their morals being a smidge too light now, but oh well.

Dark Urge had gotten free of Bhaal. The one actual barrier between them and also fully going into their plan. Remember, Durge apologised to their father for being so FOND of Gortash, they promised that they'll kill the other Chosen in Bhaal's name, etc. The one controlling all their moves? Their Father.

And they either are/want to be free of him.

Fuck, he's hard. They're so fucking strong and stubborn and perfect.

He uses guile, he uses charisma, he uses everything to get a leg up. He used his body, his joined a gang, all while younger. Now he's here. Nothing he respects more than gaining power and influence without being controlled, if his time in the House of Hope taught him anything, it's that being controlled will lead to being beaten and used and discarded.

Control is what made the Dark Urge so fucking endeared to him in the first place. They're not a mad dog, like Orin. They loose control some times but LOOK at the acts you just played through. They have SO much fucking control compared to what their urges want them to do. Gortash values control so fucking much.

But, just like Gortash, Astarion will fall in love with the Dark Urge, redeemed or not. Even if he remains a spawn, he's so soft with them. He will stay until he can't watch them loose their mind anymore. But ascended? He wants them in his lap, naked and rabid and far gone. He loves them, even as nothing better than a feral dog.

Like.... I think Astarion and Lae'zel and Shadowheart are the ones who will fully love the un-redeemed Dark Urge. Gale, as we can see after the Tiefling Massacre, will stick by you but he fucking HATES your ass for what you put him through. Wyll and Karlach leave. Even if you don't pick the nasty sides in the game, when Dark Urge gives into their... well, urges, they're horrified. Astarion, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, while not ECSTATIC are less incensed about the shit you do. Hell, when you take Bhaal's offer, everyone in the party basically... Says goodbye to the person they loved, EXCEPT Astarion. Even if you break up with him, he says that 1000 years from now, when he's forgotten how to open himself up to people, he shall spare a thought for his little lost mad love.

The fact is, Gortash and Astarion will love the Urge, just in different ways, Redeemed or Not. Hell, if the Dark Urge goes feral, Gortash will still love them properly, I feel. Ascended Astarion, like a normal Tav, will love them as a pet. For the romance of ruling by your side, to bond in blood, to adore you bringing sacrifices to his door like a cat with their prey, Gortash is the dark romance love interest you want.

[maharellasa]

I've given it a lot of thought about making a post like this, because I didn't want to just add to the already extended discourse on the subject, but I keep reading opinions and I just can't stay out of it.

Before I continue I want to make clear that I've done high approval solas playthroughs and I do believe that a befriended solas cares deeply for the inquisitor. He respects and values them, and you could even argue that they forge a kind of sibling bond or a mentor/apprentice one. So for him to betray that, it's really a tragedy in the end—the inquisitor hurts deeply for their lost friend/mentor.

That said, and I am truly, honestly, not saying this as a solasmancer, but from a storytelling point of view, the story of a romanced solas is still far more impactful.

Please let me make my case before you draw conclusions.

I am not saying it's more valid, or that you should do it, or that it should be the canon. Just, simply, that it is a more powerful story narratively, and that acting like the high approval run somehow has an equal narrative value is completely unbased. It's a meaningful story, yes, but it does not have the same impact. (To be clear, I'm not speaking in comparison to other romances here since that's based on taste and preferences, just the case of befriended vs romanced solas specifically.)

From a creative writing point of view, the romance employs:

backstory relevance: fen'harel is an important part of lavellan's culture and upbringing. and yes, arguably, that's true for any lavellan, but in the case of a romanced one, there's the beautiful narrative device of—

tragic irony: she grew up specifically being cautioned about the dread wolf's treachery, hearing blessings like "may the dreadwolf never catch your scent" etc. and what does she do? she goes and falls in love with him.The dread wolf literally takes her. A befriended lavellan might love him, but will give him nothing so vital as her heart for it to be considered "a taking". And as for other inquisitors, well, they don't even know who Fen'harel is.

unique perspective: (edit because of comments on this post) solas reveals much more of himself to a romanced inquisitor than a high approval one. "it's not right", "it's been so long since I trusted someone", "it will be kinder in the long run", "you saw more than most", and to top that, the ultimate reveal of solas telling her he can remove her vallaslin, which is his way of showing her who he truly is.

denied catharsis: one of the most essential rules of storytelling is that after you've reached the climax of the hero's journey and you've dragged them through all their struggles, you should provide a form of catharsis. that doesn't happen in the case of the romanced lavellan. she ends up alone. I'm not even saying heartbroken, because losing a friend can cause equal pain, but a solas romanced lavellan ends. up. alone. After all that she went through, after having her personhood erased and being forced into a religion that is not hers, after losing her arm and potentially her clan, she ends the journey of the inquisition standing completely alone overlooking an empire that will never thank her. and added to that, we have—

continued torment: her lover still visits her in dreams and she can't even tell if he's real or her imagination.

Yes, high approval playthroughs are enjoyable and meaningful and as much a valid canon as any. And yes, it's really unfortunate that they limited such a beautiful romance to a specific race and gender in the game. But please, please, stop trying to argue that the friendship narrative is as powerful a storytelling as the romance. And stop treating solavellans like silly fangirls who can't see past their faves. I admit that there are those who are trying to force the romance as the only valid option, but I'm not talking about those, every fandom has its radicals.

This is not an argument of whether romantic is better than platonic or vice versa. And it's not an argument of whether solas cares more for a romanced inquisitor versus a befriended one. He cares deeply in both cases. It's about the fact that, narratively speaking, the romance delivers a far greater impact to the character and the story than the high approval run.

[elsecrytt]

so i had a thought.

what if 236 is actually jujutsu tech propaganda?

mei mei is broadcasting this entire thing, right? what better way to protect gojo from bounty hunters etc., than convince the entire world that he's already dead?

the final battle happened offscreen, with significantly less fanfare. gojo rescued megumi, defeated sukuna. the day was saved.

at a cost.

gojo gave up everything - at least, everything he valued. the six eyes, his abilities as a sorcerer. he assumed that would make him a normal man, and he was right -

what he didn't realize was that it would also make him blind.

so now... you live in a nice apartment complex. a guy moves in next to you.

you can't help but notice he happens to be blind - at least, he's wearing a blindfold, uses a cane, but he's often swearing and stumbling through his porch, over his entryway. he is very, very blind.

you, wondering what the fuck up is with your obviously blind neighbor who seems to have no sense of self-preservation.

he walks into objects all the time, especially hitting his head on things, since he's so tall. forgets his cane when going out. the dude just left his door open the other day, like, WIDE OPEN, who DOES that?

helping gojo learn, not only how to be human, but how to be disabled. how to not be disgusted with being disabled.

gojo learning that being blind isn't the end of his life, nor the end of his happiness - life is still worth living, even without one of his senses.

helping gojo mourn his lost sense while still finding things to enjoy. gojo who learns to cook by taste, by feeling heat or texture, with your help. gojo learning to organize things so he always knows where they are from memory.

bringing gojo audiobook versions of your favorite stories even if he teases you for your taste. he listens to them when he has nothing to do, which is most of the time, now.

he goes out on walks all the time because he doesn't have a job, you learn. while it's nice to not have to work, you can tell he comes from money, his life comes with a gaping hole inside it, one that isn't entirely explained by the blindness.

gojo who's overstimulated all the time because he no longer has infinity as a barrier, but somehow also as touch-starved as ever, alone in a foreign country away from all his students and colleagues.

gojo, who has only ever done Big Things with his life, who has only ever been an Important Person doing world changing things, now, just an ordinary guy.

he barely cares what happens to himself now. it's not that he wants to die, or anything. it's just that he doesn't have a reason to live.

and that wouldn't change overnight. not with cooking lessons or audiobooks or friendly greetings whenever you see him by the door. not with smiles or waves (he can't see them) or a braille rubik's cube you find online (how did he solve it in under a minute??) or karaoke (he has an AMAZING singing voice, and he knows so many songs better than you do?).

it wouldn't change overnight, because nothing worthwhile forms in a day, or two, or even a week or a month.

but gojo's life doesn't have to be amazing a day after he's gone blind. or a week. or a month. it's okay if it's difficult, he learns, it's okay if he hates it, hates himself, hates every choice that brought him here, even if he would never take it back.

it's okay. it gets better. with you there? it's getting better.

[quotidianish]

ANOTHER human au art compilation! Here’s the first! More info about the AU and their cultures under cut ~

Groundwork:

-Abilities which stem from things inherent to dragon biology (fire, venom, frostbreath, gills, etc.) aren’t present. More traditionally supernatural gifts (mindreading, oracle, animus magic, etc.) are still present. In retrospect this makes the Nightwings completely op but shhh

-Each tribe is inspired off a mishmash frankenstein of different real-world cultures

-Dragons are an endangered species, just a hum in the background and nearly hunted to extinction. They’re hardly considered a threat, especially when most humans haven’t even seen one in their lives. Once the centre of each people’s culture and civilisation, they’re now nothing more than Bigfoot sightings or exotic pets.

Culture:

-Sandwings are the least homogeneous tribe and take inspiration from various cultures in the Indian subcontinent and Arab nations (most largely India and Palestine). Many subcultures exist within the larger Sandwing kingdom. Common identifies (not present in them all, but there will usually be at least one) include gold accented accessories, darker skin, and clothing with light, desaturated, yellow/orange tones. They’re renowned for their abundance of poison, excellent street food, musical talent, and stereotypically maliciously intelligent. Regardless of class there’s a nation wide pattern (you can find the reference for it by Qibli’s headscarf) symbolising trade routes, oasis waters and dunes. It’s a symbol of national pride (included on thorn’s dress, and ostrich’s headband/headscarf).

-Nightwings are, on the contrary, the most homogeneous tribe due to their small population. They’re based on Japan (spanning multiple eras). I like to think the Nightwings lost a lot of their culture after migrating to the volcano, for they were once the most religious tribe, worshiping the moon alongside the Icewings, which I’ll get to later on their cultural similarities. I promise it’ll make sense. By now, all their deeply religious traditions have been relegated to superstitions. It was said they were blessed by the moons, but the connection has been largely severed. Only old dresses follow the tradition of embroidering in the moons they were born under. Moonwatcher’s dress is something akin to a hand-me-down, as are her silver earrings, it’s by coincidence it lined up with her actual birthday. Moon’s family was an exception because she came from a long line of seers (or alleged seers) who have done their best to preserve a crumbling culture. Common identifiers include near pitch black clothing and skin as pale as the moon. 

-Icewings have some of the largest populations, however, are surprisingly homogenous. Most sub-cultural differences are as a result of class. They’re based on Mongolia and Manchuria. Like Nightwings they are also deeply religious, maintaining their beliefs through rigorous scholarship. Hair has intrinsic religious value as a gift from your family- therefore it cannot be cut. The same goes for ear piercings and any other physical alterations to your body. IceWing jewellery as a result is very distinct because of its lack of need for an ear piercing, hooking around the back of the ear instead. Common identifies include long/braided hair, and light, cool-colored clothing suited for the cold.

-Skywings are loosely Scottish inspired, and I do not have a lot to say about the rest of the tribes. Most of their clothing have feathered accents. The peregrine is a sign of luck and wealth, with their feathers being adorned on the upper classes. Geese and chickens, being common farm animals, are found adorned on working classes. The second richest tribe, employing silver, gold, lazuli, and about any gem they can find in their clothing. Common identifies include curly orange/red hair, taller statures, feathered accents, a tartan like pattern, and clothing ranging from yellow to magenta.

-Seawings are loosely based on various Polynesian cultures, most prominently that of the Māori. The sea has an intrinsic religious value to them, with all children learning to swim, sail, and/or fish. They live off the sea’s resources, rarely consulting the surrounding land for supplies. On rare occasions albatross birds and seagulls are plucked for headdresses. These are reserved for high ranked royalty. Their clothing is loose and well adapted for the warm beach setting. Common identifiers of Seawings include ta moko like tattoos, olive skin, and clothing ranging from lime to purple.

-Rainwings are loosely based on Thai, Indonesian, and Cambodian cultures. They’re colourful and have the second largest poison reserves (bested by sandwings). Having once been a trade centred tribe, now they’re isolationist, albeit not intentionally. They have many history records, almost as detailed as that of Icewings, but the art has been lost to a changing cultural atmosphere. Once too religious, now their intrinsically religious practices are more cultural. Their clothing is similar to sandwings in the fact they cover as much of the body as convenient but remain loose and breezy. Common identifiers include bronze tan skin, vibrant pigmented clothing, and flower motifs. Nightwing villages don’t follow that guideline, they build on the ground as a tribe with a focus on hunting. I’m assuming everything in this universe is made proportional to dragons, hence why the trees are so large. This assumption is based off that specific panel of Bandit in the book six graphic novel eating a blueberry as big as his head. 

-Mudwings are sooo underdeveloped in my au (following in the steps of Tui herself) but they’re based on southern Chinese and Vietnamese cultures! They live in cities akin to Chinese floating villages, Vietnamese floating markets, and Tulou (architectural style of the Chinese Hakka) made of mud bricks. They're a very agricultural based people. Many of their villages are isolated communities- their emphasis on family extending to their towns. Common identifiers include umber skin, straw conical hats, and practical clothing in shades of brown.

[time-is-restored]

do you guys every think abt death vs immortality as a thoroughline in like. literally all of the mechs albums.

old king cole is explicitly warped by immortality (never to forgive he would eternal live, his hands dyed red by gore - can be read a few ways depending on where u place the emphasis, but at the very least communicates that his wrath is facilitated By his immortality), and the olympians commit attrocities in order to hold onto their wealth and the immortality that it grants them (murdering arachne, yanking heracles' chain the second he tries to go freelance, having a monopoly on the acheron etc). the value they put on immortality and living forever, and the fear they have of ever possibly losing it, has completely warped their morals and priorities.

and while it comes up less in tbi, there's still significant emphasis placed on how odin has been in power for a century (both thor + the narrator bring it up, and there's also an emphasis on how long ago the bifrost project was started, and how 'no one left living' can explain its science). her villain monologue in rangarok iv places the extinction of asgard as an honour - a ruin that no one can possibly rebuild from is called 'apotheosis'. and as she says at the end, the idea that no one can possibly outlive her is a key draw for odin. asgard dies with her.

in hnoc, the only really immortal character is brian (and we only really know that bc of knowledge we get from outside the album), but the axis of life and death as a privilege vs a curse is still very present. 'mordred's gift to Arthur could be love in his own eyes / fating him alone to keep the life to which he clings', not only posits that the gift of survival isn't inherently good + kind (which the audience would immediately recognise as love, not possibly love), but places emphasis on the fact that arthur is now utterly alone. the station's death at the hands of mordred is hardly a happy one ('Its people damned, doomed by a man who's lost all his regrets'), but arthur's fate is arguably worse. severed from the finality and closure of death, what does he become? [insert that one cool theory abt hnoc arthur becoming old king cole here]

it's like. on a meta level, the reason we as fans don't put much emphasis on the depravity + cruelty of the mechs is bc the people portraying the mechs are all charismatic + skilled performers. in live gigs they're all portraying the fun side of their characters - roasting each other, bantering with the audience, making fun of the characters they're singing about, referencing off-screen violence - bc if they portrayed their lore too literally they'd be comitting felonies LMAOOO

but narratively, its like. literally every album is a meditation on the ways that the glorification of immortality can ruin civilisations - can ruin galaxies. whether its rooted in the fear of you specifically dying, or of being outlived, or overpowered or forgotten, or if its done for the sake of someone else's survival... it's all corrosive. if u refuse to accept the indisputable impermanence of life, you lose the ability to value it, and u numb urself to the reality of just how fucked up it is to cut another person's life short for any reason.

like. i do think some of the mechs started as good people, and some of them even might still have ethical standards, but i REALLY cannot stop thinking about how fucking. fascinating it is that this group of immortals who are KNOWN for basically considering nothing but how fun and/or violent any given activity will be, have basically filled their entire discography with songs about how their continued existence is corrosive and brings tragedy + ruin wherever they go.

so how self-aware are they? do you think those old morals + ethics still linger in their mind, when they're writing down these tragedies? they willingly self identify as liars + thieves + bastards, etc etc, and they seem to have no trouble identifying the 'bad guys' in the various albums (ie: humanising snow + cinders + rose, but not king cole), but do those concepts actually mean anything emotionally, or even theoretically, for them all beyond their dramatic potential? do they remember their lives before they were mechanised as it actually happened, or do they remember it as lyrics to a song? is it possible to be entirely self aware abt ur own capacity for violence (as jonny in paticular claims to be), if you no longer relate to violence as anything other than a narrative device - a means to an end, whether comedic or dramatic?

[shippingmyworld]

Youtuber!Timmy and Youtuber!Jimmy AU

Follow up to my Youtuber!Danny Phantom AU from this post cus I can't stop thinking about this AU.

Timmy runs a channel named Fairly Odd Creatures where he makes full-blown mockumentaries about all kinds of mythical creatures/cryptids. Once every 2-3 months he will post a video that's about 60 minutes long and the production value that goes into them is absolutely mind-blowing. People are constantly flooding his inbox, demanding to know what his secret is. There are all-out wars in the comment section of his videos (or whatever social media platform his videos are being discussed on) debating on how in the world the footage is pulled off. Nobody can agree on if it's super-advanced cgi or the best blend of makeup and props the internet has ever seen.

Timmy's secret of course is just the fact that Cosmo and Wanda will simply poof into existence whatever creature Timmy needs for his video. Then he just has to follow it around for a few hours with his camcorder and then edit the footage together.

The funniest part of his videos (and probably the reason that they're so popular) is that nothing in them is even remotely in line with what has already been popularized. For example: "Chupacabra's? Yeah, it turns out they don't drink the blood of livestock. They eat metal. Specifically, automobile metal. Don't believe me? Well I lost this Chupacabra in downtown Dimmsdale for a few hours and it ate half of this totally random car before I found it again. Here's a clip of it taking a chomp out of the tire like it's a donut." (The car belonged to Mr. Crocker and it wasn't an accident).

Each and every video Timmy uploads is guaranteed to hit number one on trending for a few hours, and then hover in the top 20 for a few days. This gives Timmy a bit of an ego, especially since whenever he posts a new one everyone at school is talking about it the next day. He tells himself that he can't reveal his identity because then he's have to explain how he's pulling everything off (his voice is disguised with a magical voice modulator that makes him sound like a dramatic narrator) and thus risk exposing Cosmo and Wanda. However, the second that Trixie off-handedly mentions she watches them he spills the beans. Thankfully for his fairies, nobody believes him.

Jimmy's channel is called Brain Blast in which he posts about his projects and the science behind them. While he does have a small and dedicated subscriber base, most of the comments on his videos are from months or years after he's uploaded them in the first place of people thanking him for posting such great study aids.

Part of the reason why he has a smaller subscriber base is because he doesn't edit his content. They're all done with a single take, which only is extremely impressive to anyone that notices. He writes the script, preps his slideshow and props, and then hits record. Even though he does plenty of "Fun Science" videos ("Alternative Travel Methods feat. Bubble Travel", "How to Launch Your Toaster into Orbit", "Make Your Own Rust in a Can", etc.) the low production and sound quality for everything gives off the same energy as those channels run by a middle-aged man recording stuff about their niche interest on their phones.

Sheen and Carl appear in most of his videos as his assistants (or lab rats depending on the context). They're pretty great helpers, despite the fact that Sheen always goes off script and Carl gets so camera shy that he forgets his lines. Jimmy has to cut in a lot with "That's an excellent question!" to get them back on track. Libby and even Cindy will make occasional appearances. In fact, most of his popular uploads come from videos that his friends requested: "How Real is the Science in Ultralord?", "Surprising Biology of Lamas!", and "The Science Behind Enjoying Music." are counted among his most popular uploads.

Cindy once tried to get her own channel up and running and was pretty popular for a while, but after a few months she decided that even part-time content creator wasn't something she wanted to invest her time into. Instead, she'll just muscle her way into Jimmy's videos on occasion. More than once she has basically hijacked Jimmy's script halfway through to talk about famous women related to whatever topic Jimmy is covering.

Jimmy can't really bring himself to interrupt Cindy's hijacking's, because whiles she's right about the contributions these famous women have made, they're not super relevant to the hyper-specific topic/experiment he's currently covering (he will just shoot a second video when he's alone and upload it to make sure all his points got covered). Eventually though, he'll get so annoyed with Cindy barging into his lab whenever she finds out he's planning to film (Sheen spills the beans to Libby all the time and she reports to Cindy) that Jimmy will begin to start most of his videos will a few quick facts that he thinks Cindy will like so she'll leave him alone.

When the Youtube algorithm starts recommending Jimmy some of Timmy's mockumentary's, Jimmy will start posting follow-up videos to Timmy's in order to debunk Fairly Odd Creatures. This in turn starts to push Brain Blast up in popularity due to association. Then a portion of Timmy's fanbase gets latched onto Jimmy. They start taking stills from Jimmy's videos to use as reaction images (because Jimmy gets very upset and frustrated with just how wrong everything in Timmy's videos are).

As to not expose himself on his channel, Timmy creates a second channel in which he uploads videos in exactly the same style as Jimmy's. He discredits this "Science" thing that Jimmy is apparently basing all his arguments on and jokes about how Jimmy sounds like a witch. The second channel isn't very popular until Jimmy posts a "In Response to..." video addressing Timmy's second channel directly. This inadvertently brings Timmy's second channel a flash rise in popularity and sparks a whole chain of video uploads between the two of them. There's a solid month of them uploading daily and basically yelling at each other about why people should unsubscribe from the other person.

Timmy throws himself heavily into the second channel (so much so that he almost forget to film content for Fairly Odd Creatures once), adopting a conspiracy theory persona that believes the earth is flat and that the moon is just a government projection. He invites his totally real alien friend Mark Chang onto the channel all the time to talk about Yugopotamia and help discredit Jimmy ("Like yeah man, I totally saw your radical disc-looking planet and had to fly down and check it out.").

And because people are normal on the internet, there's a whole sub-genre of fans that have started to ship Jimmy and Timmy's YouTube channels. 'Enemies-to-lovers' is the most popular trope for them, and there's even a whole subreddit dedicated to the ship that gets fanart and fanfics posted to it on a regular basis. Timmy is very aware of this group of fans and will occasionally sneak in an off-handed remark about Jimmy just to fuel them because he thinks it will piss off Jimmy even more. In fact, there's a whole slew of small channels that clip and compile 'JimTim Evidence' to fuel their theory that Jimmy and Timmy are secretly dating.

Little does Timmy know, there's actually a clip out there of him saying, "Jimmy may not be able to use his oversized head to deduce simple facts, but that least he can pick out glasses that make his eyes look pretty." Jimmy has watched that clip at least a thousand times on loop because he's low-key attracted to Timmy but refuses to admit it. It's part of the reason as to why he gets so worked up about Timmy's responses to him, because how can someone he's attracted to be just so wrong about everything???

[petermorwood]

How on earth did these goats get there?

*****

In reality the goats are lying on their sides on rocky ground, looking up at a crane-mounted camera. The photograph was taken some years ago, part of a series reconstructing Central European folk customs and traditions which have fallen from favour or are now prohibited.

This old-fashioned rural blood-sport was originally practiced in parts of Anatolia, Turkey, where the game was called keçi fırlatmak, and also in the Carpathian Alps of Romania, possibly imported during the Ottoman conquest. The name there was aruncarea caprei.

*****

The goats would have been coated in a strong adhesive traditionally distilled from pine resin.(represented pictorially here by darker patches of dye on the flanks) and were then thrown upwards towards a cliff or rock-face with makeshift catapults, often a primitive form of counterweight trebuchet assembled from wooden beams and weighted with rocks.

The game ended when the glue dried and lost adhesion, and the goats fell to their deaths. They were then cooked and eaten, their meat being valued like that of Spanish fighting bulls.

The meat of the last goat to fall (başarılı keçi or cea mai durabilă capră) was prized as a special delicacy and selected cuts from the legs of this particular “winner” goat were often smoked and dried into a kind of jerky.

*****

In his “Grandes Histoires Vraies d'un Voyageur le 1er Avril” (pub. Mensonges & Faussetés, Paris, 1871) French folk-historian, anthropologist and retired cavalry general Gilles-Etienne Gérârd wrote about witnessing a festival near Sighișoara, Transylvania, in 1868.

There he claims to have seen catapults improvised from jeunes arbres, très élastiques et souples - “very springy and flexible young trees” - which were drawn back with ropes and then released.

Bets were placed before the throw, and marks given afterwards, according to what way up the goats adhered and for how long. The reconstruction, with both goats upright, facing outward and still in place, shows what would have been a potential high score.

The practice has been officially banned in both countries since the late 1940s, but supposedly still occurred in more isolated areas up to the end of the 20th century. Wooden beams from which the catapults were constructed could easily be disguised as barn-rafters etc., and of course flexible trees were, and are, just trees.

*****

Gérârd’s book incorrectly calls the goat jerky “pastrami”, to which he gives the meaning "meat of preservation".

While pastrami may be a printing error for the Turkish word bastırma or the Romanian pastramă, both meaning “preserved meat”, at least one reviewer claims that Gérârd misunderstood his guide-translator, who would have been working from rural dialect to formal Romanian to scholarly French.

Since this jerky was considered a good-luck food for shepherds, mountaineers, steeplejacks and others whose work involved a risk of falling, Gérârd's assumption seems a reasonable one.

However, several critical comments on that review have dismissed its conclusion, claiming "no translator could be so clumsy", but in its defence, other comments point out confusion between slang usage in the same language.

One cites American and British English, noting that even before differences in spelling (tire / tyre, kerb / curb etc.) "guns" can mean biceps or firearms, "flat" can mean a deflated wheel or a place to live, "ass" can mean buttocks or donkey and adds, with undisguised relish, some of the more embarrassing examples.

This comment concludes that since the errors "usually make sense in context", Gérârd's misapprehension is entitled to the same respect.

*****

The good-luck aspect of the meat apparently extended to work which involved "falling safely", since its last known use was believed to be in ration packs issued to the 1. Hava İndirme Tugayı (1st Airborne Brigade) of the Turkish Army, immediately before the invasion of Cyprus in July 1974.

Nothing more recent has been officially recorded, because the presence of cameras near military bases or possible - and of course illegal - contests is strongly (sometimes forcefully) discouraged, and the sport’s very existence is increasingly dismissed as an urban or more correctly rural legend.

The official line taken by both Anatolian and Carpathian authorities is that it was only ever a joke played on tourists, similar to the Australian “Drop-bear”, the Scottish “Wild Haggis” and the North American “Jackalope”.

They dismiss the evidence of Gérârd’s personal observation as “a wild fable to encourage sales of his book”, “a city-dweller’s misinterpretation of country practices”, or even “the deliberate deception of a gullible foreigner by humorous peasants”.

And as for those paratroop ration packs, Turkish involvement in Cyprus is still such a delicate subject that the standard response remains “no comment”.

[animeomegas]

i think that uchiha omegas are vain without realizing it. for the clan it is not about fitting into the omega stereotypes that are fashionable at the time, but beauty is a type of power, certain physical features are highly valued because they are representations of the purity of the lineage. many of their beauty and makeup rituals are even excessive for other traditional clans and i find the mental image so funny. just imagine massacre au itachi looking at his little brother, his beautiful little brother omega, a pure uchiha, with slightly damaged hair and clean, short nails but not with the usual intricate patterns. he is disturbed both because it is his fault that sasuke knows almost nothing about those traditions and because he fights against the maternal instinct to clean him up and make him worthy of standards that he was raised.

This is such a beautiful ask omg, and I adore it with all my being! 🥰

I love the idea that Uchiha teach all their omegas (and probably the other dynamics too honestly) about make up, fashion, haircare etc. but with the idea that beauty is power. Their clan is beautiful, and that's part of their power and allure.

It's all practical stuff too. Here's my ideas for Uchiha clan beauty standards:

Nails should be short, but beautifully painted.

Hair should be well conditioned with expensive, but crucially scentless, hair products.

Skincare is important. (Uchiha dermatologist specialists, ahh! Non-shinobi members would for sure have the option to specialise in wellness chemistry.)

Clothing is expensive, and stunning. Traditional, but with just the right amount of cutting edge, because they aren't boring like the Hyuuga.

Grace is taught through dance, which Uchiha perform at their traditional festivals.

And Itachi being raised with all this, is intimately familiar with the rituals. He has to paint his nails for the Akatsuki, but they're done so much better than everyone else's. He still knows all the dances, although he doesn't perform them.

And you're so right, Itachi would be unnerved seeing Sasuke without any of that grooming that he would have been expected to do. He was too young for make up when the clan was slaughtered, and he'd only had his nails done by other people so he doesn't know how to do it himself.

He's probably also forgotten all the dances, and outgrown all his formal wear. He definitely doesn't bother with expensive shampoo or skincare.

He doesn't look like an Uchiha should. And Itachi realises in that moment, that even if Sasuke had countless children and revived the clan, the traditions are probably already lost forever. They will quite literally die with Itachi.

I'm imagining Itachi daydreaming about getting to paint Sasuke's nails for him, and performing the special heir dance with him at festivals. When he's face to face with Sasuke, because his mind is struggling to cope with the situation, he finds himself fixating on wanting to wash and brush Sasuke's hair properly. Because it doesn't look right.

This headcanon is perfect. Just the right amount of world building, Uchiha arrogance, and angst.

Here are my questions if anyone wants to jump in:

What sort of nail designs are popular and why?

How does this impact wedding ceremonies?

What kind of special dance rituals or dress up rituals would the heirs have to go through? Did Itachi and Sasuke do it?

How would Itachi and Sasuke feel about this in a non-massacre AU?

[lynnettys-world]

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Eight – Nothing Matters, Only You}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin: Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

words: 5.0k!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: just fluff and slight angst

Previous Next

MATERIALIST

Heaven's POV

It’s been a smooth ride for the past few days. Ever since the boys blended in with my other brothers and the staff, things have been going great. It's heartwarming to see everyone getting along so well.

Today was a significant day for us as it marked the start of our training sessions. I was bursting with excitement, eagerly anticipating the progress we'd make. The goal is for them to grow into the fierce yet compassionate predators they were born to be.

This morning, I decided to start our day early, much to the dismay of Yoongi. Anyone who knows him would understand how much he values his beauty sleep. I almost got scratched for daring to disturb his slumber. It's a known fact that he detests being woken up, except by me. There's something special about our bond that allows me to rouse him from his sleep or cuddle with him for extended periods.

However, today seemed to be a bit of a mix-up for Yoongi. Mistaking me for Jungkook, he was caught off guard when I accompanied the younger one to wake him up. Jungkook is known for his mischievous nature, especially when it comes to teasing his older brothers like Yoongi. The look on Yoongi’s face was priceless when he realized it was me and not Jungkook who was trying to wake him up.

The sight of Yoongi's confusion and Jungkook’s mischievous grin nearly drove me to laughter, despite the seriousness of the situation. It was a moment that perfectly encapsulated the unique dynamics within our little family. Yoongi glaring at me, Jungkook stifling his laughter, and me trying to maintain a serious facade while inwardly cracking up.

The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden hue over the backyard where my unsuspecting group of sleepy, pajama-clad boys stood. I couldn't help but smile as I looked at their disheveled appearances, the remnants of sleep still heavy in their eyes. It was going to be a challenge to get them up and moving, but I was determined to show them some tough love and kickstart their day with a bang.

I cleared my throat, trying to stifle a giggle as their groggy expressions turned into scowls at being awoken so early.

"Alright, listen up, boys," I announced, trying to sound authoritative despite the amusement bubbling inside me.

"You're probably wondering why I dragged you out here at the crack of dawn."

Their eyes widened slightly, the first signs of curiosity peeking through their exhaustion.

"Well, today marks the beginning of our training regimen. My brothers will be taking the lead as your instructors, with some additional experts joining us later on."

They stared at me as if I had completely lost my mind, but it wasn't long before the realization set in. Panic ensued as they scrambled to shake off their sleep-induced fog and mentally prepare for the day ahead.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of their frantic movements, a mix of amusement and fond exasperation washing over me.

As they finally began to gather, still half-asleep and disheveled, I couldn't resist a teasing remark.

"Come on, guys, let's try to look less like a pack of zombies and more like aspiring warriors, shall we? Get yourselves in formation now."

Their movements halted at my loud directive, freezing in place like guilty pups caught in the act. I couldn't help but shake my head at their antics, a mix of amusement and exasperation tugging at my lips.

"Hey, Taehyung, what do you think you're doing to poor Jungkook over there?" I called out, unable to contain my laughter at the sight of Taehyung playfully tugging on Jungkook's hair.

Jungkook shot me a mock pleading look, while Taehyung flashed a mischievous grin.

"Come on, noona, you know I'm innocent here. He started it by stepping on me!" Taehyung protested, feigning innocence with an exaggerated pout.

Jungkook rolled his eyes dramatically, trying to wriggle free from Taehyung's playful grasp.

"Don't listen to him, noona! He's just trying to save face. It was all Jin Hyung's fault; he pushed me first!" Jungkook interjected, pointing an accusing finger at Jin.

Jin raised his hands in defense, a mock look of innocence on his face.

"I only pushed him because Hoseok jabbed me in the ribs!" Jin protested, trying to shift the blame to the unsuspecting Hoseok.

And just like that, they were off, each boy pointing fingers and deflecting blame onto the next with playful banter and mock outrage.

I couldn't help but shake my head at the chaos unfolding before me, a mix of fond exasperation and amusement bubbling up inside me. It was going to be a long day indeed, but I wouldn't have it any other way with this crazy, lovable bunch of crackheads.

~Two Hours Later~

As the dust settled from the earlier chaos, my focus turned toward channeling the boys' newly found energy and determination. The moments of conflict and resistance had dissipated into the calm resolve that now emanated from their eyes.

With each of them fresh and cleansed, I could see a shift in their demeanor as they stood before me, listening intently to my instructions for the day. They seemed eager, yet unsure of what lay ahead, a mix of curiosity and determination etched onto their faces.

I took a few moments to outline our plan for the day, making sure to emphasize the importance of easing into our training session. The boys nodded in agreement, their expressions serious and focused.

"As we start off today, we'll take it easy with some warm-up exercises, theory lessons, guidelines, and practice rounds," I began, my voice firm but encouraging. "Remember, the key is to be prepared and observant in combat. Let your enemy make the first move, learn from their actions, and use it to your advantage. Their strengths could also reveal their weaknesses, just as yours could."

I paused occasionally to ensure that they were following along, gauging their understanding through their attentive expressions and occasional questions. It was important to me that they not only memorized the techniques but truly grasped the underlying principles that would guide them in their training.

As we waited for my brothers to join us, I continued to impart wisdom and strategies that I had learned over the years. I shared anecdotes from my own experiences, illustrating the importance of patience, strategy, and adaptability in combat.

The boys absorbed the information like sponges, eager to learn and improve their skills. It was clear that they were taking this training session seriously, eager to prove themselves and demonstrate their progress.

I could sense a camaraderie forming among them, a shared sense of purpose and determination that united them in their quest for mastery.

It was a satisfying sight, seeing them grow and evolve before my eyes. I knew that with dedication, perseverance, and a willingness to learn, they would continue to improve and excel in their training. And I was grateful to be a part of their journey, guiding them on the path to becoming skilled warriors in their own right.

It had been a long day waiting for my brothers to show up, and my impatience was growing by the minute. I mean, where were they? It was unlike them to be this late without a good reason. I was starting to stew in my own frustration, imagining all the things I would say to them when they finally arrived.

But just as I was about to unleash my anger, there they were, striding in as if they owned the place. Typical. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at their nonchalant attitude. I tried to keep my composure, putting on a fake smile to hide my irritation.

I couldn't resist a snarky remark, “Nice of you guys to finally join us.” I knew it would get under their skin, and sure enough, they smirked in response. My brothers always knew how to push my buttons, and they seemed to take great pleasure in it.

Dante, ever the instigator, didn't miss a beat, teasing me about my murderous thoughts. “I know you were plotting our deaths in your head,” he said with a chuckle. I couldn't help but give him a playful shove, my irritation momentarily forgotten.

Andre, the voice of reason as always, intervened before things could escalate further. “Enough, you two. Let's get started, shall we?” he said, and we all nodded in agreement.

As we began planning our training session, I couldn't help but feel grateful for my brothers. Sure, they had a knack for getting on my nerves, but deep down, I knew they always had my back. We worked well together, each of us bringing our own strengths to the table.

As we went through the training grounds, discussing strategies and giving each other pointers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie. Despite our differences and occasional squabbles, we were a team, united by our shared goals and unwavering bond as siblings.

In the end, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I could always count on my brothers to be by my side, ready to support and push me to be the best version of myself. And for that, I was grateful.

The day goes on as we warm up and prepare ourselves for the practice rounds. It's a routine we're all familiar with by now, but there's always a sense of anticipation in the air. Every practice session is a chance to improve, to get a little bit better, and to bond as a team.

Marcus, the second eldest, comes up to me. Marcus is usually a subtle and reserved kind of guy. Yeah, he does make a few jokes here and there, but not as chatty as Dante and Andre. He's the kind of guy who listens more than he speaks, but when he does say something, it's usually worth hearing.

“Hey sis, you good?” He asks, a tinge of his Italian accent slipping in and out. I can tell there's something on his mind, probably something weighing heavy on his heart.

“Yeah, I'm alright, and how are you holding up, after….” I don't finish, knowing it's a very prickly topic for him. Marcus met this girl last fall, and he immediately fell in love with her. It was so sudden, so unexpected, and yet he was sure she was the one.

How that happened, I don't know. What surprised me is that he didn't even try to do a background check on her, despite us continuously telling him to. We were worried, we were concerned, but Marcus was adamant. He refused and said he trusted her and that she was just an ordinary girl.

We could have easily done it ourselves, but we couldn't disrespect Marcus. He was always happy, and whenever he would come back from meeting her, he always had this goofy smile on his face like a kid on Christmas day. It was infectious, his happiness, his joy, his faith in this girl he barely knew.

I still remember the day he introduced her to us. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, but there was something in her eyes, something in the way she smiled that didn't sit right with me. I couldn't put my finger on it then, but now looking back, I wish I had trusted my instincts.

But Marcus, oh Marcus, he was smitten. He was blind to any doubts, any suspicions, any warning signs. He was in love, head over heels, and nothing could shake that belief he had in her.

Marcus is like a fortress, Guarded, tough, and practically untouchable. He's not the type to let just anyone in, you’ve got to earn his trust.

But then along comes this woman, and suddenly, all his walls come crashing down. It's like he's under some kind of spell or something. He's completely head over heels for her. But that's until she betrayed him.

Even though Marcus tries to play it cool, you can see right through him,

“I'm alright,” he says in that calm, collected tone of his. That’s his way of saying, "back off, don't push it."

Trust me, you do not want to see Marcus when he's angry. It's like trying to calm a storm, impossible and dangerous.

As Andre swaggered into the room with his shorts and no shirt, I couldn't help but cringe a little. But then Namjoon sauntered in, following his lead, and suddenly my ovaries were in overdrive. Namjoon was a sight to behold - tall, muscular, and just a tad underfed due to malnutrition. Thankfully, he was now looking healthier than ever, unlike those first few days when he couldn't keep anything down.

His confidence exuded an air of nonchalance as he strode into the arena, commanding attention without even trying. I found myself staring, completely captivated by his presence, until Marcus nudged me out of my daze.

"Hey, if you keep ogling with your mouth wide open, you'll catch flies," Marcus teased, earning a playful swat on the shoulder from me in response.

Turning back to Namjoon, I watched as he engaged with Andre, going over the basics of the training regimen. Seeing him so focused and dedicated only added to his charm, making it hard for me to look away. His determination was palpable, and it stirred something within me.

As they continued their discussion, I couldn't help but admire the way Namjoon absorbed every detail, his eyes focused and his body language exuding confidence. It was clear that he was committed to mastering the skills we were teaching him, and it was inspiring to witness.

It was quite interesting watching the friendship between Namjoon and Andre grow closer. They seemed to have this natural connection, always engaging in deep conversations and sharing their thoughts on various topics.

Namjoon and Andre both possessed exceptional leadership qualities and high IQ levels, making them a formidable duo. Whenever Andre visited, he would often seek out Namjoon, eager to engage in what they called "intellectual talks". From discussions on philosophy to challenging each other's viewpoints, their conversations were always thought-provoking.

I decided to put Namjoon's intelligence to the test and had him take an IQ test. I was truly impressed by the high score he achieved, showcasing his sharp intellect and analytical skills. It was no wonder that he and Andre bonded over their shared intellectual curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

But despite their impressive qualities, both Namjoon and Andre had a quirky and playful side to them. They were both self-proclaimed "dorks" and had a knack for cracking jokes and lightening the mood whenever they were together. It was refreshing to see them embrace their silly side and not take themselves too seriously.

"Okay, listen up everybody," Andre began, commanding the attention of the group.

"You guys are going to learn what I like to call The Massive Bs: Block Before Bite. This technique will teach you how to protect yourself before combat. Block before bite, to put it simply, is to avoid getting hit whilst learning your opponent's fighting technique. It might seem simple, but it's quite challenging and for you to master this technique, it requires a significant amount of toleration and resistance."

As Andre continued to explain the intricacies of the technique, the boys nodded in understanding, eager to put his teachings into practice. It was moments like these that showcased the bond not only between Namjoon and Andre but the rest of the group. Their shared passion for learning and growth brought them together, creating a unique camaraderie that was truly special to witness.

So, Namjoon was the first to be called forward with Andre leading the training session and started demonstrating the techniques, physically showing Namjoon the ropes and tricks. It was impressive how quickly Namjoon and the others picked up the techniques. They took turns practicing, and I was amazed that they were able to grasp it within just a few hours. In contrast, it had taken me a couple of days to fully master the technique myself.

Witnessing their progress left me in awe. It was inspiring to see what they were capable of achieving in such a short amount of time. It made me excited for the training ahead. I realized that it might not be as daunting as I had initially thought.

As we wrapped up our first training session, I could see that the boys were exhausted. It was clear that the training had pushed them to their limits, but they persevered and gave it their all. I couldn't help but admire their determination and work ethic. It was evident that my brothers knew how to push someone to their physical limits and help them grow stronger.

Reflecting on the day, I felt a mix of emotions - pride in their progress, amazement at their abilities, and anticipation for what was to come in our training journey. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, I was confident that we were in good hands and that together, we would be able to conquer whatever obstacles came our way.

Looking ahead, I felt a sense of excitement and motivation. I knew that with hard work, dedication, and the support of my brothers, we would be able to achieve great things. This first training session had been eye-opening, and I was ready to tackle whatever challenges came our way in the future.

I took the elevator up to my floor, exhausted after a long day. All I could think of was a hot shower to wash away the grim of sweat and dirt. As I drew closer to my door  a familiar voice calling out my name stopped me in my tracks.

"Heaven!"

I turned around to see Jin. He was standing a few feet away, looking hesitant but determined.

"Hey Jin, what's up?" I said, leaning against the wall in the hallway.

Jin shuffled his feet nervously before finally speaking up. "Is it okay if I could use the kitchen?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his fingers twisting together.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You want to use the kitchen?" I repeated, trying to understand his sudden request.

He took a deep breath before opening up to me, his words pouring out in a rush.

"Yes, I've never told you this, but I enjoy cooking. Before I was kidnapped by those men who put me in that auction where you saved us, my owner was an elderly woman. She treated me like her grandson and taught me everything I know about cooking and baking. She had a passion for trying new recipes and she passed that love on to me. But when she passed away, her grandsons threw me out of the house, and that's how I ended up in that horrible situation."

Honestly, I was surprised when Jin opened up to me about his past so quickly. It felt like a moment of genuine connection and trust between us.

I feel a mix of emotions knowing that he trusted me enough to share something so personal and troubling. But it also brought me happiness to think that he found some solace in confiding in me.

I made a silent promise to myself that I would always be there for him and the rest of the boys. I wanted them to feel safe and supported, to not have to relive any of their painful memories if they didn't want to.

As I listened to Jin speak, I couldn't help but admire his strength and resilience. It must have taken a lot for him to confront his past and share it with me. I wanted to make sure he knew how proud I was of him.

"I'm glad you told me about your past Jin," I said, my voice filled with sincerity. "You're incredibly strong for facing it head-on. I know there may be days when you feel the weight of your responsibilities as the oldest member of your pack, but please remember that you've already done so much for them. And I can confidently tell you, they all see and appreciate that."

I had noticed the moments when Jin's usual overly confident demeanor faltered, when his eyes betrayed a pain he tried to hide. It was clear that the burden of being the oldest weighed heavily on him.

I recalled how Andre once struggled with similar feelings of duty and responsibility. We had all sat down with him, reassured him that it was okay to show vulnerability, and reminded him that we were a family that supported each other no matter what.

I hoped my words had the same effect on Jin, that he felt a sense of belonging and understanding among us. I wanted him to know that he wasn't alone in his struggles and that we were here to lift him up when he needed it.

I was grateful for Jin's trust and vowed to always be there for him and the boys.

As I see Jin's face light up with relief at my words, I can't help but feel a surge of affection towards him. He's always been so caring and thoughtful towards everyone around him, it's only fair that he receives the same in return.

"Really?" He asks excitedly.

"Of course, and also you don't need my permission to use anything. Just go for it and knock yourself out," I say with a playful punch to his arm, eliciting a genuine laugh from him. His laughter is contagious, and soon enough, we're both chuckling like a couple of old friends reminiscing about good times.

I watch him as he nods in understanding, his expression softening with gratitude. Jin has always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and it warms my own heart to know that he trusts me enough to confide in me.

"Okay Jin, I'm glad we had this talk. Let me go shower, and you go do you in the kitchen, also could you please tell the young ones to go shower," I say, already mentally preparing myself for the inevitable struggle of convincing Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook to clean up. It's always a challenge with those three, but their antics never fail to bring a smile to my face.

Speaking of Jimin, trying to get him to take a bath is like wrangling a cat - quite literally, considering he's a snake hybrid. But just like any creature of habit, he resists the idea of cleanliness with all his feline stubbornness.

Jin lets out a snort of amusement, fully aware of the impending battle ahead before heading off to the kitchen to prepare something for us.

With a sigh and a shake of my head, I turn back towards my room, ready to wash away the day's worries and thoughts with a nice, hot shower. The sound of water cascading down in the bathroom soothes my mind as I let the warmth seep into my bones, washing away any lingering tension.

As I step out of the shower, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, I know that no matter what challenges may come our way, as long as we have each other's backs, we can weather any storm that comes our way.

Jin's smile and laughter echo in my mind, a constant reminder of the strength and warmth of our growing bond.

3rd Person's POV

Everyone gathered in the cozy kitchen, their stomachs growling in anticipation as the mouthwatering aroma of Jin's cooking wafted through the air. The room was abuzz with chatter and excitement, the energy palpable as they eagerly awaited the feast that was about to be served.

Jin had outdone himself, with a spread that could rival even the fanciest of restaurants. From succulent stuffed chicken to gourmet delicacies that looked straight out of a magazine, the dishes lined the kitchen counter in a tempting display. And let's not forget about the desserts - they were a work of art in themselves, guaranteed to satisfy even the sweetest tooth.

But despite the impressive array of dishes before them, Heaven knew all too well that once her brothers and hybrids dug in, it would all disappear in a flash. They had a knack for devouring everything in sight, leaving no crumb behind. It was a wonder they had never entered a food-eating contest with their insatiable appetites.

As Jin put the finishing touches on the last dish, the boys eagerly gathered around, their eyes lighting up with anticipation. They were like a pack of hungry wolves, ready to pounce on their prey at any moment. But Jin had other plans.

"Before you beasts attack, let's show some manners, shall we?" Jin teased, a playful glint in his eye. "Heaven gets first dibs. We all know she's the only one who won't inhale her food in two seconds flat."

The boys grumbled half-heartedly, but they knew better than to argue with Jin. His cooking was non-negotiable, and they dared not risk missing out on his culinary creations. With a mock bow, Heaven stepped forward, her mouth watering at the thought of finally digging in.

She filled her plate with a reasonable portion, not wanting to overdo it and risk feeling like a beached whale afterward. It was a delicate balance - wanting to savor every bite while also trying to keep up with the bottomless pits that were her companions. But she was determined to enjoy every morsel, even if it meant fending off her brothers' attempts to steal a bite.

Just as Heaven is about to turn around and tell them to get their food, they all rush in like a pack of wolves getting as much food as they can.

"I'm surrounded by a bunch of amateurs," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. Dinner goes well as they all happily converse, telling embarrassing stories about each other.

When Jay walks in looking feverish. The once cheery mood vanishes in an instant as everyone's attention turns to him.

"Ms Valentino, we have a problem," he announces with a sense of urgency in his voice that immediately puts everyone on edge.

"What is it?" Heaven asks, her usually calm demeanor now replaced with a sense of seriousness that rarely graces her expression when her loved ones are around.

"Choi Woobin has gone rogue," Jay begins, his words hanging heavily in the air as everyone processes the gravity of the situation.

And just when things couldn't get any worse, Jay drops another bombshell that sends a chill down Heaven's spine.

"He managed to escape from prison and he's plotting revenge on you, but not just you. He somehow found out about the guys and is working with Jeong-sin, Min-Soo- or should I say Black Eagle's younger brother - to get revenge," he says, each word dripping with the weight of the impending threat.

Heaven feels her blood start to boil at the mention of her beloved hybrids being put in danger once again. The mere thought of anyone laying a finger on them ignites a fire within her that is unmatched.

"These guys just don't know when to quit, do they?" Heaven's tone drips with a mixture of frustration and determination as she makes it clear that she will not stand idly by while her loved ones are threatened.

With a steely gaze and a resolve as hard as steel, Heaven knows that she must act swiftly and decisively to protect those she holds dear. The safety of her hybrids, her family, is paramount, and she will stop at nothing to ensure that they remain unharmed.

The storm may be brewing on the horizon, but Heaven is ready to weather it with all the strength and courage she possesses.

She surveyed the room, her mixed emotions bubbling beneath the surface as she looked at the faces of her hybrids. Despite their stoic expressions, she could sense the fear lingering in their eyes, a subtle tremor betraying their unease. In that moment, she made a silent vow to herself and to them, a promise etched in her heart and soul.

"I won't let you be afraid. I'll always protect you," she whispered softly, her voice carrying a determination that seemed to resonate in the air around them.

With resolve etched on her face, she rose from her seat, exchanging a knowing glance with her brothers who understood the unspoken command. Jay, ever faithful, trailed behind her as she made her way out of the room, the weight of her mission heavy in the air.

As she prepared to confront the looming threat that had plagued their existence, she knew the risks involved. There was no certainty that she would return unscathed, but such thoughts were fleeting in the face of her unwavering dedication.

I have to put an end to this once and for all. She thought, her mind focused on the task ahead.

Her determination burned brightly, a fierce flame driving her forward as she pledged silently to herself.

I will fight for you with every ounce of my being, even if it means laying down my life. She affirmed, her conviction unwavering.

The love she held for her hybrids fueled her resolve, a fierce protectiveness surging within her veins.

With each step she took towards the impending confrontation, she carried with her the weight of her promise, a solemn oath to safeguard those who depended on her. The echoes of her whispered vow lingered in the air, a testament to the depth of her devotion to those she held dear.

As she embraced the uncertainty of the coming battle, her heart remained steadfast in its commitment to shield her boys from harm. In that pivotal moment, she found strength in her unwavering bond with her hybrids, a force that drove her forward into the unknown with unwavering resolve.

For her, there was no greater purpose than ensuring the safety and happiness of those she cherished above all else, even if it meant braving the darkest of paths. And with that unshakeable resolve guiding her, she stepped into the unknown, ready to face whatever lay ahead in the name of love and protection.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey there!

I'm thrilled to share another chapter with you, filled with fluff and a tinge of angst. I really enjoyed writing this one, diving deeper into the private interactions Heaven is having with the boys. Those moments really add layers to the story, don't you think?

And let's talk about Jin - oh, what a character! I had so much fun exploring his personality a bit more in this chapter. He's definitely the quirkiest and funniest person around. I just want to tuck his cute confident ass in my pocket. He's just so precious!

I can't wait for him to return from the military. More Jin content is definitely needed.

Thank you so much for reading and being a part of this journey. Your support means the world to me. And hey, don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed this chapter. Your feedback keeps me going!

Sending you lots of love,

Your quirky AUTHOR-NIM 😆

Borahae Army 💜

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody , @strawblueberrys , @taetaeheart22 , @canarystwin , @drenix004, @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud, @nikkiordonez12, @taekritimin123, @danielle143, @//mnguyeeen7(still can't seem to tag you)

[iztea]

dy have any tips to make your art look less lifeless? I stare at my rendered digital art and everytime without fail i start to rot from the lack of soul in it

ok first of all, I think you might be judging your art too harshly. The only quite literal soulless art is AI art so as long as you create something, there's soul in it. But I understand what you mean. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm best suited to answer this since it's something I struggle with myself, but since you asked me, here are my two cents on the matter

A lifeless look in your art may come from two places: a lack of skills or a lack of message/delivery

Skill-wise, there's a looot you can do and improve on : gesture, dynamic poses, more expressive faces, better color language, strategic line expression, shape language, using color theory to better express a certain mood of a piece etc.

i could go into detail for each point but it would take too long so I'll leave it up to you to google and research things on your own ( or you can shoot me another ask if you want me to yap about a certain technical approach and I'll gladly do so)

but honestly, these are just skills and tools that you master in time. A first step is to at least acknowledge their existence. I want to talk more about the second aspect of this issue: intention. The intention behind your art is more valuable than you think. Art can feel soulless if it doesn't send any message, if it's generic, if there's no emotion behind it or if there's nothing to be interpreted. I'm not saying all art should be super deep or profound to hold value of course, but i often feel like this is a rather neglected part when discussing art. We sometimes get so tied up in the technical aspects like rendering or anatomy but the truth is, a general audience (aka the people who will see your art) doesn't give a crap about the technicalities. They judge something at face value and the first thing they look for is the /message/. What is this painting about? Who or what did you draw? The second thing they will look for is connection. When they can relate to the emotion conveyed or the subject matter, the experience becomes more rewarding and engaging. The same applies to the artist. Creating something meaningful and personal often leads to a greater sense of accomplishment. Honestly, skill comes second.

Case in point: why does hyperrealistic art get shit on? It's very impressive technique-wise, yes, you can't deny the artist isn't skilled, but does it express something? Nope, they do the job of a printer which again,. it is impressive but not from an ~artistic pov, just from a skill pov. On the flip side, why do poorly drawn sob stories get so much attention and praise? Because the art triggered a certain emotion (that has overwritten an already untrained eye) and emotions are extremely powerful for humans as we all very well know and it basically makes them ignore or neglect the execution

So, my piece of advice is to draw something that has personal meaning /to you/, that ignites a certain feeling you can't shake ( it doesn't have to be something #deep or sad, laughter and joy are equally valuable so keep that in mind), a certain situation or scenario and I can guarantee your art won't feel as lifeless to you as before. To better express this idea of yours that you now possess, you can now think about the technical side of how you'd express it. For example:

~deliberately messy brushstrokes and textures -> create chaos.

~maybe you're feeling something lovely dovey and soft -> warm colors to express that + brushes with lost edges

~maybe you want to tell a story in a comic format -> focus on calligraphy; shaky lineart gives off the impression of vulnerability; leave whitespaces etc

~something funny? -> goofy facial expressions or lowkey downgrading the quality usually makes something funnier

~Colors ! colors ! colors !!! pretty self-explanatory blues and grays for depression pinks and rainbows for the happy ( or NOT if you're feeling adventurous winkwink)

BONUS TIP: hiding/blocking out/blurring the face of your subject makes the painting feel more immersive. The viewer can relate to the person you're drawing ( "oh he's just like me fr")

There are artists who are insanely skilled but make kinda "boring" art and then there are artists with cool ideas but with maybe an underwhelming execution.

Ultimately, it's a combination of BOTH awesome skills and intentions. Those are my favourite artists. When i find someone who draws something that makes me stare and wonder how tf they drew that while also appreciating how cool the concept is I knoww I hit jackpot. And if they draw fanart of my fave?? bonus points

okkkkkkkkk i yapped for too long sorttyyyyy hope it helped maybe idk

!!!!DISCLAIMER!!!! this is all my personal interpretation and how i view things I'm self taught I've never been to art school or taken any art classes so i might be completely wrong !! take everything with a grain of salt !!