#Narrative strike again baby

[pavelzacha]

Elias was always going to assist on his first goal wasn’t he

[puppyeared]

uhh. uhhhhh

[lgbtlunaverse]

Ooooh this reblog seems to have completely passed me by for months which is a shame because I have thoughts

You're right, his value sustem is so fucked up lol (and your tags!! They fucked up a perfectly good kid!!) But this implies one of those values is having a moral problem with demonic cultivation despite Nie saber cultivation being similar.

And this is very crunchy because... we don't know if he does? Idk, maybe there was something in one of the adaptations I missed but in the novel? Zilch. Nada.

The main point for this seems to be Nie Huaisang insisting that saber cultivation and demonic cultivation are totally different he swears wei-xiong!!

But that is:

a) A thing Nie Huaisang says, not a thing Nie Mingjue says. Nie Mingiue has been dead for a decade at this point, and saying that Huaisang and Mingjue have different moral philosophies is quite the understatement.

b) A thing Nie Huaisang says, which is not necessarily a thing Nie Huaisang believes. Huaisang is a lying little liar who lies and if he doesn't have any objections to demonic cultivation at all, he certainly has a vested interest in not revealing that, just in case wei-xiong ever gets suspicious about how conveniently he was pushed in the direction of solving the murder of huaisang's older brother rightnafter coming back from the dead. (Though nhs certainly doesn't have a problem doing things he does consider immoral to get revenge for his da-ge either, he's shown that very clearly)

Everytime we see Nie Mingjue speak out or act against Wei Wuxian, there is always a different reason for doing so (which may be fucked up in their own ways, but have nothing to do with demonic cultivation being innately evil or not)

He speaks out against Wen Qing during the conference because he's mad she didnt sacrifice her life trying to stop Wen Ruohan, because remember: self sacrifice is not only Good but Mandatory. He joins in on the siege on the burial mounds because Wei Wuxian just killed Jin Zixuan and then hundreds of others (that 3000 number is definitely exaggerated, but he did kill a fuckton of people in nightless city) and nmj believes in hacking down dangerous people with his saber. None of this recquires that he thinks demonic cultivation is innately bad, just that he thinks the way Wei Wuxian is using it is wrong.

Which is very interesting!! Because now you have situation where Wei Wuxian is hated and believed to be innately evil for a specific prejudiced reason, and Nie Mingjue doesn't share that belief, but when that prejudice forces Wei Wuxian into dire circumstances and he does something fucked up (which could all have been avoided if people hadn't hated him from the start) Nie Mingjue turns against him anyway.

Does that, perhaps, remind you of someone else's relationship with Nie Mingjue?

Weirdest possible NMJ take is that he's a hypocrite. "Oh he only believes in justice when it's convenient for him" I cannot stress enough how the problem he has is the EXACT opposite of this. Nie Mingjue holds onto his values even if it makes things objectively worse both for himself and others. He will stick with his idea of justice even if it's patently not suited for the situation. "Well he expects other people to take risks that would kill them only because he can take them with no personal harm" Nie Mingjue has, out loud, with full intent to follow through, declared that he's willing to commit literal suicide if it's what his moral code recquires. Nie Mingjue thinks dying for the cause is both reasonable and morally good and is- with the saber curse- doing it himself the entire time. I fucking WISH he would prioritise his own wellbeing at literally any point in the story it would probably make him more chill and easier to talk to.

[hotvintagepoll]

Trying to get more into old movies because of this blog (I only know about half of these people and feel like a poser) do you have good recommendations on where to start or is it just a situation where you watch stuff and find what you like as you go?

you are not a poser <3 i myself am just here for the hotties.

here is my quick and dirty list of fun films to start with if you're new to old movies. and of course if you like one of these, do try to find more stuff as you go! there's no bad way to try out old movies.

(this list is not official and is SUPER quick. i'm tagging for content warnings where I can, but if I forgot something let me know.)

"I want to watch something SILLY!"

The Court Jester (Danny Kaye, Angela Lansbury, Glynis Johns, Basil Rathbone)—everyone in this movie is hot. everyone is in fancy medieval dress, which makes them hotter. everyone here is very silly. You can stream this on Hoopla, last time i checked, so you might be able to stream it through your library!

Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang (Dick Van Dyke, Sally Ann Howes, Lionel Jeffries, Gert Frobe)—some people hate this movie and to them I say What Is Wrong With You. dick van dyke is a hot absent minded inventor who lives in a windmill with his two adorable children, his gorgeous sheepdog, and a grandfather who is categorically useless. it feels like the two films mary poppins (1964) and willy wonka (1971) had a baby and that baby was born on roller skates singing an old broadway showtune. this one has been showing up in some odd places lately—I think you can catch it on Tubi or Hoopla? It's definitely around.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (Jane Powell, Julie Newmar, Howard Keel, Russ Tamblyn)—my problematic fave. everytime i watch this i change my mind whether it's a sexist pile of garbage or a feminist paean, and fellas, today we're on the feminist paean bandwagon!! jane powell's millie is truly the star of the movie, she is the hero she drives the plot the narrative is on her side, and besides all that there are seven very hot men dancing next to her and six beautiful ladies making me bisexual. (on Tubi last I checked.)

The Duke Is Tops (Lena Horne, Laurence Criner)—I get a huge kick out of watching Laurence Criner and Ralph Cooper swindle everybody while also trying to put on a show; there's just something silly and sincere here, plus you get a ~musical extravaganza~ at the end when all is right as rain again. Free on YouTube I think?

"I want to watch something DRAMATIC that may make me FEEL SOMETHING."

Witness for the Prosecution (Marlene Dietrich, Tyrone Power, Elsa Lanchester)—I love a campy twisty turny mystery, don't you? :) I'm not going to talk about this one much because it's better to go in blind, but if you like Agatha Christie stories you'll probably like this.

To Be Or Not To Be (Carole Lombard, Jack Benny)—always relevant, always makes me laugh, also makes me cry. this takes place in poland during wwii so big tw for nazi imagery and mentions. (don't worry. this movie fucking hates nazis.)

Seven Samurai (Toshiro Mifune)—this one is Great Cinema™™™™™™™™™™™ for a goddamned reason

"I want to watch some stuff with the scrungles in it!"

Mr. Washington Goes to Town (Mantan Moreland)—I've been checking out more of Mantan Moreland's stuff because every time I see him in something I think he's delightful, and I really enjoyed this silly-spooky comedy. Does this story have a brain cell? No. Are the special effects and goofy slapstick fun? Yes. This is a fun example of an all-Black cast in a film that was made for Black audiences, and is a striking counterpoint to the stereotypical representation Black actors were given in white-targeted films, showing the enormous amount of talent and artistry the racist studios missed out on by excluding these actors. This is not A Great Film™ but it's still A Fun Time,™ with a goofy Laurel and Hardy type vibe. (It's free on Youtube.)

The Red Shoes (Robert Helpmann, Leonide Massine, Marius Goring)—hey kid, you wanna watch something fucked up? This movie is so fucked up. It's about ballet, it's about art, it's about technicolor, it's about dance and toxic relationships and making theatre and nightmares and ambition and death. A lot of these recs tend on the silly side (because I tend on the silly side) but this one is actually Serious Film and will definitely help you chat up Martin Scorsese should you ever meet him. Big content warning if you can't handle dark themes right now—this movie's pretty dark, not in the gore way but in the Haunting Creepy Image way. (it's also free on Tubi and Kanopy most of the time.)

The Invisible Man (Claude Rains)—my favorite of the vintage horror flicks and a great introduction to Most Dunked On Hot Vintage Man of All Time, Claude Rains. (it helps that you barely ever see him!) Very very silly but the special effects are just plain fun. (I think this is on Internet Archive in full?)

"Can I just get more hot people please?"

Flower Drum Song (James Shigeta, Nancy Kwan, Miyoshi Umeki, Jack Soo)—there are so many unbelievably hot people in this movie which is somehow very good (thanks to its cast) and also incredibly, horrifically bad (thanks to its white team of writers, directors, and producers). on the one hand, it's a mostly Asian cast in a big budget, beautifully designed MGM style musical! there's dream sequences, lots of fun dancing, crooning Rogers & Hammerstein cabaret moments, and just charm galore. it is also freighted with so. many orientalist assumptions and stereotypes, absolutely ridiculous shit that the writers ABSOLUTELY should have known better about in the 60s and nonetheless carried into this. this is a hard one to recommend because I loved this cast, and I loved seeing them in a context beyond the usual stereotypical bit parts so many of them frequently were limited to—yet the movie itself perpetuates so many stereotypes on its own it can be a hard one to watch, and I totally understand if it does not work for most people. tl;dr watch for Shigeta, Kwan, Umeki, and the others, but content warnings galore for one (really bad) case of yellowface casting, orientalist tropes, extremely stereotypical character types, etc. (On Tubi/Kanopy last I checked.)

Charade (Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, James Coburn)—this movie feels like a Hitchcock movie except I had a ton of fun watching it, which I can't always say for a Hitch film. (I told you my taste was bad.) This one is free on YouTube and thank god because Audrey wears a lot of Givenchy, Cary Grant wears spectacles and keeps almost dying, it's very exciting and thrilling and funny and sexy. I don't think there are any content warnings but it's been a minute since I watched it. (I should go watch it right now.)

The Big Sleep (Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall)—they're so hot askjdljhjghladkghjksahkhgslkahgshskjhgsalhgsahgjh. i like this one a lot :)

[this is NOT A FULL LIST of all the hot vintage movies to start with but it might give you some starting places! i banged this out as quick as I could at 2 am, so apologies that it's sloppy and not perfect.]

[rosabell14]

An analysis of Bianca di Angelo's role in the narrative and why bad writing can screw over a character.

For someone with such a limited time in the narrative, Bianca is one of the most divisive characters in the fandom. I've been in the fandom long enough to see how much nuance the fandom lacks when discussing certain characters and Bianca is no difference. But it's more than just viewing the characters' actions in a vacuum. It's ignoring the larger narrative problems. At the end of the day Bianca suffers from one simple problem: she's barely a character outside of her role in Nico's narrative. Like it or not, her entire character exists to die and give Nico issues down the road but Riordan's writing decisions didn't do her any favours either.

I feel like this is a huge issue when it comes to the pjo fandom they often try to come up with Watsonian solutions to problems that are Doylist in nature and Bianca is one example of that.

Case in point: Riordan's shit math when it comes to the Di Angelo siblings and how it messes up with bianca's character.

So when we meet them they're 10 and 12. We learn that their memories of their past is kinda hazy and that they don't remember their parents but that they were in a boarding school, then they moved to the lotus hotel, then they were taken out of the hotel and put into Westover's. And at the end we learn that they're Hades's children born before the oath of the big 3.

Said oath happened after WW2 btw. So 1945 probably since Bianca remembers FDR's presidency.

Now in TLO we get an update on this backstory. Hades is speaking to Maria about moving his children to the underworld or the lotus hotel since Maria doesn't like the former option because the war has put Hades in a bad situation with his brothers and also the prophecy is out, the oath has been taken and they're running out of time to hide the kids. So logic says that it's 1945. And then Zeus immediately kills Maria and Hades tells Alecto to erase the children's memories and put them in the lotus hotel, and honestly? I like this version much better? Because why in the world would Hades Put his children in a boarding school for a few years and THEN hide them in the hotel after they were nearly assassinated? Why not immediately put them in the hotel?

And so we get to our main dilemma. Bianca having to raise Nico. This was already strange to me because it's not as if this is a Jason and Thalia situation where Jason was a toddler and Thalia had to take care of him. Nico is not a baby they have a two year age difference. But of course these kinds of things might matter more if you're young. Even then, in what situation would Bianca be Nico's main caretaker? They were put into a magic hotel that mind you, makes time go faster so for them it was a month or two at best and they would have been given whatever they needed by the staff? Same type of issue with Westover's and the boarding school if you want consider that canon. They would have been taken care of by the facility. They probably wouldn't even have shared classes or dorms? Or am I misunderstanding American boarding schools?

And then, Riordan's bad math strikes again and this time with the characters' ages. Because Nico's age in HoO becomes 14 which would have made him 11/almost 12 in TTC but that's not the big problem, no no no. The problem comes from his official birthday which is 1932.

1932... Which would have made him 13 and Bianca 15 by the time Maria dies. Which is hilarious because with the way the kids are written during her death scene as absolute non players with nary a reaction, you would think they were written to be toddlers who didn't understand anything that was going on.

That royally screws over Bianca as a character (and me as someone who's trying to write a story centered around her). Because her main thing. The one time she's allowed to have complexity is the moment where she talks about how she wants to be more than Nico's caretaker, and she's barely Nico's caretaker at all. The best in universe explanation I can come up for this is that this is how Bianca perceives things because that's all that she literally remembers. Those months in the hotel and Westovers.

Another time the plot kinda messes her up is at the beginning of TTC. One complaint that I often see in regards to her Is how quickly she makes her decision. She does not even hesitate. She does not even wait to see the camp. You know the place that would have taken care of her and Nico which would have meant she wasn't going to be his supposed primary caretaker anymore? She doesn't even wait to see if it was an actual good place for her brother? Spoiler alert: it's not camp half-blood at the time was not a good place for either of them really. Nico did not have a cabin at camp and people were not accepting of him. Hell, people not being accepting of hades and his children was something established since the first book.

But once again, this is a Doylist problem at its core. We need to turn Bianca into a hunter but we also need Artemis to leave so that she can be kidnapped for the main conflict, so she leaves before the hunters even reach camp. Half-blood. So Bianca as a character doesn't even get to make a proper choice between the camp and the hunters. To people who only look at characters on an in universe level, it comes off as very rash and not well thought out.

To be fair, on an in universe level, she's a kid so it's okay if she's stupid, but Riordan wasn't trying to make her come off as that way? He treats Bianca's decision as a legit serious choice and not the rash decision of a desperate child.

And once again, Bianca is here for Nico's sake more than anything. She needs to die. So she takes the statue for Nico. Which is so ironic and tragic if you decide to play it that way. That Bianca wanted to be more than Nico's sister, but her literal death revolves around being his sister. Normally I'd enjoy this level of angsty irony but unfortunately that's how the very narrative treats her as well. Even her post mortem decisions are there to maximize Nico's angst more than that they're there to say anything about Bianca herself. We need Bianca to only appear at the end of Botl so that Nico and Percy can have a conflict but it once again comes at the cost of Bianca herself coming off as callous. What's the in universe reason for this behavior? It's so stupid because in universe, Nico doesn't even take that much convincing? One conversation. One conversation and Nico was convinced to stop his efforts in reviving her. Does she just not know her brother enough? Maybe since they technically know each other for a year max. Does she genuinely think she's that easy to give up on? Is she that conflict avoidant? I actually like this interpretation and plan to use it. There's much to be done with a character who's rash and bold but an absolute emotional coward who'd try to avoid an emotionally charged conversation until they absolutely can't.

Hell even after Botl, it's the same song and dance. Hades makes an absolute vile remark at Nico's expense. TSATS makes it into a joke moment and has you believe that Hades simple said that Bianca would have been a better demigod. No ladies and gentlemen. Hades literally tells Nico that he wished Bianca had survived instead.(The fact that I still think that hades is the best godly parent just shows you how low the bar is more than anything.)

I swear to God I spent so much time racking my brain trying to understand what this could mean for Bianca's character.

This is how I basically look like trying to milk every scene where Bianca is there as a character or is mentioned for every drop of characterization.

At the end of the day, I can't blame most of the fandom for being ambivalent towards her at best. The story by design is about Nico. It's designed for you to sympathize with him and yeah if I'm to look at it from Nico's perspective. He DID get abandoned, regardless of Bianca's intentions. From his Perspective , which is the one most people would take, his sister took the very first chance she could to ditch him for people she barely knew hoping people either of them barely knew would take care of him even though they haven't even seen the place yet, and then ignored him for months while he was desperate for a single conversation with her. Honestly had Nico outright resented his sister for leaving, I think the reaction towards her would have even been worse.

(Another sidenote, my very hot tea Is that I like to believe that had Bianca lived her and Nico's relationship would have become worse as time went on and as the camp's anti hades sentiments really started taking their toll on Nico. But I'm just an angst lover)

Worse is that this story is told from Percy's perspective and these two only have like 3 actual conversations together. One of them is her dying, one is about her making her first main decision and that's at the expense of Nico who's probably the fandom favorite behind Percy and Annabeth and the other is her trying to explain her aforementioned decision to Percy and even then, she talks about it in such broad strokes. "I want to be more than X" tells us about who you one day wish to be not about who you are at the current moment. And even when we have Nico as a POV character, Bianca is only there for "dead family member" trope. There's barely any moment where Nico remembers anything important about her to give her any depth. The cards are just stacked against her. Even the people who are at the "Bianca did nothing wrong camp" are barely interested in her. I swear to god whenever an AU comes up where she's alive, the focus is STILL on Nico. Oh Nico would have been such a happy person had she lived! And Bianca? Uhhhhh she would have fucked off with the hunters I guess?

Can we talk about the hunters while we're here?

If we WERE to talk about in universe scapegoats, I'd honestly choose the hunters. Honestly I could make a separate post about how much I hate how Riordan handled them. But oh dear God the way they're presented just comes off as creepy. The way they initially (up until TOA) only go for young girls because apparently older girls aren't useful once they hit puberty and start developing feelings for people and lose themselves(TTC and Percy Jackson's Greek gods oh dear lord are they terrible in Percy Jackson's Greek gods). How they're basically the heroine dumping ground for when Riordan doesn't know what to do with a female character. How ultimately in universe, Zoe more than anyone is to blame to for Bianca's death by taking an untrained girl to a mission where she KNOWS two people would die at the very least. And she doesn't even watch her properly during the mission. Honestly I could barely feel anything about Zoe's death upon rereads as an adult for this very reason. Or how stupid it is to basically put a child in front of a candy store and expect them to make a responsible decision. Who in their right mind would have young girls as young as nine take a celibacy vow? Oh but you'll be safe with us (never mind that we're not just normal hunters here like the actual myths but actual monster hunters) and you'll totally be able to see your brother when you want (actually we barely visit camp half-blood) oh but you'll be a FAMILY with us! Except you know if you catch feelings or get assaulted(holy hell how Riordan depicts the myth of Callisto makes me want to tear my hair out of my scalp)

[disneyprincemuke]

in another life * fem!driver au

"if not in this universe, do you think we're at least together in another?" "there has to be at least one where we're happy."

i HAVE SUCCUMBEDDD TO THE VOICEESSSSSS THE VOICESSSSSSS AHHHHHH

and my demons bc here we are :/

this is more smaus and shorter blurbs just because i don't wanna get too attached to logan and my literal fictional character being together huhuhuhu

could've been -> in which logan decided to make a move on her after her confession instead of ignoring his feelings and eventually getting over it

everything at 18, but nothing at 22 -> in which the drastic difference in their performance in their career seems to finally be catching up to them

they ask, “do you have a man?” -> in which everyone is curious why the grid princess is still single despite instagram posts from them seem to be giving out another narrative

is it just platonic? -> in which she and logan can’t help but flirt with each other in public, but it’s always disregarded as them being mega best friends

everybody talks too much -> in which he accidentally slips up during an interview and calls her his ‘girlfriend’ sending everyone into a frenzy

in the late night, in a disguise -> in which logan has to dress entirely differently to run some late-night errands with her in the uk

the grid princess x everyone -> in which everyone seems to ship her with everyone but her actual secret boyfriend

kiss all your tears away -> in which she and logan don't walk into the paddocks together for the first time all season and sends everyone speculating about the status of their relationship friendship

is it killing you like it's killing me? -> in which she and logan try to navigate the worst part about dating your literal coworker

tis the season for mistletoasters -> in which they invite a select few of their friends over for the holidays and a particular holiday decoration catches them off guard

there doesn't seem to be anyone around -> in which they're simply not discreet enough about sneaking around in the paddocks

the summer seemed to last forever -> in which they didn't want summer break to end because that meant having to sneak around again

baby, it's cold outside -> in which she always get seasonal depression at the same time of the year and he tries to make her feel better about it

i don't want you like a best friend -> in which their trip to the bahamas two years ago suddenly becomes a push and pull game that neither of them knew the rules to

the kind of book you can't put down -> in which the thought of settling down and being with her scares him more than anything in the world, but he can’t seem to steer away from the thought of ‘them’

you make everyday feel like it's christmas -> in which logan surprises her in the morning with a throughtful second present

in sickness and in health -> in which she's down with the flu and while she's locked herself away to contain the virus, her boyfriend simply refuses to stay away for too long

bad sushi and bad stomachs -> in which she completely overanalyses the situation when she wakes up puking from bad sushi, forcing her to have a conversation about potentially having kids

it's when we're in a crowded room -> in which they’ve got their own little ways to communicate their feelings for one another while they’re under watch of the crowd that’s not supposed to know of their relationship

god bless america -> in which it's everyone's favourite american's birthday and they can't help but take the piss out of him

i'm a monster on the hill -> in which insecurities suddenly strike up when she sees her boyfriend parading with williams’ star guest for the race weekend

[kalak]

Luke skywalker has so much rage inside him and I want people to recognize that. No he's not a shy baby boy, you know how much grit it takes to keep on doing and remain optimistic at the face of insurmountable evil? That boy is full of emotions. And yet he is kind. That's the key to his character - that he is full of rage but he doesn't let that stop him from hoping.

He definitely has a hair trigger temper - hell, his main character flaw in empire strikes back was his impulsiveness and recklessness - and he's so much like vader, he wants and loves so strongly and he despairs as strongly too. And what does he do with that temper? He fails, he loses, and he blows up and wrecks shit, but also that temper is the flip side of loving, and he embraces that too, he loves with all his heart. Point is, he's a very action and emotion oriented person, and that's what pushes him so close to the dark side; he's fatalistic, he's sometimes ridden with guilt, he's emotional.

But then he learns patience, he learns gentleness - learns to be a jedi. It's all learned; do or do not, yoda says, and he learns to do, to keep hoping. He isn't born as a sunshine boy, it's not his nature that makes him that way - he's naturally emotional, kinda whiny, full of rage; all the hallmarks of a darksider, but he learns to grow beyond that. That's how he can extend such an understanding hand towards sith and dark siders, his father - he knows the dark side. He understands it, he flirts with it, and yet he chooses to do better.

The meaning of luke skywalker in the star wars narrative is hope - hope isn't a magical deus ex machina that solves all your problems. It's not there all the time from the very start. It's something you cultivate, just like luke did throughout the trilogy.

Hope is continued existence. It's optimism that perseveres. You know that line of bravery being doing it in spite of the fear? Well, hope isn't the absence of giving up. Sometimes it's just screaming crying trying to kill your own father, but it's also making the right choice and trusting vader to make the right choice, too. If there's one good thing about the sequel trilogy, it's that - luke may have run away, he might have done some... uncharacteristic things, but that doesn't mean he's lost hope. He returned to fight again after all, didn't he?

Even if you fuck up, you return and fight - with a relentless optimism that being good will be enough, that the world is a better place for this choice. And Luke does that, again and again - still carrying all those emotions within him. He's a fire that burns strong and bright; he's sunshine and tempered death.

[vaperarmand]

iwtv fanfic friday <3

happy weekend reading!

all human decisions by LuckyDiceKirby (@luckydicekirby) m, 19k

Daniel’s bastard maker had the advantage over him: he could travel by daylight. By the time Daniel woke at dusk, sprawled on the couch and actually literally tucked in, there was no sign of him. Well, fuck Armand. Daniel might be a newly minted best-selling conspiracy theorist whose sanity was being publicly debated on every existing social media platform, but he was still a journalist. He could track down one monstrous extremely divorced serial killer, easy.

(armand is sooooooo annoying in this. he's everything to me.)

colour me your colour, baby by hederabug m, 2.6k

“Daniel.” Daniel hears the soft, but insistent voice first as a distant call, as if she’s submerged in water. She breathes air when Armand’s hand grabs at her shoulder. “Wake up, lover.” Armand is on all fours, hands and knees on the bed above where Daniel’s still lying down, so they’re face to face. Armand’s brown eyes are glinting with some manic light, her face cast in shadow, striking chiaroscuro, lit only by the dull amber glow of the bedside table.

(rest assured i will be doing a dm yuri theme week soon and rest assured this will be on it. but it was too good not to include here. i need like 17 more fics in this series)

With His Heart Still Intact (They Didn't Do It Right) by CaravanOfCrows (@asthedeathoflight) t, 6k

A series of collisions; in which free will exists but fate isn't going down without a fight. (surely Armand and Daniel only have extremely normal feelings about freedom and agency and destiny)

(WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE DM SOULMATE AU AGAIN. CAN WE TALK ABOUT IT PLEASE)

marketplace heart-eater by eggalbumin m, 6k

Daniel picks up a blade from the stack of discarded tools in the kidney tray. It has blood on it. “I’m a little scared to ask,” he says, with the aura of someone who isn’t very scared of asking at all, “but who’s blood is this?” Mine. Yours. My master’s, twice-diluted. Why does it matter anymore? It’s poison either way. “The doctor was just showing me how to do incisions. It’s fascinating work.”

(really fucking awesome armand character study. the first time i ever found marius compelling due to the fact that he's written from the lens of armand's tangled knot of being. like i think he should be killed with hammers as much as the next guy but he makes for such a fascinating narrative concept)

did you believe in the glass city by tei @bloodripelives nr, 5.9k

"Yes," Armand breathes. "Yes. Is anything they did to me worse than what I have done to you?" Daniel wants to say yes, but shit, he's not even sure what Armand had done to him. And whatever it was, he is sure that he would have let him do worse.

(daniel tracks down marius for the sake of armand's tangled knot of being. it goes as well as you would expect. so fucking beautiful and soooo fucking compelling. made me cry at least twice. read it now)

[circe69]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐦 - Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

narrative: you get kidnapped by graves, and ghost rescues you (in a very aggressive/sweet manner) warnings: violent, blood, injuries, kidnapping, manhandling tags: cleaning wounds, soft ghost, solving mysteries, being babied honestly, touching, sweet things amidst gore. a/n: as always, lmk if this is something you'd like a part two for! love you guys! part 2

A set of strong hands grabbed your two biceps and threw you to the ground, your body slamming against the wet pavement. You groaned in agony, blood soaking your ripped shirt around your sleeves, whilst your ears rang, and vision blurred. Someone leaned down, you weren't sure who, and pulled you up by your hair.

You screamed, "G- ugh, Get off of me!" Graves let a chuckle escape, making your stomach churn. "You tell whoever is unfortunate enough to pick up your rotting body that it was me who was merciful, letting you leave alive when you deserve nothing but a coffin too small for your corpse.”

He dropped your hair, making your head strike the ground.

"Let's go, boys. Oh, she'll be fine, grow a pair!" You heard his eager voice fade out and heavy boots walk away, followed by a metal door closing shut, the rust falling on the doormat.

All the sudden, you heard a flashlight click. It was quiet enough to almost be unheard, but your senses had been heightened, you were aware of everything.

"Who's there?" You whispered, not trying to. You tried to be as loud as you possibly could, but it wasn't until this moment you realized how scared you were of being caught.

"Who's there?" You whispered, not trying to. You tried to be as loud as you possibly could, but it wasn't until this moment you realized how scared you were of being caught.

No one answered, but you could feel someone's presence. You stumbled to your feet, bracing yourself on the side of an empty tank before standing up straight. "I know someone's there!" Nothing.

Sighing, you took a few more steps towards where you heard the click, almost hoping that someone was there listening to you. Your hand slid against the wet metal of the tank, and the other trying to locate where you were hurt the most and holding pressure to where you guessed.

A gun cocked. Your head turned in every direction, trying to see everything at once. I'm about to die, you thought. This was the end. There was nothing else for you to do but accept that you would never see any of your family again, none of your friends.

You walked a little more, almost giving yourself up to whoever it was, and you almost turned back around to hide in the unused tank before wet arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into a wall of a body.

Your screams filled the air, harsh groans were coming from the person behind you in response to your thrashing. "Put. Me. Down!" Kicking your legs in any way you could, but it didn't do anything. "Calm down, woman, I'm not gonna hurt you." The body turned around and started jogging towards a running vehicle. There was a man in the front, one you didn't recognize, but before you could scream anything else, you were thrown into the back of the car, and a huge man followed you. Your body hit a leather seat, and he was positioned in front of you, buckling your seatbelt as if you were a helpless child.

"Got her, Johnny. Move out," the man trapping you in a seat said. He said the terrifying sentence with gauze between his teeth, ripping a few long pieces off of a large roll and setting it back in the console. The driver wasted no time in throwing the gear in reverse at his command, and the dog tags on the rearview mirror jangled against themselves as he slammed on the gas.

You couldn't breathe, your head was spinning, and you weren't sure if it was from the loss of blood or sudden fear that you were going to die.

The man sitting in front of you was wearing a few things you deemed as strange: a cream skull-face mask on top of a black linen face covering. His vests and gear were anything but simple, you feared if he'd move the wrong way, he'd set off a bomb somewhere.

His hand reached up to turn on the dinky car light as the driver took a harsh turn. "Could you drive a little slower, mate?" His voice was aggressive, too deep for his own good. It was a weapon in and of itself. Orders that he made were automatically wishes that had to come true.

"Ghost," he said while opening up a few bandages and uncapping a tube of disinfectant, not even looking up at you. "Crazy man in the front is Soap."

You felt tears brew in your eyes as he talked to you in such a casual manner. There was no underlying threat in his words, even as scary as he was. A few heavy droplets slipped and audibly landed on your seatbelt, causing Ghost to look up at you.

Once he saw you crying, he sighed, not out of exhaustion or annoyance, but of something else. You weren’t sure what he was feeling, or why he did things he did. You weren’t sure anyone ever knew. He reached his gloved hand up and turned off the light, continuing to work in the dark. He'd be cursed for the rest of his life if he had to watch you cry.

A woman he'd never met, never even known existed, until that very afternoon.

"Sit down, men." Price said from the corner of the room, uncrossing his arms and walking away from his stance against the wall. "We've got places to be, people to save, Graves to fill." A few young newbies snickered at his joke; the rest stayed quiet. The captain circled the large table, passing out beige files and black masks to everyone sitting down. "Kate, the TV, please." Laswell clicked a black remote, pointing it at a flat screen and waited for a picture to pop up.

A young women appeared, maybe early 20's. Mid-length hair with eyes that could kill. Her license picture, as intimidating as you'd think it be to look into the eyes of a missing woman, it wasn't at all.

Her smile was beautiful, completely clueless at what the terrible world had to offer. What the terrible world had become. She was nothing but happy, just happy to be wherever. No one said anything, but they were all lost in the picture, not sure if what they were feeling was frustration or admiration.

"This is Y/N L/N." Price cleared his throat before continuing, "I used to work with her father, he's a good man. I owe him my life; I'd give him anything."

He made his way to the head of the round table, "Y/N's missing. He's given us the substantial responsibility of finding her."

Gaz spoke up after raising his hand for a few seconds, "Do we know where she is?"

"Well, where do we always find ourselves treading off to when we get any sort of call?" Price said in a sarcastic tone, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

"Graves." Ghost and Soap spoke in unison, the man in the ghost mask cleaning his knife off with a dirty rag, and the one in with the mohawk stirring some sugar into a mug of tea.

Laswell and Price nodded in agreement to their guess, and everyone else sighed audibly, some out of relief and others in annoyance. Graves was never the best option, but lately it's been seeming like the only option. Soap stood up from his seat, groaning as he scooted his seat in. "Well? Let's get on it."

"You'll be fine, luv. Swear it." Ghost said to you as he trailed his fingers along your head gash, feeling for the cut before using his other hand to pour isopropyl on a cotton round. He suddenly remembered the picture from earlier, the innocent face that's now bloody and bruised thanks to one of the men he's spent years trying to destroy.

"It'll sting," he whispered, and Soap in the front seat breathed through his teeth sharp. "Ooh, I know that smell. That's the smell of pain." You felt your mouth upturn slightly, inhaling the rubbing alcohol as well and leaning into the childhood memories that rushed into your brain. Ones of you falling down on the playground, scraping your elbow on the asphalt and running towards the nearest teacher.

"You okay?" Ghost checked in as he stuck a bandage on your head, and you hummed in response, taking a deep breath in as you leaned back on your head rest. "There she is," Soap said while looking in the rearview mirror.

Arriving back at the base, you felt your eyes droop open and closed, feeling comforted at the feeling of Ghost's thumb rubbing against the side of your jeans, trying to nurse you back to health to the best of his ability. Soap parked the car, slowly pressing on the brake to appease Ghost's previous request.

"You got her, Simon?" Soap asked as he took the key out of the ignition and quietly grabbing his backpack from the front seat. Ghost grunted in approval, and waited till Soap got out of car and shut the door before figuring out what to do with your tired body.

"Should I carry you?" He whispered, bracing himself on the armrest of your seat and bringing the other hand up to the side of your face, balancing your head on his palm as you tried not to fall asleep. You whined in response, not truly being conscious enough to reply properly. "Right then," Ghost said, looking around for things to clean up before heading up to the base.

He got out of the car first, jumping down onto the gravel and reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt. "Let's go, Y/N."

"You know my name?" You said sleepily as he picked you up with an arm underneath your legs and the other wrapped around your waist, squeezing gently to signal you jump into his arms.

"Course I do, you've been the talk of the town lately."

"Wow." Rubbing your eyes sleepily, it caused Ghost to look down at your in his arms, distracting him altogether from his mission. All the sudden, your waterline started to fill with tears.

"What, what is it?"

"I couldn't even fight back." You started to cry, your eyes pouring out on your face, something Ghost tried so hard not to watch but had to.

"It's alright, bug, not many of us can get a rile out of Graves anyway, that's reason enough for an award."

You chuckled at the sentiment, and at the fact that he cared enough to attempt to cheer you up. Even if his humor was the corniest you'd ever been around, it was enough to lift your moods a little bit.

As he walked you into the base, a cold chill hit your bare arm, you felt the dried blood crackle as you shifted. "Brr, am I right?" Ghost tried once again to make you crack a smile, walking you into the closest guest room. It was a quaint area, just one cot with a few cream-colored sheets and a dusty quilt that someone had definitely donated from years past. There was only one overhead light, and after Ghost gently set you down on the bed, he walked over to flip the switch.

“This okay? Is your head hurting you?” He asked considerately, walking back over to look into your pupils, making sure you weren’t concussed. “Not too bad,” you responded, rubbing a dry hand on your face, and pulling it back only to find it was covered in blood. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned at the sight, feeling ill knowing there was still remnants of your attack.

“You’re still quite bloody, I couldn’t see very well in the dark car, but someone else will-.”

“You could’ve kept the light on,” you interrupted him, sitting up slightly and leaning your head on the metal bed frame.

“What?” Ghost whispered, knowing good and well what you were implying, but not wanting to act it.

“You turned the light off, in the car, but you could’ve kept it on to see me better. Why didn’t you?”

He exhaled, slightly clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I know, I- I just couldn’t-" He paused to regain control over his stuttering, “I hated seeing you cry.”

Ghost walked over to a small sink, turning one of the knobs and dampening a rag before walking back over to you. He stopped a few paces in front of your bed, just to stare at you. The entirety of your body, nothing left unscathed. Your jeans were torn to shreds, red liquid lacing every stitch. The shirt you wore was drenched in rain and blood, and it ripped in the front, allowing cleavage to poke through, making Ghost’s eyes close abruptly when he saw it.

“You don’t even know me, Ghost, why would it bother you so much?” You adjusted yourself so your legs hung off the side of the bed, your shoulder facing where Ghost stood. “I know, but, I know of you.”

He continued, “Your father, he worked with Price, yeah? Price said your pops gave him the job of finding you.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, but before you could say anything, you were interrupted.

“Oi, Lieutenant, you’re needed. Price says it’s an emergency.” An unfamiliar voice yelled from the hallway, before a few loud knocks at the door.

“I’m takin care of the girl, Gaz,-"

“Nope, Price said now.”

He frustratedly stood up, tapping his foot a few times before turning to you again.

You spoke first, “It’s fine, really, someone else will come along and clean me up.”

Ghost nodded, crossing his arms across his chest. “You sure?” You nodded your head as well in response, knowing that he wasn’t just some soldier, he was Ghost, a Lieutenant, a leader.

A killer.

“I’ll be back in the mornin, I swear it. With coffee and everything.” With that, Ghost left the room, his large boots and velcro straps with keychains hanging from them rattling and filling the room before fading out.

You were terrified, there was no other way to put it. And at this point, could anyone even be trusted? Sure, Ghost seemed nice enough, he wasted his time to tend to you, and Soap was eager to help as well, but it all seemed too strange, too strategic. How was Graves connected to the 141 Task Force? Why had Ghost mentioned they had been affiliated before?

You pulled out a locket from underneath your shirt, a small medallion that would be worth thousands if you had offered it to a trader, but the thought never crossed your mind. Inside was a picture of your father, someone you hadn’t seen in years. How in the world would he know you’d gotten kidnapped? He wasn’t even in the same country, let alone care enough to keep tabs on you. He was a terrible man, someone you told yourself and many others to stay away from. There had to be something else going on, something beneath the surface and even if Ghost didn’t know of it, he was still a part of it.

As much as you didn’t want to trust Ghost, you feared he was all you could lean on. You promised yourself once he’d get back in the morning, you’d discuss it with him; how Price talked to your father, and if it was even your father he was talking to? Hopefully, he'd have the answers, and if not, you'd at least have someone to talk to.

Plus, it didn't hurt how attractive he was.

[osamucide]

bitch

we do things a different way, it's up to you and it's up to me, i'm your bitch, you're my bitch . . . !

NSFW CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 3k

cw: dom!atsushi, gn!afab!+ada!reader, dazai being an asshole, established relationship, teasing, nicknames (darling, pretty, bitch), use of cunt/clit/hole/cock/dick, begging, fingering, penetration, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, orgasm denial, praise, creampie, cum eating, questionable confessions upon climaxing? FILTH FILTH FILTH

reid: my dazai shrine is more of a dazai and atsushi shrine at this point…oops anyway ENJOY hahaha

. . . .ᐟ

For as much affection as Atsushi holds for his mentor, the bandaged man is also the bane of his existence.

It's apparent in situations like this - ones where Dazai has once again made some sort of good-natured poke at your relationship with Atsushi, and the white-haired boy can't help but cross his arms and try to stay stone-faced while he blushes. The worst part is you always giggle along with his elder.

Not that Atsushi’s particularly embarrassed when it comes to discussing your relationship with your coworkers. Rather, what bothers him is the way Dazai and the others have ran with the narrative that Atsushi’s your loyal cat, you have him under your thumb, you wear the pants, blah, blah, blah.

He blames himself, partially. He let them go so far with the jokes and the teasing and his gentle, docile nature toward others. Everyone seems to assume now that it’s all true. Atsushi just doesn’t know how to dispel these conceptions, no, misconceptions that he alone is your pet, your baby, that he’s submissive to you somehow, without being vulgar or crude.

Because you both know that’s not always true.

But it’s no one else’s business, really. Sure, he brings you your coffee just how you like it every morning, and sure, your first instinct after stressful missions and assignments is to fold him into a hug and let him collect himself in your arms. Sure, you take good care of him and he likes to give that appreciation back. Sure, he picks up your extra paperwork when you’re just too tired.

But today, when Dazai looks up from stirring his coffee to coo and remark, “It’s just so cute that Atsushi’s your little bitch,” it stirs something in your weretiger that he doesn’t find appropriate to express at the table in the café, surrounded by his colleagues.

So he sits there and takes it like he always does. Sure, you never give into prodding at him quite like Dazai encourages you to, but you don’t deny it. You still laugh. Even while you’re pink in the cheeks too, you nudge your lover under the table and will him to play along.

And he does, for the most part. He sends you sheepish smiles while he taps his foot, tries to wipe the flush from his face, even laughs along to mask his irritation.

Until he can get you home and prove them wrong to the only person that really matters - you.

“God, my head’s starting to hurt so bad. Think I looked at the computer for too long today,” Atsushi says a little shakily. It’s true that it was an office-heavy day; whether or not his comment is a cop-out is lost on you.

You turn to him. “I’ll get you some water from the bar and we can head home, sound good? I’m actually pretty tired, too.”

The smile he flashes you is pure as can be. “I would love that, my darling.”

Dazai glances between the both of you as you usher Atsushi out of the booth. Your superior turns to strike up a conversation with Kunikida about how, yeah, his head hurts too! Why do you give us so much work, Ku-ni-ki-da-kun?

The sweet barista slides you a cup of water; you thank her and wave goodbye to your coworkers as the bell above the door sings your departure.

Atsushi tangles his free hand with yours as he sips his water intently. You swing your arms a bit along the slight breeze. “Good thing I just picked up some more tylenol. I knew we were running lo-”

“Dazai annoys the shit out of me sometimes,” your lover interrupts you. You blink a few times. It’s rare for Atsushi to be so forward with such a sentiment. Unless he’s really pissed. Or, unless-

“Yeah, he can be a little much with the teasing,” you agree, looking ahead. “If it’s uncomfortable, Atsu, I’ll tell him to tone it down, and I’m sure he would. He’s a dick, but he’s not that much of a dick.”

“No, it’s not that it’s…” He swallows, withdrawing a bit. “Uncomfortable, I just… don’t understand what’s with the, uh… you know.”

You quirk your head toward him. “The…?”

He groans a little. “The way they all assume I’m your bitch.”

You pause for a moment.

Then, you chuckle a bit. “Oh, that’s what it’s about.”

Atsushi whips his head to glare at you wide-eyed.

“Yeah, it is.”

You’re silent the rest of your walk. You’re silent as you jiggle your key in the lock to your dorm. You’re certainly aware that Atsushi can be dominant when he wants to. He knows you’re aware of this.

“Well,” you muse innocently as you rummage around in one of your kitchen cabinets as he shuts the door abruptly and pulls his shoes off, “I don’t exactly know how to tell them otherwise, Atsu. You wanna tell ‘em what we get up to?” You shake a couple pills into his hand - whether or not the headache was genuine is still beyond you until he backs you toward the counter, slams his meds and empty cup beneath his palms, and cages you into a feverish kiss.

No headache, you conclude. You lock your arms around his neck and smile into him.

There’s nothing humorous, however, in the way he scoops you up by your ass - you yelp because you’re always caught off guard by his effortless strength - and carries you until he can drop you on your back onto your futon.

Atsushi’s warm lips don’t leave yours for a second as he wedges a knee between your legs and presses into you hard without hesitation. Your gasp lets his tongue behind your teeth. Your eyes slip open as his hands work in the space between your hips and your shoulders and you realize he’s serious. He wants them to know the truth.

“Everyone thinks you’ve got me whipped. And they’re right,” Atsushi’s nearly growling into your mouth as he makes quick work of your tie and button up. “But sometimes it seems like you forget-” He captures your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back to stare down at you. “-you’re just as needy for me.”

With that, he starts down your neck.

The kisses he presses there are more of bites - he laps at them, soothing each blooming red patch with his hot tongue. You grab at his hair.

“Gonna let me remind you of that, huh?” His fingers are undoing your belt, and he’s leaning back to look down at you.

Of course, you look gorgeous, nodding obediently as your hands fall back on either side of your head. Atsushi works you out of your pants. Already breathless, you reach for his clothes, too. You really could undo him with the simplest of touches, the softest of looks; he was determined, however, to live up to his words. He was going to remind you.

You barely get his shirt all the way unbuttoned before he’s circling your cunt with two fingers.

You gasp once more.

“So wet.” It’s an observation he makes almost every time; it makes you go red no less.

It’s really a sight, your weretiger so fiery and assertive. You understand why people tend to take him for a softie; they don’t know him like you do, though, and the thought makes you grin as he works you open on his hand. Your hands fly to your mouth as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks down at you wildly.

Atsushi’s so pretty with his hair mussed and his abs flexing in anticipation. His fingers sink into you with fervor.

“Atsu,” you croon out as he curls inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

He’s concentrated as he yanks his pants down and off with one hand and stretches you out with the other. His multitasking comes to a halt as his cock hits his stomach - you’re empty again, his fingers leaving you with a pop!

He lets you lean up to push his shirt off his shoulders, but the second you reach for him, he smacks your hands away.

“Nuh-uh. Gonna do it my way,” he tells you, grabbing you by the hips to pull you up and flush against his pelvis - with this, your back hits the futon again, and you’re breathless once more from his manhandling. His eyes are dark, dual-tone sinking like a sunset as he stares down your body like you’re a god.

Your knees have bent on instinct - Atsushi takes one of your ankles and hooks it over his shoulder before pressing his tip against your waiting hole.

You must make a face, because he grins wickedly.

“Already got your eyes rollin’ back and I’m not even in you yet.” It’s his turn to laugh, and his laugh is meant to mock you. Mock your laughing from earlier. Mock Dazai. Mock everyone who thinks you don’t completely belong to him.

He pushes his silver bangs back and grinds his cock against you.

Your hips roll. You can’t help it - there’s a sheen of sweat on Atsushi’s forehead already, and he’s rolling his bottom lip between his teeth again. He looks like an angel. Your other leg wraps around his waist in attempt to pull him closer, to get him inside you, but he just holds you by one thigh, one hip, and keeps grinding into your clit torturously.

“You want it, pretty?”

You nod furiously - he won’t not give it to you. He can’t hold himself back when it comes to you, you’re sure.

“Better say please.”

“Please,” you keen. “Want you to fuck me, please.”

He keeps grinding. He keeps looking down at you. He grips you harder.

“A- Atsu,” you continue. “Please. Please, please, please.”

But he just keeps looking at you.

“I want it, please,” you keep going, keep drawing milky noises from between you both in your pathetic attempt at friction, unsure of what he’s looking for.

Your weretiger’s jaw sets.

Among your frantic humping, you let everything you can think tumble out.

“Please, fuck me, Atsu! Claim me, please. ‘M yours, I’m all yours, I want it, I want it, just fuck me like you own me, please-“

That’s what he’s looking for.

It’s all he needs to plunge into you. He sets a brutal pace and you arch, your whining, moaning, and sobbing underscoring the rhythmic smack, smack, smack! of his hips against yours.

And he fucks you like this for what feels like forever.

Atsushi’s hands alternate between your waist, your nipples, your neck, your ass, your single calf and other hip, your clit, over the next twenty? thirty? minutes. It’s hard to tell how long he drills into you - after the first time he pulls his hand off your twitching clit to put your orgasm off further, time is far beyond your grasp.

He denies you thrice more, laughing through his groans. He’s looking at you in the most condescending way possible through the haze of utter love he feels for you all the time - especially right now - hoping he’s made his point as he tells you no, not yet, so good for me, gotta make sure you know whose you are, one more for me, you’ll cum when I tell you to, pretty.

Something about today must’ve really gotten to him - it’s undoubtedly the longest his patience has spread through his words and commands, some new, some old, some making you clench around him like a virgin.

“You’re cock drunk-” Atsushi pulls a hand off the calf next to his face and licks his fingertips before reaching down to play with you once more. “-every- hah- every time I’m in you. You love this dick.”

“Ah- ah- ah- ‘tsu!” You’re incoherent against his pace - you’re giving him everything you can, really. He’s relentless right now. “Y- yes!”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Hah-” He rubs you hard and fast while he impales you on him. ‘“Wanna hear you say it.”

There’s a tinge of a whine in his command - a tinge that, if he wasn’t fucking you out of your skin right now, would’ve made you smirk. His insistence that he can take control and keep it would’ve usually made you snicker, but right now Atsushi has one hand driving you steadily toward heaven, the other gripping your neck, and his two-toned eyes are burning almost completely violet beneath his creased brow as he awaits your response. All you can give him is strangled breath.

“Nngh- huh- ah!”

It’s like a switch flips for a moment. He circles his hips, trying to let you catch a break to speak, but his grinding against that one spot inside you coupled with his fingers on your pulse in two places barely gives you the chance - you claw into his biceps as he slows to a brief stop. Neither of you know if the whimper you let out is one of relief for a lull or pain at the loss of his thrusts.

You can tell he’s biting at the inside of his cheek before he slides his hand up to your jaw and hunches forward to kiss you fully and sweetly on the lips. The look in his eyes as he pulls back is chaste compared to how he’s still throbbing inside you.

“You okay, pretty?” He traces the shell of your ear with his finger. The flecks of green in his gaze sparkle momentarily. There’s the Atsushi everyone knows and loves.

You let out a final huff and squeeze his arms reassuringly before you answer. “More than okay. Just winded.”

The smile he sends you is alight with nothing but adoration.

Atsushi kisses you again, this time on the forehead where he mumbles a quiet good, and strokes your face. He shifts himself around a little, giving you a second while you mutter about how good he feels, how he should please keep fucking you, how much you want him to make you cum.

When he pulls himself upright again, the flecks of green are lost in the violet once more.

“Now that you got your voice back-“ His fingers still ghost across your cheek, teasing gently toward your lips. He lets out a single sigh, too. “-I said I wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck it out of me,” you challenge.

Atsushi draws his lips together, shakes his head, and picks back up where he left off, angling as deep as he can reach. He’s entranced by the way your cunt swallows him, soaks him - your words ring in his head as he thumbs at your clit again.

“Say it,” he snarls.

You’re rocking madly against his hand and his cock - you’re close again, he can tell from the way you’re babbling anything but what he’s asking you to, if not from the way you rake your nails down his arms.

“I’ll let you cum when you say it.” Atsushi shakes your leg off his shoulder to push it back against you, along with your other one. “Need you to say it.”

“Love you, Atsu-“ you tease him. “Love you, fuck!”

“Say it!” He cries your name and doubles over, his elbow landing on one side of your head as he pounds you impossibly harder. “Say it, say it, say it, say it, please.”

Finally, you’re able to muster up that smirk. He can’t see it - his face is buried in your neck; he’s watching the way you ripple beneath the tight back-and-forth swipes across your clit.

You’re shaking - you want to hold off for as long as you can, get back at him for denying you so many times, but the feeling is too all-encompassing from the way Atsushi reaches your guts and abuses your clit and breathes into your shoulder that you have to - plus, he asked so nicely! You just have to let him get what he wants.

“I love this dick, Atsu,” you sob. “L- love this dick. Would die for this dick- ngh- Wanna- ah! Ah!”

“Fuck, th- thank you.”

Silver hair falls over your eyes. Atsushi’s hips stutter in time with yours.

A white-hot shimmer rolls over you as your weretiger pushes you over the edge - you thank him back, you tell him you love him, you curl your legs around his hips and swear you go blind for a moment as he fucks his cum into you, wet, warm, squelching.

“Fuck-“ Atsushi’s cursing between your name, “Fuck, you feel so good. So good for me. Fuck! Love you, love you, I love you-“

You feel a few tears in the crook of your neck - you know he was just as desperate as you - and Atsushi doesn’t stop moving until you’re glazed over and squirming numbly, kicking at him with what minimal strength you have left, pulling his face toward yours for a kiss.

His vigor is spent - his other arm supports him as you cup his face, tuck his single long strand of hair behind his ear, and press your panting mouth to his.

The kiss is long and sweet. Atsushi twitches inside you; you feel slick dripping down the curve of your ass toward your sheets, but can’t find it in you to care. You just kiss your man, gently, softly, breathlessly.

Atsushi finally pulls back, sits up on his knees. He dips two fingers in the mixture of cum leaking out of you and licks them clean.

He leans down to kiss you one more time; you taste both of you on his tongue. “Hope you know you’re my bitch just as much as I am yours.”

In all actuality, you scarcely need reminding, but you’ll happily crumble beneath him every time he asks because you love seeing him in the way he was minutes ago - sweaty, disheveled, knuckles white, jaw slack as he pumps you full of his cum and tells you you’re so good for him, you make him feel so good. It’s worth it to know he feels loved and cared for; it’s worth it to know he feels like he can give that back to you.

Even after all that, he’s still grinning wickedly.

Yeah, you’re going another round. Maybe this time you’ll really show him who he belongs to.

[immediatebreakfast]

A lot of things happened today, a lot of horrible things. A full circus of errors orchestrated by the narrative to serve the high end of tragedy. Everything thrown to this poor young lady who just wanted to get married, and live happily.

And yet it's incredible to read how Dracula practically organized the worst way possible to deliver the last blow to poor Lucy.

Every action, and horrible moment translates into a domino effect that traps Lucy in her own house, surrounded by death, and then utterly alone.

Dracula is merciless as we have known. The poor mother with the wolves, those babies only knowing pain and then death, even the Weird Sisters as horrible as they were are subjected to this man's orders and treatment. Plus, all of the locals of Transylvania being terrorized for centuries.

Then it comes Jonathan, and now Lucy.

All of Dracula's actions feel full of rage. Rage of being foiled, of seeing how his target keeps on living despite being utterly drained of blood two separate times. He was capricious with Lucy in Whitby by capturing her nightmares as he drank in leisure, but now it became about power over a life.

"but I did not fear to go to sleep again, although the boughs or bats or something napped almost angrily against the window-panes." - Lucy Westenra.

Our dear Lucy doesn't fear the nightmares anymore, she doesn't fear the darkness, nor is worried about the fog inside her head ordering to do things that cause her harm because Lucy is now surrounded by love, by medicine, by people that care about her.

She knows about the horrors, about the nightmares, about the harm that has been inflicted upon her. However, lucy doesn't fear that anymore, with her beautiful garlic wreath around her neck, healthy, and clear of mind she doesn't fear.

And what happens when it's clear to Dracula that Lucy doesn't fear his power?

"I went to the window and looked out, but could see nothing, except a big bat, which had evidently been buffeting its wings against the window."

This single moment, this tiny moment of simply looking at Dracula directly, it's probably the drop that made the glass explode. This is all speculation of course, but just imagine the miriad of emotions, questions, and decisions that traveled through Dracula's brain in that single moment.

The girl, not dead, full of life, eyes as clear as the morning sky, with a wreath of garlic flowers (mountain ash to repel) around her neck looking right at him without a shred of fear... those wretched peasants arming themselves with their knowledge thinking that they could survive him. The young solicitor with the crucifix, denying him of what is rightfully his, and striking him down with a simple shovel.

What does she deserve after this? Death. Death to her mother, death to her loved ones, death to herself... or maybe something worse.

This ancient evil got so angry that this young lady was holding so much to her life that he orchestrated a living nightmare to kill her.

Because who is this mortal human to deny the orders of a lord defeating time itself?

[meyhew]

You condone violence against innocent civilians?

i don’t “condone” it but i’m not condemning it in this context because apart from the actual babies and children, there are no “innocent civilians” in israel. the men, the women, the elderly—they’re all settlers and they’re all complicit in the crimes of their government. almost all of them have homes they can flee to outside of israel. they take their sweet time packing up their bags and going to the airport to fly elsewhere. a huge number of the israeli population also holds american citizenship because they are all settlers. they are living on very recently stolen land, in other people’s very recently stolen homes. they have in the past made it a celebration to watch missiles strike palestinian civilians. after facing decades of terror and brutalization, if palestinians are finally striking back violently, i 100% support it. and they have not intentionally targeted civilians i beg u to actually get news from somewhere that isn’t western media twisting the narrative. purposefully killing and torturing civilians is a tactic straight out of israel’s playbook. not palestine’s. everything israel is promising to do in retaliation, it has already done to the people of gaza. it has already killed and abducted women and children on purpose, for years on end. thousands of people jailed indefinitely without cause. countless residents bombed to rubble. where’s the condemnation from everyone for that

and once again, even if a handful of civilians were targeted by hamas, i don’t condemn it. because again: the civilians are fucking settlers. palestinians have been nonviolent in their resistance for a long time and an oppressed group can only be passive for so long before they start to hate their aggressor. all of this is a result of the israeli government terrorizing palestinians for decades and the israeli settlers choosing to be there. who would the israeli government do all this for if there wasn’t a population it was governing? only the children are absolved of that guilt because they haven’t had the choice to be there or move back to wherever the fuck they came from

open up a history book. decolonization is violent. and i will always be on the side of the oppressed, no matter how violently they fight back

[rosanna-writer]

Knuckles Bruised Like Violets (1/1)

Summary: Love blooms at the garden expo when Elain witnesses a handsome stranger pick a fight with Tamlin. Pairing: Elriel Warnings: None Rating: General Audiences Word Count: ~1.2k

Read on AO3 or under the readmore!

Elain had known they'd cross paths again. She was a florist. He owned a nursery. Running into her sister's ex at some industry event was bound to happen before long.

But even if she'd been able to see the future, Elain would never have guessed that Tamlin would be bold enough to buy a bouquet for his new girlfriend from his ex-fiancée's sister, a few short weeks after they'd called the wedding off.

To make it worse, the new girl was there with him, too. Briar—Elain only remembered her name because Nesta had scoffed it at Feyre during a much-needed girls' night ("Really? Were her parents naming a baby or a rabbit?"). Elain wouldn't forget, not when the eldest Archeron's mean streak had actually made her baby sister crack a smile.

From behind the cash register, Elain tried not to vomit at the sight of Tamlin making eyes at Briar the way he used to do with Feyre. They were browsing what was left of the flower arrangements for sale, and this late on the last day of the expo, there wasn't much. Especially not at Elain's booth. Her arrangements were by far the loveliest, selling out every year she'd been a vendor. If Elain had to guess, Tamlin had only mustered the courage to show his face in her corner of the convention center because he'd wanted to impress Briar with the best roses available.

If she hated conflict a bit less, Elain would have been looking forward to telling him she refused to make the sale.

Instead, dread was already blooming in the pit of her stomach. The whole thing would be horribly uncomfortable, and she wouldn't put it past Tamlin to raise his voice—or spin the narrative and make her look petty in front of other colleagues.

But the dread lessened just a bit when the most beautiful man Elain had ever seen stopped at her booth. He was intently studying the very last bunch of pink roses, and Elain let herself appreciate his classically handsome features, shiny close-cropped black hair, and the cut of the cobalt t-shirt that showed off the powerful muscles of his arms.

She supposed if he caught her staring, she'd just say she was trying to read the word emblazoned on his chest—Rosehall, if she wasn't mistaken. Perhaps another vendor, then. She could ask about it, strike up a conversation, maybe get his number.

Assuming, of course, that Tamlin didn't decide to ruin her day.

It seemed likely that that he would—her sister's ex was already reaching for the bouquet the stranger had been eyeing. Elain steeled herself for an uncomfortable conversation.

The stranger snatched the bouquet before Tamlin had a chance to. The pair exchanged a few tense words that Elain couldn't quite hear over the noise of the crowded garden expo, though she made out the words "here first" and "for my mother."

One sweet smile and a well-timed offer to ring up the purchase would diffuse the tension if Elain pointedly directed them at the stranger. She meant to do it. Really, she did.

But the man's fist had already collided with Tamlin's jaw.

He punched like an expert, with brutal, ruthless economy of movement even as he cradled the bouquet of roses like a sleeping baby in his other arm. Elain should have called for security, but she was too entranced to do anything but stay rooted to the spot.

Tamlin wound up to hit back, but Briar was already cupping his uninjured cheek and fussing. He let his fist drop uselessly to the side, and she led him away as she murmured something about finding an ice pack.

Perhaps that should have been Elain's cue to call security. But she found herself smiling and saying, "I can ring you up if you're finished browsing."

At the sound of her voice, the man turned, his eyes going wide in pure shock. He must not have realized she'd been watching the entire time.

He stepped closer, careful not to crush any of the petals as he handed her the bouquet to scan. "I'm sorry about that," he said.

His voice was midnight-dark, and Elain tried not to shiver as she wondered what it would sound like saying her name. "Don't be," she said brightly. "You saved me the trouble of telling him to leave."

"Has he been giving you problems?"

Elain had the sneaking suspicion that if she said yes, he'd offer to take care of it permanently.

"My sister broke off her engagement to him just a few weeks ago."

The man went still, and there was something preternatural about it, as if he were one the dangerous faeries of myth, something far too otherworldly for a Sunday afternoon in a too-bright event complex full of vendors hawking hedge shears and patio furniture. "You're Feyre's sister?"

Names have power. The thought came to her unbidden, the only fragment from a long-forgotten story that was still rattling around in her brain. A warning. Elain said nothing, just shook her head as if to clear it.

The man wasn't a faerie. Just…strangely magnetic. And hot.

Perhaps he'd realized the sudden outburst of violence—even if it had been directed at someone she hated—might have frightened her. He softened his expression and politely held out a hand. "I'm Azriel. Rhys's brother."

Right. Rhysand—the new boyfriend that they hadn't met yet but Nesta had immediately decided was sketchy. The newfound awareness that she might run into Azriel again jolted her back to reality, and Elain regained her manners and shook his hand.

His skin was rough against hers. Not from callouses, like the hands of hundreds of other gardeners Elain had greeted over the years, but from scars. Out of politeness, she pretended not to notice, as tempted as she was to run her fingers along them slowly.

"I'm Elain. It's very nice to meet you."

"You too," he said, sliding his card into the reader. After a beat of silence, he added, "Feyre sent me, by the way. I mentioned I was getting flowers for my mother's birthday, and she said her sister was the best florist in the business."

Thank God for her younger sister; Elain decided she'd thank Feyre by making sure not to mention to Nesta that the mysterious Rhysand had already introduced Feyre to his family.

If all the customers Feyre sent her way were like Azriel, Elain certainly wasn't about to discourage her.

"Did you find everything to your liking?" she said, fluttering her lashes to make sure it was clear she wasn't only talking about the flowers.

"It's perfect."

The receipt printed, and Elain grabbed a pen and jotted her phone number down before sliding the paper across the counter. Azriel's brows flicked up.

"In case Tamlin presses charges and you need a witness to swear you didn't put a hand on him." There were probably security cameras somewhere, but a few seconds of grainy video wouldn't be more convincing than Elain Archeron's doe eyes.

"And if it doesn't get to that point?"

She smiled. "You can still give me a call anyway."

Before Azriel left, he saved the number to his phone—a wordless promise. Elain sold the last of her arrangements with a newfound spring in her step.

[emmitaaa4]

Addressing some fandom BS inconsistencies

Gwyn was shadow mommy, Az was shadow daddy, they were gonna have shadow babies with her extra super pliable bones.

I audibly chocked when I read this @nikethestatue (btw everything said in this post was on point). No but seriously this is how they sound, too many of them insisting that there is nothing wrong with basing the likelihood of a ship on who has the more suitable uterus to be with a man... cause supposedly they're just picking up on the hints SJM wrote for them? She likes babies for HEAs so ofc children are the end all be all of a relationship, plus there's absolutely no way that she could ever write an adoption plot SJM is literally adopted and has done it in other series. Selective reading strikes again.

A minimum amount of critical thinking would tell you that 1) the infamous *magical uterus change* scene was about nessian (& feysand), not about any ship; 2) if SJM had written Nesta changing Elain's uterus, it would have given too much away, not to mention 3) how disturbing/violating it would have been for Nesta to change her sister's reproductive anatomy WITHOUT HER CONSENT?! None of it makes sense narratively; my girl Nes would never, especially given the trauma they both suffered from having their bodily autonomy--and so much more--ripped away by the Cauldron.

This argument is so trivialized that I see it every other day on reddit/tiktok/*insert media app*, and yet elriels are the toxic side of the fandom? The ones whom people are allowed to insult, to ridicule for theories all made in good fun, the women that are villainized over a difference of opinion? Don't get me wrong, there's assholes on both sides and people keep calling one another variations of delulu (and the nastier personal attacks). But by painting this fandom-wide villain there is such a lack of accountability for the plethora of harmful talking points spread by other portions of the fandom. (I've been silently reading the anti-elain & anti-elriel tags for like a year, and I'm on tiktok. Yes, I have self-destructive tendencies).

Anyways.

I never understood either how people ever actually thought (or well still think) that gwynriel would happen BEFORE elucien?? It makes no sense logically, narratively, or in terms of characterization & the arc she's set up for Elain, Azriel, and Lucien. Yet it took one controversial bonus chapter for people to decenter Elain in her own story, that is make her choice of romantic partner--which SJM spent 3+ books setting up--Azriel's. It took one bonus chapter that soo many readers are still unaware of, to brush Elain off as a "sexual object" Az is using to distract himself until his therapist-extraordinaire Gwyn comes in and heals him all up. Because ofc she will: she's badass and not the "passive and weak and boring" Eplain (aka "Plant" or "brain dead gardener"), she fits the YA archetype of the spunky warrior-girl so she can handle his darkness, and SJM supposedly spent time fleshing her out because she wrote her as a LI for Azriel; she's made for him, she is what he needs to grow (I actually enjoyed Gwyn's character btw, just pointing out how silly it all sounds). “Next book is a love triangle between Elain/Az/Gwyn” “Elain will turn evil or is secretly evil”. So you're telling me that SJM would pit Elain & Gwyn against each other in a love triangle over a man... all because of a necklace that was not even mentioned once in the actual books? Please, let's be logical for a second.

All this because instead of reading the bonus chapter in the context of the books, some people are reading the books in the context of the bonus chapter. Which now that I think of it is probably why so many people mischaracterize Az the way they do--because yes we know enough of his character to know half of the stuff the fandom diagnoses him with is questionable. Azriel? Entitled incel x fuckboy hybrid (gotta be the first of his kind, minute slay ig)? Interesting tell me more. No joke I saw a semi-popular post on here where a gwynriel said they read the bonus WITHOUT HAVING READ ANY OF THE BOOKS. I'm sorry, ship wars are silly and believe it or not idc who ppl ship, but it makes it hard to take some of the things they say seriously.

All this to say that the fandom isn't even debating the right thing. If you consider everything SJM has said in her interviews:

(she's been planting seeds for Nesta & Elain's book since acomaf; she knows who she is writing the first 2 books about + is keeping things open for the 3rd one--with 5 different ship options--which automatically rules out "Elain will close the series"; she said she's doing research for Elain's book in the ACOFAS bonus & there's seeds for future bookS in acofas; all she said recently about her beloved *heroines* and the themes of fate/true love/choice she finds *very* interesting & wants to discuss)

and if you also consider all she's written in the actual books (elain's characterization + the overarching plot in general & how she fits into it), then it's pretty evident that Elain's book is next.

The question then would be who is the MMC / 2nd PoV in her book, aka would acotar 5 be an elucien or an elriel story? Because logically, gwynriel was always a consequence of elucien. I honestly do not understand how people don't see that.

Oh and they always think they're gagging elriels with the "obviously Azriel is the next MC" as if elriels aren't saying the same thing? And we're the ones twisting info and not making sense. It's just funny at this point.

---sidenote: I realize that this post generalizes some things, and I just wanted to say that I have interacted with lovely eluciens / people on either side of this headache of a ship war. My hard limit is Elain haters though... back off I say 🤺 BACK OFF 🤺

---sidenote 2: I would have written this as a reblog except im not entirely sure how tumblr works and I get no visibility from them rip.

[brostateexam]

Have finished the first five seasons of Grey's. I watched season 1, 2, and 3 as they came out, but missed most of season 4 and 5 as it aired. I remember reading Shonda Rimes' blog, and I still remember what she had to say about the season 3 finale: "I had to burn it all down."

She was referring to the decision to split up two of the principal pairings (Christina + Burke and Meredith + Derek), this undoing a lot of narrative work that has gone into season 3. I remember feeling wildly dissatisfied with the finale at the time, mainly because it felt out of left field and unearned, drama for the sake of drama in a season that had already seen quite a bit of it. It starts with Izzie on the bathroom floor, which to me is still an iconic image that was a defining moment for shows at the time -- the season doesn't lack for drama! The finale just seemed jarring and unnecessary, throwing in complications to get people to tune back in for season 4. Instead, I mostly got off the roller coaster altogether, and wouldn't begin watching regularly again until season 6.

Having watched all of the seasons that I largely missed, I'll say that I don't feel I missed that much. Some really interesting medical episodes and the introduction of a few great and long-standing Grey's characters (Arizona, Hunt, and Lexie) aside, there's a lot of sound and fury, but it's directionless. There are tons of plot lines that sort of loop around on themselves and then flame out (some examples: the small army of interns that the residents get, the introduction of Meredith's former bff Sadie, the entirety of the George/Izzie romance).

I don't think the writing in Grey's is bad. It's soapy, but that's not the same as bad. I think the overall direction of the show gets pretty fucking messy for a bit, though -- and that messiness coincides with the writer's strike and a truncated season 4, which I'm sure was contributive -- but then even with season 5, they don't really right the ship.

Rewatching the show has been interesting for many reasons. It's reminded me of being a teenager, and it's been fun to see that my fundamental perception of many characters has changed, since they've gone from cool older people to dumb dramatic babies in their 20s. It has also affirmed for me, though, that seasons 4 and 5 were a rough patch for the series.

[ragnarokhound]

hey sweetie how are you. I made banana bread for breakfast tomorrow but DON’T touch it till then, it won’t be as good

there’s a post going around about the dynamic of a guard dog character, a lamb, and a wolf (one wants to possess and protect the lamb, one wants to devour it). How do you think jaytimkon fits in this?

ps… 10 things i hate about you? thoughts?

hey sweetie, i'm pretty good uwu had a nice day yesterday walking around my neighborhood with a friend! <3 And ough herrghh mrregghh gragghhhh (<- actively holding myself back from tearing into the banana bread immediately, i'll be strong for you bb but know that you are testing my limits in new and exciting ways)

Putting my responses to both (!! >:0) the jaytimkon and 10 Things ideas under a cut because *deep sigh* it got long lol

BRUH. BRUHHHHHHH. You cannot simply say this to me. You Cannot. Simply. SAY THIS TO ME, YOU'RE NOT SLICK

Once again testing my limits in new and exciting ways because I have a different WIP deadline fast approaching so I simply cannot write more for my actively inspired by guard dog x lamb x wolf jaytimkon WIP to SHOW YOU, in DETAIL, EXACTLY how i think jaytimkon fits into this, BUT

My feelings on this are many, and partially answered in these asks already. But I'll reiterate that they are all three facets simultaneously, baby. Depending on who's talking, they think of themselves as this, that, or the other; the loving, vigilant protector - the helpless, vulnerable bleeding heart - the hungry, slinking interloper. The story I have been brooding over for almost a year now (egads) WILL feature a somewhat slowburn where each of them takes turns realizing which one they are and slowly changing their minds as the narrative progresses and their relationship heats up 🔥w🔥BUT BE PATIENT BECAUSE I SURE HAVE TO BE (*whining and whimpering i crave this banana bread)

P.S. I love the taming of the shrew, and it's absolutely perfect jaytim material are you KIDDING. Cramming two different concepts into one ask. Evil. Diabolical. I love my wife.

10 Things I Hate About You is such a fun movie, and I could honestly see the role of Kate being played equally well by either Tim or Jason lol, and in a somewhat reverse robins style, Dick taking on the role of Bianca. Wally or Kori or [Your Choice Here] in the role of Cameron, wanting to date him. In fact, ohhhh OHHHH okay. Okay bear with me while i cook--

Consider Oldest Child Dick Grayson-Wayne who is super popular, super well loved, everyone wants to date him - but he always begs off because he doesn't want his younger brother, Jason, to be left in the lurch. Standoffish, bookish, i-heard-he-did-time, 'whats it to you' Jason, who has maybe two friends but they go to a different school so he doesn't have anyone to sit with at lunch besides his charming older brother. Dick's party line is, "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my bro. Good luck! :)" (Something something, Dick and Jason are both adopted, something something Dick doesn't actually wanna date anyone, send tweet)

NOW. Fast forward to when Dick meets someone he might actually want to date. But to keep the ravenous hordes away from him, he still, regretfully, must stick to his guns. Jason needs to be dating/friends with/hanging out with/etc someone else before he and this person (again, Your Dickship of Choice Here) can boogie down.

Cue Dick nudging Jason out of the blue to strike out on his own and Jason getting squinty-eyed suspicious (and secretly a little hurt) that Dick apparently sees him as some kind of burden to be offloaded or whatever. Thanks bro. :(

Thus, Dick and his prospective SO hatch a Scheme. A Scheme to see Jason Woo'd in such a way to keep the heat off Dick from both the collective horny student body AND his sensitive younger brother. Enter Tim Drake.

Tim transferred this year and people have been speculating like crazy about him. His grades are insane so people think he'll be a nerd, but he skateboards to school so people think he'll be a stoner, but he's crazy athletic so people think he'll be trying out for the swim team or something - but mostly? People don't know shit. He's friendly enough, but stays apart. An enigma. Cuts school at least twice a week, hasn't seemed to pick any one crowd with which to integrate, is unaffiliated with any one piece of the greater student body. The most anyone can really tell is that he's just a little unhinged and strapped for cash. He'll pull some crazy stunts - if you've got the money.

Which makes him perfect.

Cue Shakespearean shenanigans leading to Some Asshole (your choice of Dick notp here) offering to pay Tim if he dates Jason Todd-Wayne. Tim thinks it's kinda stupid and an asshole move at first, but apparently the money is too good for him to pass up. So he bites.

Tim stalkers his way into interacting with Jason (something something Jason shoving Tim against the wall outside a 7-11 after school and snarling in his face, "i know you're following me. the fuck do you want" and Tim smirking at him, "to ask you out." Jason blinking, then dropping him like he's been burned. "Bullshit." Tim shrugging and running to catch up, falling into step beside him. "It's the truth." Huge Jason side-eye.) and events spiral from there.

(Vulnerable conversations. Jason: People look at me like I'm trash. Like I'm one bad day away from snapping and proving that they were right not to trust me all along. Like I don't have feelings that matter. I like that you're not scared of me. I like that you seem to fuckin'... like me. Or whatever. But I don't know how to trust it. Tim: People only want me around when they think they can get something out of me. They don't like me just what I can do for them. You've never made me feel like that. You don't give a shit about what I can do. It makes me want to-- it makes me want to give you things. To do things for you. I dunno. I guess I'm just waiting for you to tell me to fuck off and finally mean it.)

The reveals go badly. Hurt and betrayal on every side. (Turns out Tim needed the money because his mom's dead, dad's in a coma, and the family company that was supposed to keep Tim afloat has gone belly up. All of his parents' money is tied up in trusts and behind red tape. He's on his own.) Jason is pissed at Tim, but pissed at Dick especially.

The brothers fight. It's a doozy. Dick apologizes for going over Jason's head and manipulating things. Jason apologizes for being an asshole and making Dick feel like he has to be the responsible golden child 24/7, and also for punching Dick in the face. They promise to do better. Then Jason tracks Tim down to his shitty apartment (Tim had seemed super nervous the one time Jason had tried to come home with him, and now he thinks he knows why) and bangs on his door. He hasn't been to school in over a week.

They fight. It's great.

("What you did was shitty." "Yeah." "I don't forgive you for it." "...yeah." "So you better start thinking about how you're gonna fuckin' make it up to me." "Y-yeah?" "Yeah. Like fuck I'm missing prom this year when I finally have a fuckin' boyfriend.") (Now kiss)

[don't ask me how old they are/what grades they're in. i simply do not want to contemplate it. i'd call this a college au for my own sanity, but the very premise and interest in social hierarchies is just so inherently high school that it would fall apart lmfao]