#Although one is vastly more accepted than the other

[selvepnea]

Been thinking about my body a lot

[opbackgrounds]

This scene with Sanji is one of his most important moments in the series, and in my opinion also one of the most difficult passages in the manga to interpret, because to completely understand it you have to look at the manga holistically rather than this scene by itself.

The big question that needs answered is why does Oda let Zoro "win" here by having him be the sacrifice instead of Sanji. Both are equally willing and both are identified much later on as the Wings of the Pirate King, implying that they have similar importance (although vastly different roles) within the Straw Hat crew.

If we go back to Sanji's introduction on the Baratie, his big flaw was that he lacked the "spear of spirit" to pursue his dream. Since he's been a boy he's wanted to find the All Blue, but even when he had the opportunity to go after that dream he chose to stay on the Baratie out of a feeling of obligation to Zeff. Sanji put the continued existence of the restaurant over his own life, something Luffy rightfully called him out for at the time, and even at the end of the arc had to be pushed away by Zeff and the other chefs before he finally set sail for good.

On Drum, Sanji once again almost died protecting Nami and Luffy during the avalanche, resulting in a broken back that required surgury from Dr. Kureha. Luffy again calls him out (note the English translation here isn't entirely accurate, see here for a breakdown), and with his power there's a good chance Luffy could have gotten them all out of trouble without all the dramatics by Sanji.

Something similar happens on Skypiea, when Sanji puts himself in the way of Enel so that Usopp and Nami can be saved. This case is perhaps more justifiable given the extreme situation they were in, but nonetheless he was still quick to throw his life away.

Then on Enies Lobby Nami--while not criticizing his chivalry--calls out Sanji for simply not running away from Kalifa, instead just accepting that he's going to get the shit beat out of him, and possibly die.

So there's a pattern of self-destructive behavior. Sanji repeatedly puts his life on the line when he doesn't need to in order to preserve the lives and dreams of the people he loves. Even him constantly simping over Nami and Robin falls a little into this category, because if either of them told him to take a long walk off a short pier I have no doubt he'd comply. It's that same extreme willingness to sacrifice anything and everything for the people he cares for that we see in Baby 5, except Sanji was fortunate enough to not be surrounded by people that encourage these worst impulses of self-destructive behavior. As he says here in Thriller Bark, he's just the cook. Luffy can always just find someone else.

(The glory of Whole Cake Island being Sanji realizing, no, Luffy can't, and he won't).

And it is finally on WCI that get to the heart of why Sanji is like this with yet another episode of putting his own dreams and happiness aside for the sake of others, and not until Wano that we finally see him take the first steps toward asking others for help instead of passionately throwing his life away when he doesn’t need to.

When Zoro first offered his head to Kuma, the prominence of his dream was first and foremost. Notice that Sanji never mentions the All Blue. One Piece is a series that places the pursuit of one's own ambition above all else, even if that ambition is selfish. Sanji hasn't yet learned to be selfish, so Zoro knocks him out and ends up being the one to accept Luffy's pain. Sacrifice isn't sacrifice if the person doesn't value what they're giving up, and right now Sanji clearly doesn't value his own life compared to the rest of the crew.

Next chapter Oda will speak through Brook to confirm that Sanji's willingness to give himself up wasn't foolish or stupid. It's just that he's missing a piece of the puzzle, and that's not something he'll have for a long time yet.

[whenthewallfell]

~The Many Legs of Peeta Mellark, or A Weirdly In-Depth Look at Panem Prosthetics~

Concept art for Peeta’s leg because I can (details below the cut)

Catching Fire: though the leg itself is removable, the cover is non-optional and the access panels can only be used by Capitol technicians. Due to how ornate it is it can get a bit heavy after long periods of wear, and there’s limited movement in the ankle which impedes walking. It’s designed to mimic the shape of the original leg so it fills out clothes nicely, but flashy enough to be worthy of a Victor should anyone see it. A very pretty prosthetic, but only slightly better than a peg leg. Mockingjay: this is what the prosthetic looks like without the fancy cover. It’s very no-nonsense with an advanced ankle component that has better range of motion without the casing, and features a rubber tread on the bottom of the foot blade to allow for better traction when chasing down and murdering his one true love. Although a vast improvement mobility-wise, it’s been permanently bolted to his leg and the control panels are all welded shut. Everything about this is short-term - they don’t care what happens to him once he’s killed Katniss.

Post War: when he’s caught in the explosion/fire from the bombs that got Prim his leg melts and fuses to his stump, so the doctors end up having to amputate even more. He’s given the choice to try out an experimental implant, which he accepts. This is vastly different from the other ones because he’s got so much autonomy - he can change the settings himself, remove the foot shell, opt in for a leg casing if he wants (he doesn’t). All in all it’s a very low maintenance leg, which suits him just fine, and because it’s an implant it finally feels like a part of him again.

[carlyraejepsans]

Papyrus is so weird in comparison to the rest of the cast, like a prominent theme of Undertale is how the past can hold people back and the necessity of accepting it and understanding that it should not define your present and leave you stagnant.

Toriel and her inability to protect Asriel and the children who pass through her doors, Sans and his mysterious past that he can never return to, Undyne and the pain of monsters and the monster history that she embodies more than any other character, Alphys and the determination experiments that haunt her, Mettaton and his past identity that he runs away from, Asgore and the choices he made in grief, and most importantly, Flowey/Asriel and the self he can never really go back to.

Papyrus is literally the ONLY main cast member with no relationship to the past that is holding him back in some way. Like, all of the main issues this guy faces within the narrative (his popularity and not being a member of the Royal Guard) are all issues relating to his present state, and theres no real sense that they cause him to stagnate. He's written in such a vastly different way than every other character, down to him being the only character that literally cannot kill you (the game crashes if you do). Truly insane individual.

extremely well said. although, i think he fits more with the rest of the cast if you parse undertale's story as one about self imposed narratives, as well as past mistakes as a cause of stagnation.

toriel denounced all monsterkind as violent opportunists and forced herself to suffer isolation and grief, alone, as a sense of failed duty towards asriel.

undyne did likewise, denouncing humans rather than monsters as unredeamable murderers and turning herself into a hero. she handles all of the waterfall area alone, she strengthens her resolve thinking about how much people count on her, and never confesses her feelings to alphys because she doesn't want to burden her with them in case she dies in battle

asgore and alphys, their own parallels as well, are both haunted by their past mistakes and have convinced themselves that living a lie is better than facing the truth of the damage you caused

sans lost his home and friends and is aware of the anomaly: this caused him to take up a "play the cards i'm given" attitude where he passively rolls with every punch that the current timeline throws at him, without letting himself strive for anything more than what small solace he has.

mettaton is also haunted (lol) by his past. he's also decided that, in order for his dreams to be achieved, he HAS to sacrifice the personal connections he holds dear, and that that sacrifice is one he is willing to make (first napstablook, then alphys, then the entire underground when he gains a chance to go to the surface for himself)

papyrus... well, like you said, he distinctly lacks the element of the Past to drag him back from personal development, but like the rest of the cast he DOES have the accompanying self imposed narrative with the same effect. papyrus is lonely! but he's also come to the conclusion that what would fill that loneliness is fame and a vague notion of "popularity". this leads him to not realize the value of his friendship with undyne and keep other people at arms' lenght.

still, i agree with you. his lacking a character defining past (especially in light of how much his brother's still clearly affects him) is a very peculiar writing choice. it's one of the main reasons why i think he's some kind of amnesiac

[deathbxnny]

I’ve been busy.. but that doesnt stop me from daydreaming!

Can i request platonic Vi with a best friend that is like Wriothesley? I didnt realized how similar those two are until i saw Wriothesley’s birthday art. It’s just.. mind blowing. ALSO WRIOTHESLEY AND CLORINDE, VI AND CAITLYN. DO YOU SEE IT?! Personally, i dont ship Wrio and Clorinde but i can see why people even ship them in the first place. I see them as platonic besties who support their endeavor with their respective lover (Neuvilette and Navia respectively)

Context:

Reader and Vi met in prison and just clicked bc they just understood each other. When Caitlyn came to ask Vi for help, Vi also made Caitlyn to allow reader out with her as well. Whatever happens next is your choice to make but please also note how reader is from Piltover.

That’s all and have a good day/night!

(School is just.. really busy rn and i have my final exams next week. Im honestly scared, so i might not be active for a while here. But know that i do read your stuff to time to time to destress. Also i really like the post with my navia request, tysm ^_^)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Vi with a best friend Wriothesley-like!Gn!Reader.

Your words about the Wriothesley and Clorinde comparison have enlightened something in my mind lmao. Also, good luck with your exams, Flower Anon! I really, really hope that they go well and dw about not being active much! I appreciate your support either way and hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: Reader is from Piltover, past murders, crimes, platonic relationships, Vi and Reader being a menace duo, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You and Vi had your backs from day one after meeting in Stillwater. You were both teens then, having been imprisoned under terrible circumstances, and that made you stick together as a team. There was no one else to look out for you in that hell after all.

During your long, seemingly endless time in jail, you both got to know each other perfectly, with no details about your pasts spared. She came to know about your dark past and the murder of your abusive parents rather early on, yet never judged you for it. If anything, she may have been the only one to understand you.

This was surprising, considering your vastly different upbringings. Vi came from poverty down in the slums of Zaun, whilst you once tasted silver spoons and golden dishes on the daily. But it all faded in this hellscape of a prison, where you both endured torture and pain as equals.

You became an unlikely duo out of that, one that upheld a scary and menacing reputation amongst prisoners and wards alike. She was the more angry, violent one, whilst you were a bit of a joker, your words alone enough to send shivers down anyone's spines. It made you both feel more confident and hopeful, even if a way out was unlikely after many years spent in the prison.

Now, far into your adulthood, you decided to give up on that childish dream of freedom, accepting that your life in Stillwater is all you'll ever know. You were used to it by now and built a routine to follow and survive with. But things changed when that Enforcer girl showed up.

You didn't trust her at all, despite roughly remembering who she was. And unfortunately, she remembered you two, although for all the wrong reasons she would simply scoff at. However, since Vi decided to make a deal with Caitlyn, you decided to leave the past behind and simply accept this opportunity to finally escape this place.

And so, after what felt like endless years of fighting for your survival together, you were finally permitted to breathe, mostly, fresh air and live freely again... even with the grim mission at hand that often left you having to comfort Vi whenever things got too out of hand with her emotions. Hunting down Jinx was more traumatic than she'd let on anyways.

But alas, you eventually began enjoying your time out by trying new tea and pastries, running around your okd neighborhoods, and beating up people with Vi that wronged her in the past. It was all in good fun, even if Caitlyn had to hunt you both down every time.

You were the more calmer and gentler out of the three of you, however, as your rationality and ability to lead effortlessly often came in handy. You were somewhat of a balance between the two when things got really bad, despite your own reservations, and eventually ended up being an accidental wingman with how well you spoke of Vi to Cait. You knew firsthand how bad the prejudice against Zaunites could be and would be damned if she ever mistreated Vi because of it.

Ultimately, life turned out a lot more chaotic outside than it was outside of the prison... but with your best friend at your side, you suppose things would only get more interesting from here.

[tulippanes]

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

osamu m.

.𖥔 ݁ word count 1.2k

.𖥔 ݁ warnings ➙ mentions of blood, obsession, heavily hinted at cannibalism, no specified gender for reader but hinted at fem

Osamu Miya is a man known for his food, for his talent in cooking, maybe even a little for his charming accent and sweet little smile. He cooks but he does not feed on. Other bellies will be full yet his will always be empty. A bitter thought. It's envious, almost. How others can enjoy such food, his food that he cooks. But that's just it. His food, his creation, though not his to consume. For nothing will ever fill such a nuisance of a stomach he has no matter how much he devours.

You came along, however, as a bright, shining light one may call hope; brighter than the sun itself. Your smile so sweet it almost gave him a cavity. You were so blinding he couldn't help but do a double take. Or a triple take? Quadruple? Whatever it was, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

Words escaped past your pretty lips like a melody he couldn't help but feel entranced by. "Do you have any recommendations?" you had asked.

"Everythin' here is delicious. Why not order one of everythin', hm?" he joked. You laughed, a sound of amusement that made his smile turn a little wider. Perhaps too wide.

He hummed, "Why dontcha have a seat and I'll bring a lil special somethin' out for ya?" He saw the way your eyes widened ever so slightly and how you protested. How that wouldn't be necessary and you didn't want to be a burden.

"Ya ain't bothering anyone," he affirmed. You weren't, you certainly didn't bother him. The reluctancy is notable but you found a free seat anyway. He cooked up three different onigiri, maybe he'd impress you. His restaurant isn't popular for just no reason after all.

He walked out from the kitchen and up to where you sat. The sunlight shone upon your skin and his mouth goes dry. He stared for a moment too long before he snapped out of his reverie. He came up to you while placing down the plate of food. "Enjoy," he said. With a small thank you, he watched as you ate.

A resentful feeling bubbles up inside him once more when your eyes sparkled at the immaculate taste of his own cooking. A clenched jaw soon relaxes once your eyes met his. Yes, just even looking at you felt so filling. He wondered, what would it be like to have a taste?

"It's really good! Did you make this?"

"Of course."

You praised him so genuinely it created butterflies in his stomach. Or maybe it was a grumbling noise that almost resonated gurgling.

You had left not long after a hearty conversation you gave him. The next day, you strolled inside. Then next, and the next, and every other day after you came and ate. No matter how short nor how long your stay was, you were always there. There was a connection, although his definition of connection is vastly different from what you may had imagined. Your very being, your very presence, caused the vacant belly of his to stop its painful twisting and turning of guts. His hunger was a thing of the past when he was with you.

You were his faith, whether it was to your knowledge or not.

He asked you to a date on a fateful day and you accepted. To you, that had been your first error. To him, that was his first success. Such a wonderful night ended on such a wonderful note. A kiss under the moonlight, in darkness that prevails all. It was passionate and suffocating. He had to savor your taste to not forget, to relish in this consumption that was purely you. Had you not tapped his shoulder, such kiss would have been one of death. He apologized, you said it was alright. Your second error and his clock was ticking.

The more time spent the less your presence fulfilled that aching starvation. He needed more, he needed the whole of you. That crazed look in his eye hidden behind a façade of affection. Well, he did like you. He loved you just in an aberrant manner.

He was getting desperate, nipping at your skin that can be deemed as playful but was so much more deeper than just "playful". You teased how he could eat you up if he could. He laughed in response.

"I would," he teased back. You didn't think of it any more than measly silly banter. You possibly should've.

He invited you to Onigiri Miya after closing hours to celebrate the month you two have been together for. You dressed up to prettily for him that he cooed once his gaze landed upon you. You were perfect. Then that grumbling belly of his echoes throughout the empty restaurant.

"Someone's hungry," you giggled.

Osamu simply smiled and brought you into an embrace. He nuzzled his face to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent that was uniquely you. The noise of his stomach grew louder and the want was too overwhelming. It'd always been the same thing. He ate and was left unfulfilled. The more food he swallowed, the more he ached to skew the hunger away.

He'd almost forgot you were the beaming light in his life. You were there for a reason, for a meaning. A meaning he would meet that night. This would be the last error you'd make and this would be the last puzzle piece he'd place.

His arms tightened around you, the action caused you to pat his back. "You're awfully clingy tonight," you awkwardly chuckled. He said nothing in return.

Then his arms tightened more, veins bulging out from his skin. You called his name but there was so answer. The cracking of a twig and his arms loosened. He'd hold you close, gentler, as your body ran cold. He would have to heat you up in some way, wouldn't he?

Your skin as soft as it always was, his teeth sinked in. A rusted crimson flowing out with a distinct metallic smell that can quickly turn pungent and acidic fills the air. A simple glimpse of the vital fluid may make one feel faint or even retch at the smell. Not for him, not for his inconvenience of an empty belly he had.

The view of the color is what made his hungry grey eyes grow wide; his pupils to dilated with a sense of satisfaction. It's enough for his lips to part with heavy breaths, drool dribbled down his chin similar to a slobbering dog awaiting its meal.

It's never easy to fill the anomaly he called starvation. He'd searched for nourishment that was desperately desired and he found it. He found it within you. Osamu would wipe the fluid that resembled red lipstick off his lips, staring down at you; the person that'd ameliorated his deep gutted hunger that constantly haunted.

You'd become one with him as you belonged. It was fate. It's become a clarity that would soon be gone, until the hunger returns as it's destined to be. He'd still have you in a form of which is taboo. But at least it's still you. It'll always be you.

a/n first oneshot n its abt cannibalism💀 inspired by an essay i did for my english class ok its almost 2 am and this got me out of my writers block now im tired

[avonne-writes]

hm I think its very interesting that although u think buck bottoms more, they're still willing to switch (I really agree with this take and I actually think it makes the most sense). how do u think sex changes when who tops/bottoms changes and why do u think they each prefer both (basically what im saying is what is it about bottoming and topping that's each of their favourite parts)!

It's always interesting to talk about these intimacy headcanons! These can differ vastly based on how you interpret the characters, but this is my take on it.

Headcanons under the cut:

In general, how sex changes for them

If Bucky bottoms, it's rougher, which is what he wants. He knows he shouldn't be rough the other way around.

On normal days, regardless of who tops or bottoms, Gale helps calm Bucky's excitable energy. He's more in control of the situation.

On Gale's vulnerable days, he’s going to bottom and will put everything into Bucky's hands.

Buck's personal preferences

When he bottoms, it feels like an affirmation of trust to him, and it's something he likes to give to Bucky.

As a bottom, he likes not having to wonder if it's good enough because it's obvious from how hard Bucky is.

He likes the weight of Bucky's body on him, of Bucky manhandling him and holding him in the position they want. It makes him feel so safe and loved. Usually, he's still calling the shots but if he’s having one of those submissive nights all of this is amplified. (you will see in detail in the subspace fic)

This isn’t something conscious but he also just enjoys being given things, and yes, that includes a certain part of Bucky's body.

Finally, just something as simple as the physical sensation - he just loves that kind of deep, slowly building pleasure you get from prostate stimulation more than the faster but shallower sensation of topping.

Topping is nice too, and he especially likes how he can basically fuck the restlessness out of Bucky if he does it well.

That said, he’s flexible about top-bottom roles and quite inflexible about submission and dominance. He’ll keep the reins in his hands for the most part on normal days and submit completely on difficult days. By this I mean on normal days, he doesn’t mind or even likes that Bucky doesn’t submit to him and there's always this playful push back, but he won't relinquish the final say. He'll keep the control. But on submissive days, he doesn’t make any decisions and can’t be provoked to take back control. He'd just end the encounter if Bucky tried.

Obviously, his submission is a bit of a whiplash at first but it all starts to make sense to Bucky when he realizes it comes from a combination of deep trust + emotional distress + inability to articulate a need for comfort + inability to accept comfort unless he’s made to take it.

Bucky's personal preferences

It's likely that the only person he has ever bottomed for is Gale. Even if he had other sexual contact with men before, he’s too big and doesn’t have the personality to draw attention from tops. He was a womanizer too, so being on the receiving end is something way less familiar to him.

He loves bottoming the most when it hurts just right. He has masochistic tendencies so the pain of that stretch makes him rock hard. He always tries to goad or urge Gale into putting it in after only the slightest prep.

He also likes play-fighting and wrestling, and if Gale tops, he’ll constantly try to move and squirm and buck against him just to make Gale put him harder in his place. (He's a brat)

He prefers topping because of 1) the visuals(!!), 2) the sensations - yes, he prefers something tight squeezing around him to something hard pushing into him, 3) he loves giving things, including that certain body part 😉, 4) he loves the idea that he’s of service as a man.

He likes putting his entire body weight on Gale even in a non-sexual way, but even more so when they're making love. He had to be more careful with the women he slept with, but not with Gale.

Gale's submissive nights are a challenge to him but they’re also the most rewarding.

These are the headcanons that came to my mind at the moment but I feel like there are more things that can be said about this. What do you guys think?

[late-to-the-party-81]

Power Play - Chapter 2

AN: Thank you all for your amazing response to part one. It was vastly unexpected and meant that I felt like you all deserved a bit more than just filthy ramblings, so hopefully I have got the plot balance right. Again, a big thanks to @buckybarnesevents

I’ve chosen the prompt How do you want me... Spread open.

Beta’d by @buckysbarne

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and banner by me

Master list | Hot Bucky Summer Master list | Chapter 1

Summary: You settle into Bucky’s mansion and he imparts some important information about your former colleagues.

Relationship: Mob! Bucky x Undercover Agent! Reader

WC: 2.7k

CW: Soft!Dark! Bucky, Stalking, Very slight somno (blink and you’ll miss it), Dirty talk, Angst, Alcohol consumption, Themes of betrayal, more kissing, Russian Pet names as mangled by Google translate, John Walker and Lemar Hoskins being misogynistic PoS’.

Although you hadn’t accepted Bucky’s rather tempting offer, you hadn’t outright rejected it either. The man himself seemed to think it was a done deal, because after he’d finished kissing you - leaving you dizzy and aching - he’d untied the rest of your bonds.

A telling smile had spread across his face as you just stood there, rubbing at your wrists and ankles, not trying to attack him or escape.

“Come, Pchelka.”

He didn’t offer any more, and you didn’t ask in your tired and confused state, just followed him out of his study and down the corridor of his opulent home, like a puppy at its master’s heel. 

There were a few other people walking the halls, mainly big, imposing men in black suits, but there were a few women too, who looked like staff. Bucky led you up a large staircase, and along another hallway until he got to a pair of double doors. He pushed one open with ease and gestured for you to walk through.

You took a few tentative steps across the threshold and then whirled around to look at him open-mouthed.

“What is this, Mr Barnes?”

“What does it look like, milyy? It’s a bedroom.”

You looked at him with trepidation and suspicion.

“Is it yours?”

Bucky just chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth and your suspicion turned to embarrassment.

“No, it is not. But mine is just through the adjoining door if you’d like to go there instead? A little eager, aren’t you?” 

“Well… I… you said you wanted me.”

Oh God! Could the world just swallow you already?

Suddenly, Bucky crowded into your personal space and you could feel the heat radiating off him. Smell his cologne.

“I do want you, Pchelka. I want you spread open for me. Needy and wet. Begging for me to fuck you.”

His hand came up to stroke the side of your face and over your hair and your eyelids fluttered.

“But it isn’t time for that. Yet. No, for now this room is for you, and you alone. You must be tired, hungry and in need of a wash. Please feel free to use anything in this room or the en-suite. I will organise some food for you.

“Can I leave?”

It was his turn to give you a questioning look.

“I don’t believe you’d want to leave this.” For a moment you thought he was talking about the opulence of his dwelling, but he caught you off guard again, cupping your face and giving you a deep, but all too brief, kiss before slipping out of the door. You heard a key turn in the lock and realised that you were once again trapped. With a sigh you decided that there was no point in hurting yourself trying to escape - a small voice in your head even questioned whether you even wanted to - and decided to explore your gilded cage.

The room was brightly decorated. There was still the dark wood that prevailed in the rest of the house - or what you’d seen of it so far - but the walls were covered in a yellow and cream wallpaper. The carpet, so deep and plush it felt like a cloud under your bare feet, was also cream, and the drapes matched the yellow of the walls perfectly. The bed was large, kingsized, with dark wood head and foot boards. The counterpane was also in the same tones and the room felt spring-like because of it. There were other doors in the room. Two on one side and one on the other. The lone door was the one that Bucky had indicated led to his room.

With a few steps, you crossed the space and tried the handle. It didn’t budge - there was no way out there - and you weren’t sure why you felt disappointed, but it wasn’t because an escape route was blocked. Moving across the room you tried the first of the two doors on that side. 

It was a walk in closet, but didn’t look as you’d expected. If this was a guest room it should have been empty, but it wasn’t. It was filled with rack after rack of clothes; suits, skirts, tops, dresses, jeans. You walked past them, running your hand over the expensive fabrics. One dress in particular caught your eye. It was a rich, sapphire blue colour, made of satin and when you slipped it off the hanger to look at it closer you were surprised to see that not only was it your size, the tag was still attached. You checked a pair of jeans and found the same. 

On the opposite side of the closet was a large shoe rack with a similarly eclectic selection, any type of shoe anyone would ever want. Again, they were all brand new and in your size. There was a sinking feeling in your chest. The drawers full of high end lingerie confirmed your suspicions. The clothes and the shoes could be a coincidence, but there is no way anyone would be able to accurately guess what size bra you wore. He’d said he’d been watching you, but you hadn’t thought he’d meant that closely.

Leaving the closet and not knowing what to make of it all, you went to the other door which, as you had surmised, was the en-suite. It was just as luxurious as the rest of your lodgings, and stocked, unsurprisingly now, with your preferred brands and scents of toiletries. You should feel creeped out. 

Should.

To take your mind off it all you decided to have a shower. Bucky was right, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You were in need of a wash and you were really tired, not really having slept since you were taken by him and his men at the gala.

You took it slow - there was no need to rush after all - and after indulging yourself in a way you hadn’t in a long time you padded back into the closet. There was no need to look a gift horse in the mouth after all. 

Digging around, you found a pair of pyjamas - silk, of course -  to put on, and climbed onto the bed for a well needed rest.

“Wake up, Pchelka.”

You were so warm and cosy, and despite the insistence of the voice in your ear, your body was resisting. You let out a grumpy mumble and heard some quiet laughter in response. 

“You must be hungry, lyubimyy. I’ve bought you some food.”

“Five more minutes…” you muttered, your mind still wrapped up in a thick blanket of sleep.

However, the fog started to lift as warm kisses, accompanied by the slight scratch of facial hair, littered your neck and face, setting your body alight. You sighed happily, enjoying the sensations, your half-asleep mind creating scenarios in your head and…

It was like your brain suddenly came online and you sat up with a start, your heart thudding in your chest and embarrassment suffusing your being. You clutched a hand to the front of your pyjamas as you took in your captor. He’d abandoned his suit jacket and sunglasses, and rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt. As he looked at you, amusement in his eyes, he placed a toothpick between his teeth. 

Why was that so goddamn sexy?

Ignoring your reaction, both to his wake up kisses and to your realisation about what was going on, he gestured towards the tray on the small table near your bed.

“I brought you some food, lyubimaya. Come. Eat.”

He stood by one of the chairs and pulled it out, an obvious invitation for you to sit. You moved hesitantly, sliding off the bed and padding over the carpet, ducking your head in acknowledgement of his chivalry as he tucked the chair in under you as you sat down.

Bucky then took the cloche off the tray, revealing two portions of smoked salmon and Eggs Benedict on toasted English muffins, along with a teapot and two cups. He placed one plate in front of you and then sat down opposite you. He poured out the tea, and the smell of calming chamomile wafted over you. 

The food looked good and as the first taste hit your tongue you realised how hungry you actually were. In fact, it wasn’t until you’d almost emptied your plate that you realised that you’d hadn’t even spoken a word to Bucky. Looking over at him you saw he was smiling at you indulgently, an unexpectedly soft look on his face. Butterflies danced in your stomach and you grabbed your tea cup, taking a large swig of the hot floral liquid in an attempt to squash the tingling feeling within you.

“Erm… thank you for the food. It was delicious.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Pchelka.” He took a drink from his own teacup and you found yourself transfixed by the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “Now that you’ve had some rest, I have some things to show you. So, if you’d like to get dressed I’ll come back in ten minutes for you.”

His tone was calm, congenial, and suggested that the thought that you wouldn’t comply hadn’t entered his head. To be honest, you didn’t feel any need to be combative anyway. 

Eleven minutes later he knocked on your door again. You’d picked out a pair of jeans, a soft sweater and a pair of canvas slip-ons and were revelling in how much nicer the expensive clothes felt on you. When you opened the door to him, you were beaming and he smiled back. It was easy to forget that he’d fought you, kidnapped you, that he was technically your enemy. For the most part he’d treated you much better than any of your colleagues.

Barnes took hold of one of your hands and brought it up to his lips, keeping his eyes on you the whole time.

“You look beautiful, sladkiy. However, now it’s time to talk business, as unpleasant as that may be.”

He hooked your arm into the crook of his and walked the pair of you back down the stairs and hallway to his office. As you entered you were surprised to see that the chair you’d been tied to earlier on had disappeared, with Bucky offering you the much plusher option opposite his desk.

Once you’d sat, Bucky moved back over to his bar. He poured two tumblers of scotch and then opened a mini fridge, taking out a bottle of water. He placed it, and one of the crystal glasses, in front of you.

“Have some water, milyy. Then I have some things for you to listen to, after which you might need the other drink.”

The air in the room was heavy, a sense of foreboding settling upon you, but you did as he said, cracking the seal on the bottle and drinking almost half the small bottle in one go.

Bucky was perched up on the desk once more, and as you placed the lid back on the water, he pulled his laptop towards him and spun it so that the screen faced you. With a few deft clicks he pulled up an audio file and pressed play.

At first the sound was muffled, sounding as though it was coming from down a drain, but after a bit of static it suddenly cleared, and you recognised the voice of your boss, John Walker.

Walker was tall, blonde, good-looking and slimy as hell. You hadn’t expected someone of his age - your age - to be part of the ‘boys’ club, but you’d been unpleasantly surprised. He was overt in his sexual appraisal of you and behaved in a generally toxic manner. You surmised that he must just be that good at his job that the higher-ups were willing to overlook the fact he was a walking HR nightmare. Either that, or he was so well connected he was untouchable.

When you’d been picked for this op, you’d been so excited you’d put aside all your reservations about him, ignoring the comments that were a little too close to the line. Now, listening to the recording, you wished you hadn’t.

“So… you think the piece of fluff can actually handle getting intel on Barnes?”

That was Hoskins, Walker’s partner in crime.

“Well, if - when - she fucks it up, it’ll fall on her, not me. And it’ll stop her from getting ideas above her station. Should fucking stay with filing and looking cute. Would be better if she put out though. Frigid bitch.”

There was a slap noise, probably a ‘bro’ high-five, and two disturbing chuckles.

“So you reckon she’s gonna blow it?” Hoskins again, then a snort from Walker.

“Reckon? I know it. She’ll be made as soon as she makes contact.”

Another chuckle, and you felt a sick feeling churning in your gut. “She piss you off that much? What do you think Barnes will do when she tries to make contact?”

“Dunno. Probably just ignore her overtures. He won’t do anything over the top - he won’t want to draw attention. Her failure will put her back in her place, then maybe the boss will go with my plan. Can’t believe they went with the ‘honeypot’, but at least they picked her outta all the other candidates.”

“Won’t you get backlash for recommending someone who fucks up so royally?”

“I gave them a number of options. Is it my fault if, on paper, she looked like the best one?”

“You dog.” The laughter this time was more than just small chuckles and you felt the bile rising in your throat. “Come on - Let’s go get a drink. We can toast to the downfall of the airhead and your rising star.”

There was the sound of people and papers being moved about, footsteps and a door closing and then the recording came to an end. As it did you realised how hard you were gripping the arms of the chair. You looked up at Barnes, willing the tears in your eyes not to fall. You expected him to look amused, or smug, but he wasn’t. He looked… concerned, and somehow that was worse.

“Walker’s the mole? He fed you information about me just so this op would fail and he could swoop in and take over?”

“Not him directly. He wants to bring me down to make himself look good, but he knows who the mole is and may have dropped some important information in the right place at the right time. He’s trying to play the long game, not knowing it’s gonna backfire.”

You took hold of the tumbler of scotch and threw it back, coughing slightly at the strength of it, but determined that you wouldn’t show weakness in front of Barnes.

“So what made you pull off this charade? You could have just done what Walker thought you were gonna do. You could have just ignored me.”

“Pchelka, it would be impossible to ignore you. Especially after I learnt everything about you. I was curious, why would Walker wish your downfall? So I tailed you. Investigated you. And I was both impressed and appalled. Impressed by you and appalled by those apes you work with. You are so much better than them in every way and they aren’t even deserving to be scraped off your shoe.”

“You stalked me. You broke into my apartment and found out what size clothes I wear. What toiletries I use. And you are asking me to trust you?”

He stood up from where he’d perched himself and crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his own. The thought that you’d found yourself in this position with this man a number of times now flitted through your mind.

“I never meant you any harm. I wanted to be ready for you. To make the transition, should you choose to take it, seamless. Join me, sladkiy. Get your revenge. Live your best life. You can be successful and powerful, and above all respected and cherished.”

He’d commented earlier in the day about how he wanted you spread open, and you felt that way now, albeit in a different way to how he’d meant it. You felt stretched out. Raw. Thin. Burning with anger and shame. Rage and embarrassment. Probably not the best state to be making life changing decisions in, but you’d been sensible your entire life and where had it gotten you?

You looked up into his eyes, the cool icy depths tempting you in, so you dove with abandon.

“Yes.” You uttered your reply, and for the first time took what you wanted, bringing your lips to his.

Chapter 3

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

[backtraf]

Checking his watch, Anthony bit his lip. It was 11:30, and his nerves were catching back up to him. What if Shane said no? He shook his head quickly, dispelling the traitorous thoughts from his mind. They had exchanged so many I love yous that it was hard to imagine a life without him.

Still, Shane might not be ready, and Anthony would need to accept that if that was the case. Shane's happiness was all that he cared about. Even if he did say no, Anthony would still try and get him out of working at Joja. Marnie had told him that, while that corporate nightmare was not the start of Shane's depression, it did make it a lot worse.

He remembered his own corporate hell working for the same company, though with vastly different scenery. He felt his pocket for what felt like the hundredth time for the pendant and let out a breath of relief as though he had thought he forgot it at home.

"Anthony?"

Anthony whirled around on his toes, his eyes blinking in surprise. Had half an hour already gone by so quickly? Shane stood there in his trademark hoodie, although it was zipped up right now. It was rather chilly at the moment. Shane's hands were tucked into his pockets to stave off the cold.

"Marnie said you wanted to meet me here. She was rather excited about the whole thing," Shane said, amusement filling his voice.

Anthony rolled his eyes. At least she didn't say anything. "Yeah, was just wondering if you wanted to go for a stroll."

"A but late for a stroll, don't you think?" Shane asked, stepping up to him.

Anthony could smell the scent of the Stardrop Saloon on him, but his breath remained free of the smell of alcohol. He felt relief come over him. The saloon was still a favorite pit stop after a long day at work, but he was still staying clean.

Anthony gave a small shrug and smiled, extending his elbow for Shane to hook his arm around. "Joja had you all day, I want you all night."

Shane felt his face heat up, and he made a face somewhere between appalled and amused. He slipped his arm around Anthony's and mumbled, "You could've just snatched me from the Stardrop. Woulda followed you..."

A smile stretched across Anthony's face as they began to walk across the sand, letting silence fall between them. It was comfortable, no awkward tension. They walked for a while before Anthony pulled them to a stop, watching the waves lap lazily against the shore.

"You know. I've always had a hard time with relationships in my life. Felt like I would never find the one."

He felt Shane stiffen next to him, and he internally cursed. He turned to look Shane in the eyes, removing his arm from the other's hold. His hand moved down to his pocket, again checking to make sure it was there. The expression on Shane's face looked sad, and Anthony wanted nothing more than to make sure he never looked sad again.

"Everything kept getting in the way. Life, work, money. Then I moved here and met all these wonderful people and ran into a grumpy man who's been through the same shit I've been through. A life that just kept dealing him a shit hand."

The expression on Shane's face shifted into something Anthony couldn't quite place. He took a single step away from him and got down on one knee, pulling the pendant free from his pocket.

"I'm not very knowledgeable with the traditions of proposals here in this little valley, but I know it starts with this little pendant." Anthony held it carefully in his hands as he looked up at Shane's face. Tears collected in Shane's eyes as he looked down at Anthony, shock written clearly on his face. "Shane... will you marry me?"

"I..." Shane's face contorted, and he turned away and let out a sob, his hands wiping furiously at his face. "Oh my god, I'm ruining it, I'm sorry... fuck... yes!"

He turned back to Anthony and fell down onto his knees, throwing his arms around Anthony's neck.

Anthony had felt his heart in his throat for a few minutes, fearing that the other would reject him, but now he felt as though his heart would burst from the joy that filled him.

[utilitycaster]

It's not like most fans don't care enough about the reasons why FCG would do that to put any thought about it, no no no, this is clearly Sam FCG being so so selfish and inconsiderate to the rest of the characters (sarcasm)

I think a bunch of the criticism is valid, but some critters just grabbed what Taliesin said in 4SD and ran with it without analysing more than surface level. Like, don't get me wrong, Tal is very much correct, and Imogen is more than in her right to be mad at FCG, but it's almost like those fans are dead set on the idea that Imogen is the protagonist (something Laura seems to be very hurt by the idea) and god forbid the comedic relief character does something to ruin her story

Hi anon,

I'm going to save my longer discussion for a separate ask or a post, and I agree with most of this, but I do want to clarify or push back on a few things. It's a relatively small if particularly loud and dumb group, honestly, all things considered, who are saying this. For what it's worth, I do not actually think it's terribly valid for Imogen to be as harsh with FCG as she is - again, she didn't have to follow them in the first place and she had a chance to leave. She reminds me of a guy in one of my grad school practicums (practica?) who, whenever something went wrong, would say "I said this wouldn't work" (he hadn't) until one late night I lost my shit at him, which, not proud about, but he did shut the fuck up. Anyway, this is what I plan to write some more about elsewhere, but Imogen is deeply judgmental and impatient and dismissive of most people, even her allies.

I also want to clarify on the comic relief designation because I think you're saying that from the perspective of the "um, actually, Imogen is a perfect sweet baby victim who never did anything wrong and everyone is so mean to me - I mean her" crowd but like...Liam said it best in the TLOVM watch parties. The thing about "comic relief" characters is that in the set up of them as kind of ridiculous, you provide a huge potential for a drop into tragedy; when Grog or Scanlan are upset it's particularly moving because they're usually being silly. Like, I've been critical myself of some of the credit Sam has gotten in the past for fairly basic D&D choices (although while Sam gets that credit you are correct that the fandom rarely considers him a favorite), but the reason even those simpler moments hit so hard is because you don't expect them from a character you've mentally shoved into the "comic relief" slot.

I've found FCG's exploration of religion - which is realistically clumsy and misguided and at times silly, but also incredibly earnest and true - to be an unexpected highlight, and like, it's fine if people don't like it, but like, go to therapy for your religious trauma; FCG is extremely not the cause, and in the end both FCG and FRIDA believe it is good to be there behind the gate to help people! Look, I would vastly prefer altruism that comes from a genuine empathy for other people and desire to provide from their needs rather than it coming from a desire to collect Heaven Reward Points (not that I think that's what FCG is doing, nor the motivation for all religiously-originated altruism, but I suspect that's how some people are reading it), but like, the homeless shelter open to people of all backgrounds and genders isn't interrogating the reasons why various people donate. A good deed is a good deed and FCG is doing this to help the trapped people and, later, Umudara.

Finally, what's interesting to me about that line from Taliesin is that I agree with Ashton that FCG's self-sacrifice is a liability...but look at Ashton! Look at Ashton, who will without thinking accept indebtedness to Jiana Hexum because it's what they think they deserve! Pot, meet kettle! I think Ashton is far too cynical for martyrdom, and does have a self-preservation instinct, but good lord does he hate himself sometimes to the point of punishment, and that's really not much different and nearly as much of a liability.

[coffeeebomb]

Tav Introduction Time

Yoinked from @slusheeduck (seriously, go check em out, Casual Banter was one of the first things I found when really getting into BG3 fanworks and it was amazing)

Zhanarya "Tav" Tavianos, Wood Half Elf, Ranger-Rogue, 38

Favorite weapon(s): Unsurprisingly, a bow. Though she's more than adept with a pair of blades when needed.

Style of combat: Mostly long-ranged combat. Depending on the situation, she’s either covering you or opening the fight. When out of arrows, she falls back to stabby ambushing. Her melee combat has vastly improved after convincing people to spar with her on the regular (mishaps be damned). Once she got comfortable with the party, they were subjected to her harebrained experimenting with the esteemed Yeet™ school of combat.

Most prized possession: Her jewelry because of their sentimental value. The sussur dagger they forged in Moonhaven/Blighted Village is a close second.

Deepest desire: To be wanted in a close-knit family.

Guilty pleasure: 'Fancy living', she's lived vicariously through her time guarding (or hunting down) wealthier folks that she's grown curious to know what it's like.

Best-kept secret(s): What she was actually jailed for. On a less serious note, it'd be figuring out which of her eyes was the fake one.

Greatest strength: Her composure. Her experiences in travelling solo and in groups have done a lot in teaching her how to deal with whatever's thrown her way (and how to keep it concealed).

Fatal flaw: Her tendency to internalise things often devolves into concluding that she can only depend on herself to fix whatever disaster she’s gotten herself into.

Favorite smell(s): The morning forest air. Or freshly baked goods from market stalls.

Favorite spell or cantrip: Misty step during combat, 'speak to animals' in other occasions.

Pet peeve(s): Bird puns (made even worse after Halsin drew the connection between her and a shrike), slow walking, when people touch her “organised chaos”.

Bad habit: Hoarding tendencies, her lockpicks can be found just about everywhere and on everyone in camp. This isn’t helped by her sticky fingers either.

Hidden talent: Jewelry making. Picked it up when she was apprenticing with a fletcher (who was married to a silversmith).

Leisure activity: Perching/lounging in high spots.

Favorite drink: Spiced tea (if didn’t need copious amounts of caffeine).

Comfort food: Steamed buns.

Favorite person: Usually it depends on what she’s up to. Platonically, she's closest to Wyll, who was a brother-figure, source of moral guidance and indulger of “fancy bullshit” (which was universally accepted to be less destructive than her theory crafting sessions with Gale) all rolled into one. His deal with Mizora was the first time she realized she wanted to get involved with this band of lunatics and not book it the moment she was tadpole-free. Romantically, it’s Astarion, although it was a long process of getting their shit together and figuring out what they wanted that didn’t involve threats of maiming, emotional constipation and roundabout banter. Chaos and roguish mischief are guaranteed when they’re both on the same page, something everyone has learnt the hard way.

Favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): Quality time (she’s more than accustomed to hanging around in one spot for hours on end) and/or acts of service (which could be either a little favour or death by a dozen arrows). Though people were quick to catch on that if there are items involved there were most often stolen goods.

Fondest childhood memory: camping/hunting trips with her adopted parents.

Tagging anybody interested to try this out, now go.

[r0-boat]

Please if it's not too much trouble either Tarzan!twins or Mc Warden twins content. Can be thirst, can be wholesome either is fine! ^^

Let's do some Tarzan!twins

First Contact

Tarzan!Emmet x reader

( yet another HTTYD parallel)

Cw: a Pokémon and Emmet were harmed in this sick, but you help them out. Emmet hurts you with murderous intent, my shitty attempt at angst.

As a member of the Galaxy Corp. Your job was not only to study and document the many kinds of Pokemon species in Hisui, but also to be that bridge between people and Pokemon.

The people of Jubilive Village seem to be open-minded about Pokémon however of course there will be some people who will never accept the thought of Pokemon being into their lives.

It was disheartening seeing so many giant Pokemon traps scattered about, shallowly buried into the ground like a Galerian stun-fisk, its serrated metal teeth trapping the poor limbs of any Pokemon that walked near the placed bait in the center of the Trap. In your old time... which was technically the future, you've only ever seen these traps rested and broken in museums or just pictures of them online; seeing them up close made your skin crawl. Granted, these are smaller but you had seen larger ones.

As you were digging up and disarming one of the Pokemon traps you hear a faint cry from farther away. Careful not to step on any more traps by accident you push past the Untamed vegetation. As you got closer the cries got louder, not wanting to scare the Pokemon into struggling against the Trap, potentially hurting itself more. Your stride slows to a careful prowl, until you are out of sight. Pokemon are very dangerous when an excruciating pain causes them to lash out. Being in Hisui was an all too grim reminder of how much more powerful Pokemon are than humans, as amazing Pokemon are, you can't say you blame the people of the village for being afraid.

Your hands gently touch the rock as you peek up your heart jumps in your chest when you see the flowing white fur and that ghostly glow—those piercing yellow eyes. You almost choked on your own air hiding back behind the rock.

"Zoroark..." you mutter under your breath. You took a moment to catch your breath.

Throughout all of your excursions you have not seen a Pokemon more vicious more violence than Hisui's chilling Ghost type Fox Pokemon...

Vastly different than the friendlier more mischievous ones in your home time, you have heard countless Tales of these creatures' pure malice against humans... The Galaxy Corp there's no stranger to these Fox creatures having an entire Squad hospitalized over one counter...

Cyllene say that these Pokemon are native to the cold Alabaster Icelands. What are they doing out here?

You peer back out from behind the rock... there were two of them, an adult and one cub. The adult's foot was caught in the same traps you'd dug up all morning. Well, the other one, the pup, although you are glad, didn't suffer the same fate; its neck was caught in a strangling snare which made your heart sink.

Dangerous or not, no Pokemon deserved this...

The pup's ears twitch hearing movement the bushes and grass wrestling it's yellow eyes giving a faint glow when it turns to face you, bearing its fangs and growling.

showing signs of aggression the poor pup was shaking, you had to tread carefully you had to show it that you are no threat you were familiar with the Zorua in your time... but these were different only it's appearance giving you an inkling of what it's typing is but not enough to unravel the mystery of the hisuian fox.

You couldn't risk the baby waking up it's injured parent you are in no shape for any Pokemon fight leaving your most powerful monsters at home a notorious bad habit of yours.

Then right as you remember something your hand reaches into your bag the Zorua watching your every move it's tail between its legs as its fur stands on end.

"I just want to help you... that rope looks painful, yeah?" You whisper calmly, pulling an Oran Berry out of your satchel. The Zorua is growling Sees; however, it still looks suspicious; sniffing the air, it looks at the berry and then back to you. Cautiously it tries to make his way over to you only to stop and it's tracks when bringing in pain the snare only getting tighter.

"its ok ill come to you..." normally you'd hate to get into a wild Pokemon's personal space but you had no choice inching forward to the creature as it lets you. Putting the berry on the ground in front of it you reach for the tight wire. The Zorua immediately noticing your hand flinches away it's whole body shaking as its eyes closed ready for anything.

Only to feel the thing around its neck gone the air coming back into his nose and snout.

It's eyes widened with its sudden freedom it's big yellow eyes look up into yours it's tail swishing idly staring and almost disbelief seeming to peer into your heart. Before you could reach out and touch it the fox pup barks angrily quickly taking the berry and disappearing out of sight.

Welp... first time you see a Zorua up close without almost dying and you end up scaring It Off in the end. You sigh to yourself. Only for the air to be sucked right back up into your lungs your whole body freezing when you hear a growl coming from the large body of fur.

The parent was waking up!

And it seemed to notice your presence. Your hands Shake playing with fire as you quickly grab onto the metal trap with all your strength pushing it open. You only saw a silver glimpse before tackles you it's hand wrapping around your throat and slamming you to the ground.

That's when you saw it this was no Zoroark...

This was a human.

Your speechless all these questions running through your head muddling your words it's silver hair flowing in the wind like a Zoroark long and Untamed. The man buried its fangs as he snarled at you his striking eyes like a pool of silver filled with that same bitter malice that you know all too well yet this one was different. Those eyes had something else in them. He breaks away from your gaze looking around until he spots the Zoroark cub the berry in its mouth free from its trap. His eyebrows furrow with confusion tilting his head towards the now broken steel and wire on the ground.

Noticing your eye straying to the Zorua he makes a sound akin to a bark scarring you into looking back at him. The hand around your throat tightening it's hold

And tightening

Cutting off your breathing you grit your teeth trying to hold out

The Zoroark man's hands begin to shake.

'damnit Emmet... Just do it... you are a Zoroark..!'

He couldn't... he couldn't do it! Looking into your eyes, it was evident you were just as scared as he was, and after seeing, hearing, and witnessing what you did for him and his sibling...he couldn't.

He lets go over your throat, roaring in anger. Before practically running away, trying to hide the limp in his leg tries to get as far from you as he possibly could despite the injury he had.

You just lay there trying to piece together what just happened, all the while trying to catch your breath. The Zorua pup along since disappeared.

Do you go to the Galaxy Corp? Would they even believe you??

The man was obviously hurt you feared of what might happen if the injury isn't treated sooner.

You breathe deeply, taking a moment to gather your bearings and thoughts, Before deciding to go after him.

[avelera]

Hello love!! ♥️ Any thoughts on We Are Going Down together by Dove Cameron and Khalid as anti-dreamling song??? It‘s a beautiful ballad and I keep imagining Hob and Dream singing it together and believing that it’s what they could do/ be for each other!?? That they could give up everything to be together because they love each other so deeply, but we as the reader know that no matter how far they’re willing to go for the other one they ultimately could never give up who they are at heart (which.. v healthy tbh, although co-depended feral lovers has always been my fav trope). Imo Hob would die to protect dream in a fight but he would never give up his immortality to love him and Dream would equally do everything to ensure Hobs safety and comfort, but could never abandon his responsibilities to the dreamers and his function to love him. The song just screams I WOULD DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU, but the tragedy is that they truly couldn’t??? Agree? Disagree? I chose to scream at you specifically because you have an understanding of these characters and wrote different versions of them in totally different emotional states and general vastly different situations and yet they’re the same at the core?

No strong opinion on the song, honestly, I'm not familiar with it ^^;;

As for the idea though, of Dream and Hob having limits to their love even if they wish they didn't... I'd simply consider that mature, adult human behavior? Even as I'm sure Dream for all his romanticism would love to devote himself 100% to a lover, I don't think he'd ever include "sacrifice the Dreaming" in that bargain, just as Hob would never include "sacrifice my immortality" in that bargain, just as I don't think most people would/could/should include "sacrifice my life's work" or "literally die for you" in any relationship??

But I don't think that's a bad thing? Honestly, I wouldn't ship them if I thought they would? I actually find it quite important that Hob would never die for Dream, because the last thing Dream needs in his life is someone who gives even a whisper of an inch of justification to suicide ideation. I think what Dream needs to hear, far more than "I'd die for you" is "I'd never die for you, are you crazy? That's nuts. I will live for you and do my damndest to make sure you live as well but people aren't stories and dying for someone should never, ever have to happen??"

I think Dream seeing himself as a story (I know we get very meta with that since obviously he IS a story but let's accept the premise of being in-universe for a second, Hob doesn't live his life like he's a story) is how he martyred himself to his role as the Dream Lord and never managed any sort of healthy existence. IMO it's why he wishes so badly for a lover to give him something else to care about that much, because as a romantic he thinks only love can be worthy of being the singular focus of his life outside his task, but of course, no one single relationship can do that, nor should it. But I think someone like Hob, who wouldn't martyr himself for anything but can understand having a purpose in life and a life's work would maybe begin to help disentangle Dream from this like... deeply unhealthy martyrdom to his function and complete inability to like... admit he's a person with needs?

Just as a final note on the song, or at least that sort of message from a song, I could see them listening to it and Hob being like, "Well that's ridiculous nonsense, I'd never ask someone to die for me, that's crazy, isn't that right, Dream?" and Dream being all... distracted like "Gosh I wish that were me," about it until Hob slaps him upside the head like "No. Bad. If I died and I found out you died for me I would PHYSICALLY HAUNT YOU or better yet, reincarnate until we're in the same life again so I could shake the drama king out of you. We do not DO THAT in this house, Dream!" And maybe, someday, Dream would come around enough to realize that's Hob's love language but also just, y'know, sanity, and you can love someone, indeed love them more effectively, when you focus on living for someone instead of relying on self-destructive grand gestures like dying for them?

Christ, Dream needs therapy so badly...

[remma3760]

Chapter 2

The ripples of what happened start to spread. Also, therapy is a thing, here!

Lan Baojie was angry. He had been a healer with the Lan for over sixty years, head healer for ten of those, and he had never been so angry. To use a spiritual weapon against a child?- unheard of. What had the woman been thinking?

He drew Lan Qiren away from the sleeping boys, speaking quietly so as not to disturb them. "Well, our little Master undoubtedly saved that child's life."

Qiren was shocked. He had known it was bad, had been very afraid for A-Zhan in the moment but had tried to convince himself that he had overreacted. "Are you sure, Baojie?"

"I am. The child's condition was already precarious. He lived several years on the street, I believe?" At Lan Qiren's nod, he continued. "That is at least a partial explanation. He was severely malnourished, and there are what appear to be bite marks on his leg. However, in spite of the months spent at Lotus Pier he is still vastly underweight. I suspect he was either underfed, or denied food as punishment. Possibly both. In addition, he has clearly been repeatedly beaten, there are marks on his knees that indicate being forced to kneel on rice for hours, and in one case, he was whipped. Not Zidian. a regular whip, although even that was  excessive for such a young child in poor health. Even one strike with a spiritual weapon was severe, but had the second landed, I am convinced it would have ended his life."

"Will he recover?"

"Physically, yes. With care and attention he should be as active as any other child his age. I do want him to speak with Lan Huizhong, however, as I am concerned for the mental abuse he was subjected to."

Lan Qiren didn't think he could be anymore shocked, yet somehow, this seemed even more insidious than the beatings the little boy had endured. "Mental abuse?"

"He has been repeatedly told that he is bad. That he is nothing. That his only value is in serving his 'masters'. He has heard his parents unspeakably denigrated. He is terrified of being thrown out back to the streets, and convinced he should be grateful for any scrap of attention thrown his way. It was challenging simply to keep him in bed as he kept telling us he was 'fine' and could get back to work. This, in spite of barely being able to move. We were only able to get him settled when A-Zhan told him it was against the rules to go against the words of his elders."

Lan Qiren huffed. "The child of Cangse Sanren cares about the rules?"

"I suspect he has been repeatedly punished for breaking 'rules' he had no knowledge of. He seems quite eager to know what is expected of him. He is a child, Qiren. He needs to feel safe, and for that children need structure. If he knows the rules, he can follow them and try to belong. I look forward to the day he feels accepted enough at Cloud Recesses to risk breaking a few of them."

"You want him to misbehave?"

"I want him secure enough to know that the occasional rule break won't result in being tossed away like a rotting fish."

"Is that how he feels now?"

"To a certain extent. Surprisingly, what makes him most relaxed, is A-Zhan. He trusts him implicitly. Not surprising, I suppose, given the circumstances."

"Is that why you wanted A-Zhan to stay?"

"Partly. I also want him to speak to Lan Huizhong. He had a nasty shock. While he wasn't physically injured, he had his faith in adults shaken. This is the first time he has seen that kind of irrational behaviour from someone in authority. He will need help to understand it. Right now, he is focused on helping the child - Wei Ying -so he hasn't had to process his own feelings."

"As you see fit, Baojie. Is he really so good with this boy? He usually finds it hard to express himself. His only friend is his brother. You know he sang lullabies to the boy on the boat?"

"Ah, well, is that not what you do for him, when he is sick or hurt?"

"It is, but he's still only a child."

"And now he feels responsible for another child. He did for him what he has experienced you do to help him. Children are perceptive Qiren, and little Lan Zhan seems especially so. He's quiet. but he watches everything and misses nothing. He has learned through watching you."

"I'm glad. I admit, I often feel inadequate to the task of raising the boys. It was not a life I intended or feel equipped to deal with. But I could not abandon them."

"You have done well, Qiren. They are growing up to be a credit to you, and to the Sect. If you agree, I would like to keep the boys together. I think it would be good for both of them."

"Whatever you think best, Baojie. I'll leave them in your care. I need to speak with the Elders. Jiang Fengmian will, I hope, accept Wei Ying remaining with us, but we need to prepare for any and all contingencies."

With one last look at the two children, sleeping peacfully, he went on his way, determined to protect these two precious souls with everything he had. 

***

He was angry. He had tried his best to appease his wife, but nothing seemed to satisfy her. For Jiang Fengmian, she had finally crossed the line. He should have dealt with the situation long ago, but what could he do? He had hoped his wife would settle. Had hoped that the births of two children would be enough. But there was always something. Someway she felt slighted. And now she had hurt a child. Wei Changze's child. He knew she had been against him looking for the boy, but again, had hoped that she would be able to accept him once he was here. A vain hope. And now, he was seeing the results of his foolish desires. 

With a sigh, he flicked away the letters on his desks. Already, three families who were no longer willing to send their sons to train as disciples at Lotus Pier. And there would be more. Of that there was no doubt. They didn't trust his wife not to hurt their children, and they didn't trust him to protect them. Which, he had to admit, given his inability to protect A-Ying, was fair. 

He had hoped to contain the situation. he had believed that the only ones to witness the incident were his family and the Lans. And Lans don't gossip. How naive. Of course someone had seen. A servant, a disciple. Who knew. But word had gotten out, and there was no way for him to control the narrative anymore. 

What could he do? No matter what he said, his wife would continue as she was. She couldn't even admit that she was wrong. Gods, she had been on brink of striking one of the Lan heirs. A child. Wars were started for less, yet she still claimed to have done no wrong. Still blamed Wei Ying for everything. And now, he had lost him. Lost Wei Chanze's child. He had looked for him for so long, and now he had been taken from him. He wanted him back, but was that even possible? It would be a fight, and one he was unlikely to win. Still, perhaps he could still see him. And then there were his children. they cared for A-Ying too. They would want him back. And A-Ying cared for them. He would surely hate it at Cloud recesses. All those rules. He was a free spirit. He belonged here, in his Father's sect. Perhaps he just needed to give it some time, then he could appeal to the child. Explain to him that he belonged to the Jiang, to Jiang Fengmian. Surely he would want to come home to his new brother and sister? To his loving Jiang Shushu? They were his family. As for his wife, he would find a way to pacify her. He would. he had to. He wanted his boy back.

***

The Lans don't gossip. Except, of course, for when they do. And this was too good not to talk about. Their very own little master, risking his own life to save that of another child from a vicious attack by the Madam of Lotus Pier. So brave and righteous, yet still so young. What's more, this story had the added benefit of being true, so it wasn't even gossip, really. It was simply reporting the truth. And so, as stories do, this story spread. 

[tewwor-moving]

🎰with my Axis, Basille, Li Hua, and Sebastian. + any other OC fantasy muse that you find appealing ^^.

SEND 🎰 FOR ME TO PUT OUR MUSES INTO A RANDOM LIST GENERATOR THEN POST THE FIRST FIVE AS POTENTIAL SHIPS! ( accepting )

axis & walter — .. first of all, i'd like to say i'm so sorry. second of all, i'd like to say good luck. i'll forever love to throw this crotchety idiot anywhere he doesn't want to be ( which is literally anywhere outside his motel ). he will throw a fit. he will threaten all sorts of things that he'll most likely follow up on. he will not tolerate any sass thrown back to him. but as i said, it's my bread and butter when it comes to walter. but! walt's been around for long ass time. never wants trouble, but trouble always seems to find him. somehow that means he not only ended up giving a ton of favors, but there's a few he owes as well. axis could be on either side of that, but either way — walt'll be pissed about it.

basille & beatrice — oh c'mon now. two aquatic adjacent beings randomized? i'd say that beatrice could've met him in the water ( wherever that is ), but she's rather flimsy with a tail. kind of the opposite of when basille's on land, she spends the majority of her time with two stick legs. she'd definitely be interested in any stories / just the way of life below the surface, though. never got any of that from her mother growing up. plus, it might even influence a song or two!

li hua & danny — all i got is that they have vastly different backgrounds. but if she wants some wilderness and/or freedom, danny will always instigate / support that. could even set their encounter back when he was a seafaring pirate and wasn't tied down to a pub

sebastian & oryn — .... well at least oryn doesn't hunt dragons? i mean, sometimes he'll take on the occasional miscellaneous supernatural creature, but he loathes stepping outside of his expertise ( aka demons ). that being said, he's not the nicest hunter out there. even if he won't fuck with killing dragons. although, he's known to offer some place to crash at when safety's needed ( it will come with 1000 angry words though ). this also means there's a very high chance sebastian will come by his two pseduo adopted folks, adela & her weird knife, suhyeon.

fergus & jie — honestly, jie's probably mistaken for a werewolf a lot. he's got all the characteristics of one and technically turns into a big ol' wolf adjacent... thing. except he's not really tied to the full moon via forced shifting. although, he does tend to get more agitated during that time and can still show a lot of similar traits. what i'm saying is the plot of being hunted by mistake is out there for grabs. other than that, could do the 'we're both hunting the same thing' or 'oh no, we have to work together on the same job', etc.

[mneiai]

i apologise, i didn't mean to come off as rude. i'm on anon because my following is far smaller than yours and i am admittedly scared of getting harassed (not that i think you'd condone/encourage it, but only that it tends to happen with smaller blogs as a side effect of tumblr being tumblr).

i ask from a place of genuine ignorance; i don't understand how propaganda or direct lobbying would be more effective than a legal fund, nor why you'd choose to use a platform like ao3 if you disagree with their management of funding. it's not like posting to ao3 is mandatory for engaging with fandom, although i do acknowledge that it's likely where as a fic writer you'd have the largest reach.

feel free to ignore me though, i'm not trying to start anything. regardless, i wish you the best, and have a nice day.

lol you have zero clue how many followers I have and I barely have any interactions so you're not even inferring from that, come up with a better excuse next time.

The legal fund is, as I in the post you saw and many, many others have said, useless in its current state. It could not fund any real legal battle against a challenge to fanfiction. Those are expensive. Going directly for authors, directors, etc. to have better opinions of fanworks would be significantly cheaper and make them less likely to support an anti-fanwork suit or more likely to support OTW/fanworks if one happened.

OTW are a non-profit. They should not have excess money, they should always be finding a way to spend it if they get extra. This is the way non-profits work, this is not an opinion, this is the norm that they are going against for no good reason. There are multiple projects that they've said for years they're considering, as well as features people have been asking for since the very beginning, that they could be funding with their excess funds.

AO3 is the only real platform for fanfic for most of my fandoms. I have spoken about this before. Multiple times. I created fanfic tumblrs on here specifically because I wanted to move off of AO3 and have complained many times about how useless they have been.

Many of us use AO3 not because we like it, but because we want to reach more readers who would otherwise not see my fanfic. Look at my fucking fanfic blogs on here if you don't believe me, the amount of likes/reblogs compared to the amount of kudos/bookmarks for the same fic is vastly different. The amount of subscribers on most of my ongoing fic is far more than the number of followers I have on any of them or even on this blog (despite your attempts to act like I'm some big account).

AO3 created a monopoly, a large portion of older fanfic sites that may have continued on shut down because AO3 made a big deal about handling importing fanfic onto their site (there are fics on there that the writer didn't ever consent to have on there because the archive was absorbed into AO3). There have also been no real competitors because people refuse to accept that AO3 is a highly flawed site for the actual fanfic community and support the early stage projects that have popped up over the years the way people once supported AO3.

Point me to a usable competitor for my fandom and topics I write about and I'll show you a massive amount of issues they have, too.

Anyway, just block me if you're too far up AO3's ass to realize it has issues. I have no interest in people who think the status quo for the fanfic community is a good thing.