#i do think it can paint people into a corner to refuse to see it more than one way

[9w1ft]

Yeah, but it's the reason why that mafioso family won't let her out of their claws...😔

i dunno i feel like maybe there are some assumptions at play in your statement that are coloring your perception a bit. i tend to think it’s a bit of a mutually assured destruction situation with cons and pros for both sides, and not as if one side is wholly in the claws of another.

[weaselle]

i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.

[sttm99]

Content warnings: swearing, making out, unedited

Prohero!Dynamight falls for the live wedding painter at his best friend's wedding

Dynamight is explosive in more ways than just his quirk.

When you see him in person for the first time whilst doing the live painting for Red Riot's wedding ceremony, he's all you see for a moment or two, and you're thankful you didn't mess up a chord at the sight of him.

His presence is overwhelming, taking up the space around him, sucking people in whilst simultaneously pushing them away.

He walks down the aisle with another pro-hero bridesmaid on his side before taking his place on the dais with the rest of the groomsmen, meters away from where you're standing before your easel.

Dynamight stands next to Chargebolt, his signature frown softer than usual as he watches his friend get married. You stare at him, eyes tracing the contours of his face as best as you can despite the distance as you work to capture his face in the painting.

He's a handsome man, you think, as you press quick strokes to his hair. When you look up again, he's staring at you, and the eye contact has your stomach dropping in a way that's not entirely unpleasant.

He looks away immediately Red Riot comes up, lightly patting his best friend's back in encouragement.

Once the music starts and the bride enters the hall, Dynamight is the last thing on your mind as you work to capture her. As you do so, you fail to notice the way he goes back to looking at you.

You set your things down at the corner of the large reception hall, beginning the second painting of the evening.

You smile softly at guests as they come to admire your work, trying your best to capture the bride's extravagant reception dress as she prances around the place gleefully.

You're focused as your work on her skirt piece, squinting as you paint across it delicately, so much so you don't notice the presence just behind you.

"You're good at this shit." You hear suddenly behind you. The voice is startling enough to draw your focus away, but not so much that you mess it up.

You glance behind you at the tall blonde male, fairly shocked at his presence. You'd assumed he wasn't the type for social interactions judging by how cold and aloof he was to most of the other guests.

"It is my job," You say as you turn back to your painting.

"I know." He walks forward, so he's beside you now, his gaze on the scene on you've done so far. "But this-" He pauses, glances at you then back ay the easel, "This is really fucking good. And you're fast. I saw the one you did at the ceremony."

You hum, a nice warmth coursing through you at the praise.

"Thank you, Dynamight." You turn to give him a small smile. Then you hold out your brush to him, "You wanna try?"

His eyes widen a bit and he quickly shakes his head. "Nah. I'll do a shit job, I promise you."

You laugh softly at how hesitant he was, but you could see the way he was eyeing the brush. "It's fine. You'll just make some strokes on the gown." You insist. "I'll guide you."

He pauses, looking straight at you as he mulls it over.

"Fine. Gimme that." He huffs as he takes the brush from you and stands closer, holding it over the board.

"Okay, so..." You hold his enclosed palm and bring the brush closer to the painting, making light strokes on the white gown of the bride.

Your eyes are on the painting, but his are on you, your face as you focus, your hand as it holds his, and a warmth begins to pool at his stomach.

"See?" You murmur with a small smile as you look back at him. Your cheeks redden just slightly when you see how he's already looking at you.

"Um... are you-"

"You should call me Bakugo," He says as he looks away from you and back at the painting. His voice is lower than before, and his disposition is less stiff.

"Oh." You just say quietly as he hands the brush back to you, unsure of what to say next.

"Now's when you tell me your name in return." He's quieter, and he's refusing to look at you.

You assume it's to hide the red you can see dusting his face.

"YN." You say to him as you take the brush back, a small smile on your face. He nods once and repeats it under his breath in a voice that almost makes you squirm.

"Is that me?" He asks quietly as he squints at a figure in one corner.

You look at it and nod. "Yep."

He hums, "And that's Soy Sauce face." He points at another figure you're sure is Cellophane. "Then Earphone Jack and the idiot. Deku, Half and Half-"

He goes on listing pro heroes by strangely accurate but offensive nicknames, and you can't help but find it incredibly funny.

He spends most of the reception with you as you paint, ignoring the weird way people look at him as he refuses to leave your side, even going as far as bringing you a plate of cake after it's been cut, and some other foods and drinks.

As the night ends and the guests leave, he's the last by your side before the newlyweds and their closer friends and family come over to see how far you've gone.

"It looks practically done," Mina says in awe.

You smile as you pack the rest of your things. "Almost. I'll have to do some finishing touches at the studio first, though. You should get them back in about a week."

They hum as they take some more looks.

Kirishima looks at Bakugo as he stands right next to your side. "You gonna follow her to the studio too?" He snorts at his friend, "Seeing as you couldn't leave her side, you might as well."

"Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair."

You laugh as you pack up the painting, "Anyways, I hope you guys had fun, and congratulations on getting married." You say as you begin to leave.

"I'll help you," Bakugo grumbles as he carries your large box of paints and brushes.

The look he gives you lets you know that he's not taking 'no' for an answer, which is how you found yourself outside the hall with him next to the car.

"Thank you, Bakugo, for the help." You say as you look up at him with a grin.

He stares you down with his regularly furrowed brows, his hands stuffed in his pocket as he thinks of what to say to keep you longer.

"Would it be inappropriate if I asked for your number?" He's so close you can smell him and it makes you feel fuzzy.

You grin. "Not at all."

He hands you his phone for you to out your number in, and as he watches you do it with your hands slightly stained with paint, he can't help but want to kiss you.

Would that be inappropriate? He's sure it will. You two just met. But still, he can't help but want to try.

Bakugo stuffs his phone back into his pockets the moment you hand it back, and he steps closer to you. His palms are sweaty, and he's trying to inconspicuously wipe them as they're stuffed in his trouser pockets.

"Would it also be inappropriate if I kissed you here?" His voice is husky as he asks and you can see the blush on his face.

He's so much different than the media paints him out to be, more awkward than mean, more aloof than nasty. But you think that maybe this persona, this Bakugo, is just for you.

You smile up at him shyly, your hands tightly clasped behind your back as you nod.

He doesn't hold your face because his palms are too sweaty. He doesn't think he can get them dry enough on time because he wants to kiss you now.

He leans forward, and you do too, and when his mouth meets yours, you're lightheaded. His lips are soft as he kisses you, and he moves them in a way that shows experience.

You smile into it, satisfied and still wanting more, and before you know it, his palms are on your waist, pulling you flush against his body and pressing his lips harder against your own.

When you pull away, his eyes are half lidded, but you can see how blown his pupils are.

"Good night, Bakugo." You whisper to him.

He pecks your cheek once before letting go, "Good night."

[mrsshabana]

𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, fluff, school au ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1k words. Got this idea from this amazing art piece I reblogged earlier today ♡

You don't belong here. Girls like you would never be caught dead in detention. With your cute pleated skirt, pastel colored cardigan, and animal plush keychains that hang from your backpack.

Now a guy like him, this is where he finds himself most afternoons. At this point Gyutaro is in detention more often than he's in class. Probably the most intimidating guy in school. If his towering height and sour attitude aren't enough to deter you, then his attire will do the trick. Always decked out in heavy punk fashion. He wears combat boots, ripped jeans, leather jackets, spiked bracelets, and not to mention copious amounts of piercings.

It's almost comical seeing the contrast as you sit next to him in detention.

The sweet scent wafting from you immediately hits his nostrils. Cupcakes...? he thinks to himself.

With a sigh Gyutaro leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and stretching out his long legs. He looks at you from the corner of his eye, watching curiously as you fold your arms and lay your head down.

He looks around the room, noticing the teacher sitting at a desk in the front of the classroom. This teacher always supervises the students in detention, and without fail, he falls asleep after ten minutes or so. Gyutaro can never seem to remember the teacher's name. He only remembers him because of the giant lump he has on his forehead.

Once the teacher falls asleep, Gyutaro reaches over to his backpack and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and a half-broken pencil.

"Pst," you hear a raspy voice whisper as someone nudges your arm. You slowly open your eyes to see a large hand with black painted nails holding a small piece of paper.

"Hm...?" you hum as you take the note.

The tall boy dressed in black who sits beside you quirks a pierced brow, waiting for you to open it.

Unfolding the small piece of paper you see something scrawled in messy handwriting, "What u do 2 get stuck in here?"

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, detention suddenly got a bit more exciting.

You pull out a Hello Kitty mechanical pencil and write, "I refused to change my skirt."

Somewhat ashamed, you hand the note back over to the boy. He quickly opens it and frowns upon reading the sentence inside. Unashamed, he immediately looks down at your skirt.

"Looks fine 2 me," he writes back.

"They said it was too short and a distraction," you blush as you admit this to him. It took a lot of courage for you to wear this skirt. Expressing yourself through your clothes has always been something you were afraid to do, always worried that people may judge you or give you disgusted looks. And when you finally got the courage to wear something you actually liked, you get shamed for it.

He scoffs and scribbles back, "They tripping. Its not 2 short. Its cute. Wear whtvr the fuck u want."

"Thanks. I think I will :3" his comment gives you some of that confidence back. He's right, you shouldn't feel ashamed about what you choose to wear and how you choose to express yourself. Besides, look at him. His outfit is probably breaking a few rules and he doesn't seem to care at all.

"Its badass u stood up for yourself cupcake."

You smile when you receive the note and read the nickname he gave you, "Cupcake?"

"Yeah. U smell like em." He scribbles a drawing of a cupcake below his sentence.

"Thanks!" you draw a little cat eating the cupcake.

In return, Gyutaro draws a spikey collar around the cat's neck and gives it a little mohawk. Seeing the cute drawing you can't help but giggle.

You briefly make eye contact, and Gyutaro has a shy smile on his face.

"Wanna get outta here?" he leans over and whispers to you, "Old man's asleep, he won't notice."

Looking over at the teacher you see him slumped over the desk, a dribble of drool dripping down his lip.

"Won't we get in trouble?" you whisper, worried about getting in even more trouble.

"Who cares, you're a bad kid now." With a smirk, Gyutaro quietly slings his backpack over his shoulder and stands to leave. When he sees you hesitate to follow him, he takes your backpack and walks out the door.

"Hey!" You whisper, internally panicking as you watch him casually leave the room with your belongings. You have no choice but to follow him now.

Even though your inner voice is telling you not to, you slip out of your seat and tip-toe toward the door. Outside you see Gyutaro leaning against the wall with your backpack in hand.

"I can't believe you did that!" you pout with a flustered face as you snatch your backpack from him.

He chuckles, "Tsk I did you a favor. Besides, it feels good right?"

"What?"

"To break the rules," he smirks, looking down at you.

You blush and look away, trying to hide your flustered expression, "kinda..."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he begins to walk down the hall knowing that you'll follow him without asking. And of course, you do just that.

"So, you got a name or you just want me to keep callin' you cupcake? I'm gonna keep sayin' it either way though," he chuckles.

"My name is Y/N... but I don't mind if you call me cupcake I guess," you mumble that last part under your breath, "What's your name by the way?"

"Gyutaro," he says. The piercings under his lip contort as he smiles.

"Well," you look up at him, "I hope we get detention together again someday."

"Oh we will, cuz I'm gonna teach you to rebel just like me!"

[personasintro]

Halloween Special | Mutual Help

A part of Mutual Help series! | photo credit

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

genre: fluff

word count: 2k+

a/n: this has no plot, basically zero storyline as well but I still hope you enjoy reading this & get more insight into their friendship! this is from the time before their deal!

“Who owns this house again?”

Can it be even called that? Where you and your friends are currently at is more like a mansion. One you barely get to see in person. The rich neighborhood and fancy cars around is enough of a clue that whoever lives in this mansion is freaking rich. It's the type you only see in movies.

“Taehyung's latest fuck.” Jimin responds, looking around the huge entry hall filled with people dressed in different costumes.

“She's not the latest.” Taehyung beside you rolls his eyes at Jimin, correcting him.

“Does she know that?” you question, met with an amused grin.

“No, why would she?” Confusion curls his features. He's wearing an orange overall, an unmistaken prisoner. “She fucks around too.”

It's not like Taehyung sleeps around with the same person. Not that you know much about his sex life, despite he's not shy to talk about it at all. He prefers to do one night stands. It's easier that way, he says.

“And she still invited you and your friends?”

He shoots you a toothy grin. “I guess she couldn't get enough of this cock.”

“Ew, what the fuck!” you exclaim, scrunching your nose as you push him away from you. Taehyung barely budges, laughing at the look of disgust on your face while Jimin rolls his eyes.

Taehyung refused to put a mask on or paint on his face. “I won't be covering this handsome face.”

That's what he told you when you first saw him. His costume is not exactly creative, but he does look good. But that's because he's already handsome and could pull off anything, not just anyone has this privilege.

“I need to look hot, chicks love this kind of costume.” You remember his voice in a cab on your way here.

As for Jimin, he chose more of a flashy costume and unlike Taehyung, he didn't mind to paint his face. Considering you've painted his face, you will take full credit for how good he looks. No need to mention you've painted it based on a picture he showed you. But still! It's your hands that created this masterpiece.

Jimin isn't one of those scary clowns wearing a big curly red wig. He has stuck to his blond hair, slicked it back while wearing what seems like an ancient blouse and pants. If he wasn't your friend, you would definitely think of him as a hot creature. The few eyes and looks your friends have managed to steal says it all.

And you?

You've had the hardest time to come up with any costume. You didn't want to spend too much money on something you wear for one night. Taehyung's ideas were all… too much.

“You should be a cat woman. You know, the one from Batman.”

One of his ideas.

“Be a sexy nurse, everyone loves that.”

It's over done a lot. Every year.

Despite not caring about Halloween parties at all – because you wouldn't come if it wasn't for Jimin and Taehyung – you wanted to look good and not wear one of those cliché costumes that people wear every year. You've seen two “nurses” already and you've been here for five minutes.

“Be a police woman. We can have matching outfits.”

But then…

“No, actually let's not do that. People are gonna think we're together and I don't want to be cockblocked that night.”

It was a nice idea but coming to a party as a police woman just wasn't the one.

“Be a witch. That would go with your personality.”

He joked and earned a slap to his shoulder.

Trying to stay true to the budget, you improvised and came up with your own costume. Okay, you might've bought a dress for this but it was on sale! Overall the costume didn't cost much. You've put some fake blood onto the dress and the corner of your lips. You're supposed to look like a bride with a spooky twist. It's not exactly original either but so far, you haven't seen anyone else dressed like this. You know you could do better if you truly wanted, get more creative. But there's also a budget you tried to stick to. Plus, you've done your make-up nicely, dark but nice.

“Alright, excuse me now, my friends. I see her and I'm gonna say hi.” He brushes past you, already shooting a wide grin toward a girl you suppose lives in this mansion.

“Do you think he's gonna fuck her again?” you ask before thinking. “Actually, don't answer that.”

Jimin laughs beside you, brushing his fingers through his hair. “I wouldn't put it past him.”

“Want a drink?”

You agree, a drink sounds nice. You don't know anyone here. Taehyung and Jimin are only people you know. And considering Taehyung just totally ditched you as soon as he saw a girl he fucked, you're left with Jimin.

“You can go too.” You make sure to tell Jimin when you make your way to the kitchen. The size of it is bigger than the place you live in.

“Don't be silly,” Jimin chuckles. “We're gonna have fun together. Tae will join us for sure later.”

You don't want to think what he's going to do until then.

“Jimin, I'm not a kid. You don't have to babysit me.”

“I'm not babysitting you,” He frowns, mixing the two of you a drink before he hands you one of the plastic cups. “There are too many people. I'm not saying it's dangerous here, but leaving you alone wouldn't sit well with me.”

You do appreciate his worry. Too bad Jungkook couldn't come. Not that spending time with Jimin and Taehyung isn't fun. But you were hoping he could join you too. You've never really attended a Halloween party before. It would be so much fun if all of you could be here.

After finishing your drink and chatting for a while, you get another one and move toward the living room where the lights are turned off, swapped for some party lights. It looks like a proper party here. There are people dancing. You and Jimin find yourself laughing at some silly costumes. You saw a banana costume and someone wearing a horse mask.

You have a good time. Someone Jimin knows joins you for a moment, one of his friends whose name you unfortunately forgot. It's not your fault though, the music is loud and you felt like an idiot to ask him again.

Jimin goes to grab you another drink, telling you to not move with a warning gaze, as if you would run away. Again, you appreciate the worry.

It's not even a minute later when some guy approaches you, obviously already in a good mood and tipsy enough to think he's the hot deal. You politely tell him to fuck off, ignoring the little scoff he gives you. You didn't come here to flirt or hook up with someone. Maybe you shouldn't scare away everyone. It's not exactly everyone though. You just don't like those types of guys who–

“Boo!”

You almost jump out of your skin and curse loudly, palm slapping against your chest as you turn around and see… a Spiderman?

You frown, guard up until the person suddenly takes off the mask and reveals your best friend.

“Jungkook?”

His hair is ruffled from the mask, a bunny grin attached to his lips as he laughs at your reaction.

“What–what are you doing here?”

He said he couldn't come because he had work. A Halloween party is not something you decline the money for, you completely understood that.

“We rescheduled the shoot,” he answers.

“But–wow. Why didn't you say you were coming?”

He grins again, cheekily adding; “Wanted to surprise you.”

You haven't seen him for two weeks or so. Everyone has been busy, Jungkook the most and last weekend you were hanging out with Jimin and Taehyung, he went on a weekend away with Kiko. They had it planned for weeks. So it's nice to see him in the flesh.

“Look at you,” he beams, staring you up and down. “A bloody bride.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “It's such a shitty costume.”

“Don't say that,” he laughs, “You look amazing.”

“I should've tried to be more creative. Just so you know, I could've nailed it. I have this costume in my mind, but I wasn't about to spend a fortune on one night.”

“Smart,” he muses. “What is this costume?”

“I'm not telling you,” you cheekily remark. “But look at you,”

Jungkook eyes himself, looking up with a smile.

His costume makes sense. You've watched Spiderman movies together (all of them) so many times. It's one of your favorite superheroes, both of you Marvel fans, but it's definitely Jungkook's favorite.

The lights aren't too bright but looking at him, you can tell his costume is not one of the cheap ones. It hugs his body perfectly, showing his figure and god–it feels sinful to look from his waist down. You can't do that. He glances behind, turning his body slightly before his attention is back to you. But it's not quick enough for you to not notice his perk ass. But then… Jungkook has always been built differently. He has worked hard for those muscles.

“Stop it,” he laughs at your words, refusing to grow shy. “Behave.”

“I'm not even gonna ask how much it cost.”

“Don't,” he assures you. “Too much for one stupid night.”

You both laugh. “You had a great opportunity to show up as a bunny.”

Jungkook playfully rolls your eyes at your comment, scrunching his nose a little. “Nah. I didn't want to be cute.”

“What vibe you were going for?” you tease.

“The hot superhero, of course.”

“God, you and Tae are the same.” you comment jokingly.

“Where is he anyway? I saw Jimin from a distance.”

“Oh, most likely having his tongue in some girl's throat I guess. Or worse.”

Jungkook laughs at the disgust you show, flicking your nose softly as you pull away. “I'm not even gonna ask.”

“Don't.” you hum, causing him to laugh. “I'm still bummed out you didn't come as a bunny though. You have a face for it.”

Jungkook throws his head back in laughter, shaking his head.

“No, I didn't mean it as an insult! You would look cute as a bunny.”

“We can do that next year. You could be a carrot.”

“Oh god, I'm shutting up now.”

He nudges you, causing you to do the same.

“Kook! Hi! You came!” Jimin joins you, hugging Jungkook right after he hands you your drink.

“Wait, you knew he's gonna come?” you ask. “And you didn't tell me?”

“Kook wanted to surprise you.” Jimin shrugs.

“Yeah, wanted to surprise you.” Jungkook muses, stealing the cup from you as he sips on it.

“Hey!”

“Shush, woman.”

You gasp. Jungkook's biceps bulge as he takes another sip of your drink. “Don't you shush me, Jeon.”

Jungkook gives you an amused smirk, turning his face back to Jimin who speaks again. “Where's Kiko?”

“Oh, she's not here. She had to stay overtime at work, too tired to come here anyway.” Jungkook answers.

“Jungkook-ah!”

Taehyung comes like a hurricane, bumping into a few people as they give him a dirty look, some of them changing their expression right after they spot him. You want to roll your eyes again.

“Let me guess, you knew too.”

“Knew what?” Taehyung asks, confused.

“He didn't.”

“Knew what?” Taehyung asks louder this time.

“That Kook is gonna come tonight.”

“Wait, you knew he's gonna come?”

“Yeah,” Jimin shrugs, “You have a big mouth. You would ruin the surprise.”

Taehyung gasps, “You guys act like it's a big secret.”

“It's not,” Jungkook laughs. “But we didn't want to take any chances.”

“Yah!” Taehyung exclaims. “Let's get drunk.” he adds more calmly.

All of you laugh, making your way to the kitchen. For the rest of the night, you hang out with your friends, savoring the moments. Even when Jimin throws up in front of the mansion in some fancy cut out bush, while Taehyung records him. You shake your head, but not be able to hide your own giggles. Jungkook does the same, holding up Jimin so he doesn't fall into the bush.

It's one of the many memories of tonight that joins the other ones you got to spend and experience with your precious friends.

[kiriiqt]

chaotic confessions

- you rush to heal tighnari in pardis dhyai, but you're met with resistance from him.

characters: tighnari x reader a/n: the new archon quest has me in utter shambles and I literally threw my headset when tighnari was struck. also I brain rotted this in my friends' dms at 3 am so I've basically just copy pasted what I wrote here. warnings: mentions of injury and hiding injuries. reader can 'heal' by taking on the pain themselves. its implied that the reader has low self worth. tighnari is ooc and this is cheesier than a mozzarella stick. no beta we die like scaras OG design soz

“Ugh…no, don’t”

The pained yell startles you and your hands drop  - the glow in your veins fading into nothing once more. Concern washes over you when Tighnari nearly rips himself away from your grasp, the sudden movement sending another stabbing sensation through his entire body. Eyes blown wide in surprise, you reach out to try and steady him but he flinches away from you once more; you hold back a wince, and shuffle further away from him on the floor.

You watch as he maneuvers himself into a more comfortable position with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut due to the pain. His chest heaves, occasionally stuttering, as he tries to breathe deeply. Seconds later, his eyes open to meet yours, only to find that you’re looking down.

You lean back and gaze at your hands sadly; faint swirls appearing under your skin, as if countless incantations were swimming through your veins. His gaze follows yours; narrowing at the sight of the foreign element painting your skin in waves, disappearing and reappearing at your will.

“Did I… do something wrong?”

Your voice comes out meek; Tighnari sighs as you refuse to meet his gaze.

“You really think I havent noticed?” He asks, and your head raises slightly at the question; eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Noticed what?”

“Your…healing, if we can even call it that… I’ve observed it for a while now out of sheer curiosity, and due to its immense capabilities, especially considering you don’t have a vision…but I noticed something was off”

Your body visibly tenses up, but no words pass your lips; Tighnari lets out a sigh and continues.

“In the action of healing others, you take on the pain yourself, don’t you?”

A somewhat awkward smile pulls at your lips, and your eyes fall shut. A decision is quickly made; there’s no point in lying to Tighnari - knowing him, he’s already got plenty of evidence to back you into a corner if he needs to.

“Ah, what gave it away?”

“I first noticed in Gandharva Ville - back when you first arrived in Sumeru, and healed a small wound for the Traveler. I thought it was odd that you seemed to be in pain, but I didn’t really care to question it, since your explanation about using a lot of energy made sense. But when it happened again… I got suspicious.”

“...you’re talking about the gash on Amir’s leg, i presume?”

“Mhm. I saw you wincing afterwards, and you were hiding a limp for a few days. You didn’t even let me take a look at it…”

Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you look away; normally, you were good at hiding the true nature of your ‘gift’, letting people believe that you just needed adequate rest. But, of course that excuse wouldn’t work for long on Tighnari.

“So no, it’s not…you haven’t done anything wrong. I can handle the pain just fine on my own, don’t worry. Like I said earlier, the wound isn’t fatal…” He pauses, steadying his breathing - talking continuously is doing a number on him, you can tell, but he’s taking it in stride. A small smile graces his face at your concerned expression, and he continues, this time softer. “…and to be honest, I don’t want to see you hurt. Not because of me, not because of anyone.” 

You suppress the urge to scoff, and roll your eyes playfully; “Oh, so you do care…” 

Tighnari clearly doesn’t find your remark as amusing as you do; his smile turns to a frown, and the sharp look in his eyes makes you want to take back what you just said.

“You… of course I care about you. Don’t ever doubt that for a second-“ he coughs again, but continues nevertheless. “-Hmph, do you even realise how relieved I was to see you rush in unceremoniously like that, unscathed?” 

“Well, I was playing a pretty intense game of tag with the weather-“ you laugh nervously, reminded of the ongoing thunderstorm outside. Tighnari scans you, his gaze landing on your right arm. His eyes narrow. 

“Yeah, and with the fatui, judging by the wound on your arm…” 

Your gaze softens. “Tighnari…” 

He sighs, exasperated - and clearly still in a lot of pain. You reach out to gently caress his face, hoping that the action will calm him down. His eyes close, and he leans into your hand, almost nuzzling it; you smile.

“Just be safe for me. That’s… that’s all I’m asking for, alright? And stop it with this self sacrificing thing you’ve got going on. Listen, I know you want to help people, and I’m by no means stopping you from doing that, but…taking risks like this is unnecessary. Don’t put your safety into jeopardy like this…” A lighting strike hits the ground right outside the entrance to the greenhouse, and Tighnari’s eyes widen briefly at the noise. His ears fall flat for a second, before he tries to straighten up again. He shakes his head as you open your mouth to speak.

“All life is important - including yours” He pauses again, gaze falling on one of the windows, before continuing with a whisper.

“…especially yours”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you look down, his words filling you with joy, more than you’d like to admit. Yet, it’s bittersweet.

Tighnari sighs when you avoid his gaze, lowering his head to chase yours. 

“Hey, look at me.”

Eventually, you glance up at him. A silent prayer leaves you, you hope that your flushed state isn’t as obvious as you feel it might be. But, judging by the small twitch of Tighnari’s lips, you’re failing pretty miserably at hiding it. He interrupts himself with another pained groan before he can comment, and you jump into action, grabbing his wrists out of reflex, concern washing over your face again. Tighnari gives you a warning glare - though his face softens quickly when you remain still.

“I mean it. You need to stay safe. Cyno, Aether, Paimon, Collei, heh, even Al Haitham needs you to stay safe. I… need you to come back safe.” He slowly pries his wrists free from your hands, grabbing them instead. Gentle thumbs rub your palms, trembling slightly as he continues; “This plan of yours is ambitious, to put it nicely…the last thing I want - or need - is for them to tell me you’re not coming back.”

Tighnari inhales suddenly, and you fear that he’s in pain again - the thought of healing him without permission briefly crosses your mind, deciding that you’d rather deal with the consequences later, until you realize that it’s not the pain from his wound this time. His voice breaks, the next words coming out meek, more so than you’ve ever heard. 

“Please, always come back. I don’t know what i’ll do if you don’t come back”

You finally meet his gaze properly, surprised to see him staring directly at you with narrowed eyes. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, though he’s trying to contain his breathing as you let his words sink in. 

“…I’m sorry, Tighnari. I… I really didn’t realize that you worry this much about me.” You whisper, gaze falling to your hands again.

He scoffs and looks away, voice still unstable.

“Hah, judging by our conversation, you probably didn’t even consider the possibility…you’re more reckless than the traveler sometimes” 

You wince, though you know you can’t argue. Tighnari sighs, leaning back against the pedestal he’s sat by. His eyes close again, the action pushing forward what seems to be a tear. Blink and you’ll miss it, and you pretend to do so - for now. 

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to…lecture you like that.” 

“Well, you’re not wrong, so…” 

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t make it alright that I’m lecturing you like you’re some…child who got lost in the forest. I must admit that communicating my feelings isn’t exactly my strong suit…seems to be a recurring theme with us scholars, huh.” 

You chuckle, knowing exactly who he’s referring to.

“I think you’ve done a pretty good job so far - only managed to enter full-blown lecture territory once, besides the odd few remarks here and there…”

Tighnari lets out what you assume is meant to be a laugh - though it’s more of a pained wheeze, followed up by another fit of coughs. You move to sit next to him, shuffling closer and leaning against the pedestal. His hand is still clutching yours as he looks towards the entrance. Another flash of lightning strikes close by, and he flinches, shrinking into himself again. You clutch his hand tighter, heart heavy at the reactions he’s clearly trying to hide.

Tighnari finally looks at you again.

“You really don’t get what I mean by that, do you?” 

You shake your head. You wouldn’t dare entertain the possibility. 

“Heh…you’re so smart, but always lack self confidence…I guess I’ll play along for-“ 

Both of your heads snap to the side when a strong flash of lightning strikes the roof of the greenhouse, the loud noise shocking you both. Tighnari clearly winces this time, and you push yourself off the pedestal, moving to sit in front of him while speaking.

“It’ll pass soon…as soon as the Balladeer realizes that the Traveler and Dehya have already gone on, hell stop the st-“ 

Tighnari gives your hand a squeeze.

“Don’t worry about me, love” 

You open your mouth to protest, but find yourself at a loss for words at the sudden nickname, accompanied by another soft smile from him. 

“Backtrack…5 seconds?” 

He suppresses another pained laugh, leaning slightly closer. 

“I just said not to worry about me, you big lummox, is your hearing really that awful? I’m willing to bet that it’s all of Paimon’s screaming…” 

In any other situation, you’d be wiping the shit-eating grin off his face with your fist (which he’d dodge, probably), but given the circumstances, all you let out is a frustrated noise and a quiet yell of “that’s not what you said”, while he leans back with another wheeze. 

“And stop laughing so much, you’re clearly in even more pain now!”

Tighnari shakes his head with a small smile. 

“Like I said - don’t worry about me, love. Worry about figuring out what I mean instead”

“You could literally be dying right now, and you want me to play guessing games?” 

“Well, we need to pass the time somehow while we wait this storm out.” 

You sigh, and feel your face flush again. You’re…quite unsure of what is going on between you and Tighnari. With everything you’ve been doing, all the stress of dealing with the sages and helping Nahida break free…you’ve hardly had time to think about it. Truthfully, it’s not worth the risk of getting your hopes up, either. The fond smiles, the banter, the way Tighnari fusses over you…you’ve always played it off as friendly affairs, even with Paimon and Aether snickering at your every conversation with him. But, you can only feign obliviousness for so long. 

You feel something soft - Tighnari’s tail - flick against your leg, as he intertwines your fingers with his. 

“Finally got it, hm?”

You’re unsure if it’s the pain and stress talking, but what you do know is that, regardless of influence, his words - and actions - are true. They hold a certain truth, a truth that brings warmth to your heart, and you can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto your face, breaking out into a grin as you nod. 

“Think so, yeah.” 

Tighnari mirrors your smile with his own; though exhaustion and pain seeps through, along with the occasional wince from the lightning, his smile holds just as much joy as yours. 

“So, always come back to me, alright?”

[queer-reader-07]

if you would allow me to be sappy on main for a moment, i think there is something so powerful in choosing to fall in love with the world and with the human story.

i can't speak for everyone, but i know that i went through a period in my life where i was nothing but cynical and nihilistic about the world. i had convinced myself that nothing mattered, that if the world fell apart before my eyes it was what we deserved.

but here's the thing, cynicism isn't sustainable. you are never going to be able to find joy in this world if you convince yourself everything sucks and there's no joy to even be found in the first place.

yeah, sometimes the world does suck. sometimes all i want to do is curl up in a corner and sob because i'm violently scared that my loved ones won't come home safe because they dared to exist as themselves in this world. i cannot put into words the levels of fear i felt for my mom's safety during 2020/2021 when anti-asian hate spiked in the US, i worried everyday that she would not come home because how dare she exist as an asian woman in this country. when anti-trans legislation started picking up steam i was, and still am, scared for the safety of myself and all the trans people i know. the world sucks sometimes, people suck sometimes. but i refuse to let myself give up.

i want to believe in beauty of the world, i want to be able to revel in the fact that we are alive, that i am alive. and that our being alive means that we can create beauty and wonder and joy.

i get to enjoy the art that people create, because oh how special is it that we create art? that i can open my phone and read beautiful words crafted by people oceans and countries away. that i can bask in the beauty of the drawings and paintings people so kindly share with the world. that i can walk into a library and be surrounded by generations of stories that i have the privilege of reading. that i can go to a concert and experience the transcendence of live music.

but i also get to experience the beauty of nature. i get to watch as the clouds turn pink on my early morning drives to school. i get to take photos of the cherry blossoms in the few weeks that they turn pink in the spring. i get to look out my car window on a clear day and see the mountain grace us with her beauty.

i am alive. we are alive. why should we waste this life wallowing in cynical despair?

i have to believe in the world. i have to believe in the human story. i have to hold onto the hope that life is worth living and that things will get better. i am reminded of that hope every time i see art that makes me feel alive, every time i read a book or a poem or a story that makes me feel like being a human is a beautiful thing, every time a song transports me into a new world. i am reminded of that hope every time i talk to my friends and am reminded of why i love them so deeply. i am reminded of that hope every time i learn something new and feel the joy of new beginnings and new experiences wash over me.

i hope. and that is a powerful thing. it is a powerful thing to hope and to love and to believe. to hope for a better world. to love the world. to believe in the world.

a friend told me recently that i love and care for humanity fiercely and gently. and i think that's the root of it all. i don't just love my people, i love people. i love the human story, i believe in the human story, i have hope for our story.

it is powerful to love and believe and hope when you exist within a society that wants to beat you down. it is powerful to love and believe and hope when you are the "other" in the social order. it is powerful to love and believe and hope when you used to think you were not worthy of those things.

it's hard to love and to hope and to believe. but i have to, for my own survival. i have to allow myself to fall in love with the world. i have to allow myself to believe. i have to allow myself to hope. because for so long i didn't allow myself those things. and i think that is a powerful thing, that i can allow myself those things now.

[fantastic-nonsense]

What are five of your favourite Grishaverse quotes? Send this ask to 5 of your favourite grishaverse blogs!

Thank you so much for sending this, and sorry it took me such a long time to get to it 😭

Choosing was super hard because there are so many insanely good quotes in the books and I love several of them for very different reasons, but I'll try and give it a go anyways. So: five of my favorite Six of Crows quotes (because I still haven't read the SaB trilogy), in no particular order:

Kaz and Inej, on getting back up after a fall:

Get it together, Brekker, he scolded himself harshly. It didn’t help. He was going to faint again, and this would all be over. Inej had once offered to teach him how to fall. “The trick is not getting knocked down,” he’d told her with a laugh. “No, Kaz,” she’d said, “the trick is in getting back up.” More Suli platitudes, but somehow even the memory of her voice helped. He was better than this. He had to be. Not just for Jordie, but for his crew. He’d brought these people here. He’d brought Inej here. It was his job to bring them out again. The trick is in getting back up. He kept her voice in his head, repeating those words, again and again, as he stripped off his boots, his clothes, and finally his gloves. -Ch. 22, Six of Crows

Matthias asking for mercy for monsters/the "we are all someone's monster" observation:

“Nina,” he said, hand still pressed over the smooth skin on his chest where a bullet wound should be. “Nina, please.” “You know they would not offer you mercy, Matthias.” “I know. I know. But let them live in shame instead.” She hesitated. “Nina, you taught me to be something better. They could be taught, too.” Nina shifted her gaze to his. Her eyes were ferocious, the deep green of forests; the pupils, dark wells. The air around her seemed to shimmer with power, as if she was alight with some secret flame. “They fear you as I once feared you,” he said. “As you once feared me. We are all someone’s monster, Nina.” -Ch. 41, Six of Crows

Wylan and Kaz's entire conversation about disability and vulnerability while cracking Van Eck's safe:

He thumbed quickly through the ledger and said, “When people see a cripple walking down the street, leaning on his cane, what do they feel?” Wylan looked away. People always did when Kaz talked about his limp, as if he didn’t know what he was or how the world saw him. “They feel pity. Now, what do they think when they see me coming?” Wylan’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “They think they’d better cross the street.” Kaz tossed the ledger back in the safe. “You’re not weak because you can’t read. You’re weak because you’re afraid of people seeing your weakness. You’re letting shame decide who you are. Help me with the painting.” They lifted the portrait back into place over the gaping hole in the safe. Martin Van Eck glared down at them. “Think on it, Wylan,” Kaz said as he straightened the frame. “It’s shame that lines my pockets, shame that keeps the Barrel teeming with fools ready to put on a mask just so they can have what they want with no one the wiser for it. We can endure all kinds of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.” -Ch. 18, Crooked Kingdom

Inej vs. Dunyasha on the Church of Barter rooftop, refusing to be cowed on her own turf:

“The blood you spill is the blood of kings,” seethed Dunyasha. “You are not fit for such a gift.” Inej almost felt sorry for her. Dunyasha really believed she was the Lantsov heir, and maybe she was. But wasn’t that what every girl dreamed? That she’d wake and find herself a princess? Or blessed with magical powers and a grand destiny? Maybe there were people who lived those lives. Maybe this girl was one of them. But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway. Inej raised a brow and slowly wiped the blood of kings on her trousers. -Ch. 35, Crooked Kingdom

And Inej at the harbor...hopeful, in love, and ready to take on the world with her boy and her ship:

Had she really thought the world didn’t change? She was a fool. The world was made of miracles, unexpected earthquakes, storms that came from nowhere and might reshape a continent. The boy beside her. The future before her. Anything was possible. -Ch. 44, Crooked Kingdom

[anndramarama]

Every time I re-watch NIF I love Mei Changsu more but like him less, if that makes sense. This time I'm more and more outraged for Jingyan, who was helped by him, that's true, but by denying him access to all of the facts MCS and everyone who did know he was Lin Shu robbed Jinyan of so much agency.

And what can Jingyan do about that? Not much. Of course he wants the case retried, and to finally be able to worship the deceased properly, which is an endgame goal they all have in common, but later? It's not like he could have refused to be emperor. And he makes that comment to MCS about not even daring to hit him let alone get into a physical fight, so you know the idea of just punching MCS in his stupid face (before he hugged him) had crossed his mind more than once.

So Jingyan is robbed of agency and painted into a corner and has to sit in the worst seat ever for the rest of his life? Personally I would have faked an illness (or my death haha, but he's too good to do that to his mom), promoted one of the nice younger princes, packed a few things and fucked off with Tingsheng to jianghu to tour around for a few years.

Lin Chen would have been right on board with that I think. I could see them ending up at Langya. Jingyan would have been delighted for the opportunity to learn a trade or set of skills that wasn't related to fighting and politics, and Lin Chen would help out by happily censoring all his news. Would they be together in that scenario? Sure, maybe, but not at first: it would take Jingyan a while to understand how to ask for what he wants and even be in a relationship, and if Lin Chen's head isn't permanently done in after more than a decade at Changsu's side I would be surprised, so it would have to sneak up on them.

But in canon Jingyan is miserable and is going to stay miserable, is the thing. The people around him seem happy and relatively content but he's trapped, like they all are, and is only able to interact with his loved ones in ways that are strictly scripted and regulated by tradition. Jingyan deserved better, but so did literally everyone else.

I haven't watched the sequels, if that's really what they are, so don't know how ominous Gao Zhan's comment about the wind rising is meant to be, but I don't think anyone in that universe was going to see a happily ever after. Which is what makes it a great drama, of course, even if a fictional universe that depends on peoples' natural tendency toward hubris and avarice and paranoia and the corruption that comes with absolute power is difficult to process at times.

Anyway. Just going through some thoughts after this rewatch. I'm not done watching it either, or writing about it. I went through some seriously old WIPs for it that never made it out of the doc but I'm not sure if I want to write for it or just stick to meta this time around. We'll see.

[bonniebird]

Caroline Forbes x Fem!Mikaelson!Reader

Requested by Anon

Make a request

Request: Anonymous asked: Could I please have an imagine where the reader is the younger twin sister of Klaus Mikaelson who also falls for Caroline Forbes. Her and Klaus end up competing to win Caroline’s heart in various ways. The reader wins her heart. Klaus is upset but gets over it because he wants his twin to be happy. Fluffy and angsty please?

Read on Wattpad

Read on AO3

The afternoon was rather peaceful. Caroline had asked you to do one of your paintings for the festival that the town had coming up and you suggested that you do a live painting. You were pleased by how excited she was and decided to head off into the woods to find ingredients for your own paints.

“This has got to stop.” Klaus said as he approached you. He had come from the woods in the dissection of the house you were all staying in. He looked rather irritated, you deduced that Elijah had gotten a hold of him. He hadn’t been overly happy when he found out that Caroline had become rather invested in your art and wanted to spend more time with you. You stopped inspecting the plants, stood, looked his way and crossed your arms. 

“Because you’re going to lose?” You asked and rolled his eyes. You continued collecting the plants you needed and turned back towards town.

“Because I always win. You get into some sort of fit. I stake you for my own safety and then Elijah is a nuisance about it for weeks.” Klaus explained. You hummed thoughtfully.

“Ah yes. For your own safety. So you admit that I am more dangerous than you?” You pressed and grinned wickedly.

“More insane than I am.” Klaus muttered.

“Oh! I believe humans think self-awareness is a sign of growth so… congrats on that.” You vanished from sight in a blur, leaving Klaus behind.

******************

“There’s (Y/N).” Caroline said excitedly. Damon and Bonnie looked in the direction that she pointed. Bonnie frowned when Damon made a strange noise.

“That? That is (Y/N) Mikaelson.” Damon said slowly. Caroline turned to him. Seeing he was being genuine she looked back over at you, then back at him. This time his face was twisted with irritation. 

“No. She would have said.” Caroline insisted. Damon tutted his tongue as he ran it over his teeth.

“Nope, that’s Klaus’ sister. Some people say she’s worse than him.” Damon muttered. You looked over their way and Damon found himself compelled to duck down behind Bonnie who laughed loudly until she felt the powerful aura coming off you and stepped back herself. The kind of laugh that refuses to be contained. 

“I’m going to talk to her.” Caroline said firmly. She caught your eye and gestured for you to follow her out to a quiet spot.

“It’s true.” You muttered. She stared at you. “What? I can hear pretty well, you know.” 

“Right… but… You didn’t say.” She said firmly and you shrugged.

“People expect me to be as bad as him so I just don’t mention it.” You answered.

 “Not exactly true.” Klaus said. You both turned and found him sitting on the corner of the high wall behind you. Shooting a glare his way you turned back to Caroline.

“Are you really going to listen to him?” You pressed. She glared at you both, turned and stormed off. “Wonderful. Now look what you’ve done.”

“I’m just making things fair.” Klaus said before he vanished the same way you had earlier.

You tried to pick your way through the crowds of people to find Carolein but couldn’t. Deciding that you would get back to your painting and talk to her the next time you saw her you resentfully settled into your workstation. You had many people coming around the stalls stopping and gawping at you as you painted. Though none of them were Caroline. When you were done you got up again and tried to find her. It wasn’t until the end of the event that you overheard her arguing with someone, pushing your way through the crowd until you reached her.

“This has all been on big trick.” Caroline snapped. You saw who she was talking to and sighed. Of course, it was Klaus. “I like your sister. I have for a while and yes her being your sister and related to you is her biggest obvious flaw but we all have some and as of yet I don’t have a way to kill you! So I’ll have to overlook it. I am not something the two of you can compete for or win. The fact that you took me telling you that I liked her as a challenge just shows me who you really are!” Caroline snapped. You cleared your throat. Caroline looked past Klaus to you and became obviously nervous. When your brother turned to you he glowered darkly. This was not going to be something that went away with time, it certainly wasn’t something that Elihah would be able to mediate.

“Sorry. Am I interrupting?” You asked with a smug smile.

Caroline tags:

@gillybear17 @ravennoore14 @the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @geekyandgay98 @savagemickey03 @evattude @kaitieskidmore1 @sashawalker2

[sweetmariihs2]

The Cedric's Apprentice magazine arrived today!! 🥳🎉

What surprises me the most it's the price. 13 brazillian reais!! This magazine today would cost arount 20 reais or more. In USA 20 reais would be around 4 dollars, which looks cheap, but 20 reais is a lot 😳 inflation yay

I don't remember how much I paid for this today anymore. As far as I remember I think it was around, idk, 15 reais? I believe it's not that expensive because it's not a coveted product, people don't want to buy it, which is in a way a little sad.

This magazine seems used, since it's in a good quality but not as good as the previous ones (they are from another seller). Because of the label, I suppose that it was in a bookstore or a magazine stand in the past, so it makes sense about being a little damaged. You can see it's damage in the corner of the pages, and they seem a little crumpled, it's also visible in the pics that I took. Imagining this still circulating in a magazine stand 10 years ago makes me emotional somehow :( I guess it's because of nostalgia. I always asked my mom to buy me activity/coloring books and sticker albums when walking through these on the street and sometimes she did buy them for me. Now they're nowhere to be seen nowadays. They were my happiness years ago, I had tons of Disney Princesses coloring books and I had an Angelina Ballerina sticker album. I miss my childhood 😭

You know the rule that I mentioned about each magazine being about one specific episode? This one didn't worked like that. Disney you really do hate Cedric, huh? (One of his two illustrations has a paint damage in his eyes. DISNEY YOU REALLY HATE CEDRIC DON'T YOU?)

The episodes mentioned were Two To Tangu (and the comic was about that episode 😭😭 nooo I want a Cedric's Apprentice comic), Cedric's Apprentice, The Amulet And The Anthem, and for some reason Cinderella is there too but in a different context (Once Upon A Princess, kinda).

That's all the Cedric content we had from this magazine

I wanted to post close ups from his art but Tumblr only supports 10 images per blog!

We have a board game that I may or may not play, but I will definitely take copies to cut, as I refuse to cut an out-of-line product. IT'S NOT PRODUCED ANYMORE!

We also had a view of some books in his bookshelf on the cover and a spell book in the board game that I have never seen in the show. The cover of this book is really cute, you have a good taste Cedric. It's a flying dragon.

These are all the images related to him!

I will definitely post all the pages scanned as soon as I put my hands on the last two magazines. Not just the Cedric pages, I'm talking about everything.

That's all folks!

[triforce-of-mischief]

You know what? I cast it back at YOU! What do you think the boys most irrational fears are? - Fire

mmmmm fear~

Time: Being grabbed from behind. If he's hugged unexpectedly then the other person will find themselves thrown into a wall/tree. This is because of Redeads. To make this a full-blown fear instead of just a minor inconvenience- Time is almost constantly on guard, imagining a body creeping towards his back, a gasp of air on his ear taking in a breath to scream... then he whirls around to find nothing.

Twilight: Fire because something something manga. I just think there's potential here- regarding even tiny candles with a wary gaze, shying away from the campfire, being overwhelmed at the strong smell of smoke...

Warriors: Becoming incapacitated and unable to fight in any way. Illness, injuries, loss of limbs... he lives in constant anticipation of the unavoidable. You would think this means that he visits the med tent often, but it is of course the opposite. Medics mean healing, recovering, sitting and doing nothing to help his brothers and people in danger. Illness and injuries may slow him down, but by Hylia they will not stop him.

Wind: Everybody says he's afraid of big birds, but you know what's way scarier than a couple of Kargoroks? Those noodly hand things that pop out of the ground, grab your face, and drag you into the unknown. The kid, much like Time, hates being grabbed unexpectedly but is terrified if somebody suddenly goes for his face. Nobody tell him about Wallmasters.

Four: Green peppers Seriously what can beat that? I haven't played Minish Cap yet so I think I'm gonna go with the beloathed produce. He turns into an absolutely feral demon when faced with an innocent green pepper, and they are the cause for his worstest of nightmares.

Wild: Jumpscares. No really, anything can set him off and nobody expects such an extreme reaction (scream, leap back, probably some tears). Out in the wild, you have to constantly be on guard for a falling boulder or a stampeding goat or a sneaky Stalmoblin about to yeet you off a cliff. And frankly, Wild has never gotten used to these.

Legend: PROJECTION CITY I see your "Lege has a million piercings" and I raise you "There's a reason why he doesn't have a single pair of earrings in canon and that reason is a fear of needles". He would like to stay very, very far away, thank you very much. He is an absolute mess when somebody forces him to get his wounds stitched and requires a task force of at least 3.

Hyrule: Big crowds. The poor thing gets overstimulated, overwhelmed, and just shuts down in the busiest of Castle Town markets. Goddess forbid the others leave him behind or send him on his own.

Sky: Underground tunnels. They're dark, tight, and you never know what's around the corner (probably a giant centipede or an approaching wall of lava). He can barely move in the first place, and under stress he gets his directions mixed up and starts to hyperventilate which is Very Bad for an enclosed space.

Ravio: Paintings. Yuga threatened to turn him into one if he wasn't a good little bunny. Ravio was actually immensely relieved to be rid of the bracelet just in case he accidentally activated it one day and couldn't figure out how to escape. Now every painting featuring a person freaks him out and he refuses to let any decorate his Link's house.

[antigone-ks]

Spoils of the Avvar

Summary:

After visiting the Avvar, Quiz shyly admits to Cullen that she'd like to see him in nothing but his furry mantle and a loincloth. He opts to surprise her with a full-throttle, bride-stealing Avvar roleplay one night.

Originally written for dragonage_kink, 2015

Warnings: consensual dub-con roleplay

Tags: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan; Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford; 

Roleplay; Sexual Roleplay; Virginity Roleplay; Explicit Sexual Content; Established Relationship; Avvar Cullen; Sexual Fantasy; Roleplaying dubious consent;  But not actual dubious consent; Furry Mantle fetish; Cullen is game for anything apparently; really cliched speech; sex is better with barbarians; Oral Sex; some people are better at roleplaying than others; dominant cullen; 

Chapter One

“They’ve read his books?” Josephine looked delighted.

“Well, one of them has,” Evelyn said, grinning. “He only mentioned Hard in Hightown, though. Nothing about . . . the others.”

“They’d hardly need something like Swords and Shields, though, would they?” Josephine asked. “Somehow the Avvar have always seemed so, so naturally bodice-ripping.” The women ignored the sotto voce “Maker’s breath . . .” from the other side of the war table.

“There is more to romance than tearing off one’s clothes,” Cassandra objected. “And they wear so much fur, it cannot be easily done.”

“Oh, the Avvar understand romance, Cassandra,” Leliana replied, a little smile dancing at the corners of her mouth. “There may be less bodice-ripping, but there’s enough dashing warriors and swooning maidens and bride-stealing in any good Avvar tale to satisfy even you.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

“I can picture the dashing warriors,” Evelyn said, thoughtful, “they’re all very tall, and their weapons are massive; I – “ she broke off at a choked sound from the final advisor.

“Can we decide on a strategy for this issue, or should we table the discussion?” Cullen asked, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he refused to meet anyone’s eyes.

Leliana turned to the door. “Some scouts have recently returned; I’ll see if they have new information. Josie, find out if we have anything useful to trade. They do enjoy Orlesian spices; it could open another door for us.”

Evelyn leaned against the war table as the three women filed out, Cullen fiddling with one of the map-markers. He looked up suddenly as the door shut. “Massive weapons?” he grinned. “How did you see any of their weapons?”

“Well, they wear them right out in the open. Big hammers. Swords made for just the right sheath.” She smirked at him. “Your ears are red.”

“You’ve been gone for two bloody weeks, and before you even say hello you’re talking about hammers and, and bodices. And ripping bodices.” His arm snaked around her as he bent his head. “I never knew you had such a filthy mind,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers.

“I missed you,” she whispered against his lips, when at last they parted.

“Surrounded by dashing Avvar warriors, and you thought of me?” His lips traced a path down her neck as he slid a steadying arm around her waist.

“I thought of you a lot,” she confessed, sighing against his cheek. “Especially you in your furry mantle. Sometimes in nothing else.”

His warm breath huffed against her neck as he chuckled. “What, really?” She made an affirmative sound and he straightened, looking into her eyes. “Just the coat?”

“And maybe a loincloth. Sometimes paint.”

“I only wear loincloths on very special occasions.”

“We could go to my chambers and see how special today is . . .”

The blare of a horn signaled the return of Bull’s Chargers from their latest task. Evelyn sighed. They would want to debrief as soon as possible and move on to their celebratory drinking. “I think we’ll need to make it special very quickly.”

Chapter Two

The water hit her aching muscles, almost too hot to bear but instantly relaxing her. The scent of crushed embrium filled the steamy air, and Evelyn leaned back against the tub. Another long journey, nearly a month this time. A month of cold splashing baths and no tea and no Cullen.

Still no Cullen. He’d stood beside her at the war table as she gave her report, his fingers brushing against hers (quite brazenly, she’d thought, which was unlike him when he was on-duty), and hadn’t done more than murmur “that sounds like a good idea” when she’d mentioned going to the baths. She’d rather hoped he’d join her, but she was turning red and wrinkly and there was still no sign of him. Sighing, she wrapped a robe around herself and headed toward her chambers, hoping it was late enough to shortcut across the Great Hall without being noticed.

The Hall was utterly empty; not even Varric sat by the fire. Evelyn stared down the length of the room, a tense feeling creeping over her. Even in the evenings Vivienne would often be up researching and crafting, usually – if it wasn’t too late – with a young courtier dancing attendance on her. But all was still, as if the world held its breath.

Unsettled, she pushed open the door to her corridor and closed it decidedly behind her. A prickling feeling at the back of her neck made her spin around, peering into the shadows. Her heart pounded painfully as she heard a breath, a movement, a –

“Cullen?” She collapsed against the door, pressing a hand to her chest. “Andraste’s flaming hairy damned . . . things, why are you lurking in the dark?”

“I was waiting for you, lady.” His voice was different, deeper, darker, with an edge and an accent not his own.

Evelyn pulled her robe tighter and tried to look indignant. “I . . . I waited for you, in the baths.”

“Your men might have seen me, lady. I couldn’t let myself be thwarted beforetimes.”

“Um.” He stepped out of the shadows, the pale light from the windows shining on his hair, twinkling off the hilt of the sword strapped to his back. Strapped to his back? He wore it at his side. She’d made him choke on a frilly cake once, running her fingers over the pommel during an endless meeting with nobles. But now he had it – the sheath was – her cheeks flamed almost painfully as she realized that his sheath was missing because his trousers were missing because he wasn’t wearing trousers because he was naked – blessed Andraste, was that a loincloth? – under his mantle. His furry. His mantle. The mantle with the fur. The furry mantle she wanted to see him in and nothing but a loincloth and

“Paint?” she asked tentatively.

The light struck the side of his face and she saw swirling kohl markings down his cheek, around his eye. He looked wild, and dangerous, and somehow bigger than usual and oh, Maker, he moved like a prowling lion as he approached. If she pressed any closer to the door she’d leave an Inquisitor-shaped hole in it, and anyway this was Cullen, and she’d asked for this. Something like this, anyway.

His breath whispered across her face, his eyes hooded as she looked up at him. “Is this for me?” she murmured.

“I would do anything for you, lady.” His body pressed against hers, his hands sliding to her waist. “Let me claim you. Let me have you.” Her breath hitched as his lips traced the shell of her ear. “Submit to me, my pretty lowland maid.”

Evelyn felt giggles, unbidden, threatened to erupt from her throat. It wasn’t funny, she wasn’t amused, she was – she was nervous, just as if this were real. Well, two could play at this game.

Wriggling ineffectively, she threw her head back (a bit too hard, it bonked against the door and Cullen winced for her) and exclaimed “owOh, oh no ser, no! I must not!”

Even in the dimness, she could see his grin. His hold tightened. “Don’t fight me, lass. You shall be mine.”

“Unhand me, you barbarian!” His mouth twitched, then he swooped down and claimed hers. His lips, usually so soft, were hard against hers, demanding. He pulled her body tight against his, his muscled thigh slipping between hers. She mewled against his mouth as he rocked them together.

“Barbarian, am I?” he growled, tangling his hand in her hair. “A barbarian would take you here, against this wall, and let your people hear you scream. Let the men who want you hear your pleasure and know that a barbarian has given it to you.” Stooping, he swept her up into his arms. “I am no barbarian, lady. You will beg me lay claim to you.”

He started toward her chambers, stopping at the first flight of steps to rearrange her weight while she tapped her fists against his chest, protesting quietly. “No, you mustn’t! Let me go! Put me down – No, really, Cullen, put me down, these stairs are tricky.”

Setting her down, he looked momentarily stymied, then – “Will you walk to your fate, lass, or must I force you?”

“I needn’t be carried like a babe, ser. But, but you will not have me, brute!” she flung at him, marching up the stairs. As he followed, Evelyn was certain she heard him snickering.

Chapter Three

The fire was blazing, furs were piled into a nest before the hearth, and Evelyn took a moment to appreciate how much effort Cullen had put into this night. She gazed at him warmly as he approached, skin golden in the firelight. He smiled lopsidedly and reached for her, brushing the hair from her face and gently pressing his lips to hers.

“All that I have is yours, lady.” Cullen leaned his forehead against hers, eyes softening for an instant, before turning predatory. “If I may have all that is yours.”

“I have nothing, ser,” Evelyn said, looking down modestly.

He pulled her closer, provoking a gasp as his hardness pressed against her stomach. “No, lass, you have everything I desire.” One finger traced the line of her throat down, down, following the edge of her robe and dipping between her breasts. Evelyn squeaked and pushed at him, drawing a grin as he held her tight.

“I warned you not to fight.” Cullen’s smile turned hungry. Evelyn had only a moment to brace herself before his leg swept behind hers and he bore her to the ground atop the furs. His body radiated heat, and the scent of him, the warmth of the mantle cocooning them, made her feel as if the world had disappeared and there was nothing left but the two of them. She craved the caress of his naked skin against hers, the slick of their sweat as they moved together. Her legs parted, cradling him in the center of her being. His eyes glazed as the heat of her brushed his still-covered cock.

Pinning her wrists in one large, calloused hand, Cullen raised himself enough to force open the robe. “Conquering you will be so sweet,” he murmured, cupping her breast with his free hand. She arched beneath him as he flicked his thumb against her nipple, her cry swallowed by a punishing kiss. Trapped beneath him, she could do no more than gasp when his mouth followed his hand, suckling at her, nipping and teasing. Pleasure arced through her veins and she struggled against him, needing to touch him, to stroke him, to pleasure him as well as he did her.

“Please . . . please, Cullen-“ she gasped, and he released her, lifting her enough to pull the robe from her body. Evelyn wrapped her arms around him, fingers running through the fur at his neck and up into his hair. Her lips sought his, and she felt him tremble and for a moment thought the games were over and he would take her then, hard and needful.

Instead he nuzzled at her neck, seeking that sensitive spot below her ear, murmuring softly as he unwound her arms and laid her back into the nest. The fur beneath her was soft, smooth against her bare skin. She wanted to writhe against it, against the fur and against him, trapped between them until she could feel nothing else. She reached for him as he leaned over her and he caught her hand, brought it to his mouth.

“Lowlander,” he whispered, her pulse jumping as his lips brushed over her wrist. “Open yourself to me.” He kissed the tip of each finger, then guided her hand down his chest and lower, lower to the straining hardness still hidden in the loincloth. “You see that I need you. Let me give us both pleasure, my sweet maiden.”

“Ser, I cannot.” Evelyn gazed at him through her lashes, schooling her face into what she hoped was a wide-eyed innocence (but feared was just simple-minded). She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. “Please, ser. My maidenhead is all that I have, and it belongs to my husband.”

She wasn’t sure how he would react – was it too much? – but she got her answer when Cullen ground against her, eyes black with desire. He was so hard, and he knew exactly where she was most needy. She gasped and arched beneath him as he thrust again, then loomed over her.

“Your maidenhead,” he scoffed. “You writhe like a cat in heat, lass; you’re ready to be taken. You need it. And,” he lowered himself until his weight pressed her into the furs, his lips against her ear, “when I’m inside you, you’ll call me husband.”

How could something so staid and . . . and socially acceptable sound so unimaginably filthy? Evelyn whimpered and bucked helplessly against him as he sucked and bit at her neck, his hands leaving trails of fire as they roamed her skin, cupping her breast gently, then giving a bold squeeze. He swallowed her gasp, stole her breath with his kiss, and descended lower. He stroked the tender flesh of her thigh, watching her face with heavy-lidded eyes. As his fingers brushed through her curls, Evelyn gasped and reached for him.

At once, he gripped her wrist. “Be still, lass,” he whispered. “Let me please you.” She pulled against his grip, twisting against his strength, needing to touch him, to stroke his hair, to show him how very much he did please, but she could not break free. “I said lie still,” he said, his voice harsh. “Else I will bind you, and you will be at my mercy. Do you want that?”

“Oh Maker, yes,” she whispered. “But not now.”

“Not now,” he agreed. “Later, I’m going to fuck the air from your lungs. But for now,” he kissed the back of her hand, “be my good girl and let me love you.”

“Yes, ser,” she breathed, as he dropped her hand and slid both of his along the crease of her thighs, cupping her mound between them. He pressed a kiss, almost chastely, to her plump mons, then his thumbs parted her lips and he gently kissed her hooded pearl. Evelyn held her breath, held herself still, as his breath ghosted over her, his thumbs stroking along her lips. If she’d thought herself wet before, it was nothing compared to the moisture gathering as he toyed with her. He kissed her again, and she sobbed in need.

“Like a cat,” he whispered against her, so softly she didn’t hear it, couldn’t hear it, but she felt it crawl inside her skin, sparking against her nerves and setting her aflame.

“Please. Please, ser.”

“Please what, darling?” He kissed her again, just a touch of his lips to her, and her thighs quivered.

“Please kiss me there,” she whimpered, lifting her hips to show him.

Cullen chuckled. “I am kissing you there. Do you want more?” Before she could respond, he licked a long line up the seam of her lips, dipping deeper to flick against her clit, and she wailed.

“Yes, yes, Maker, yes please pleasepleaseCullen!”

He buried his face between her thighs and devoured her. His lips closed around her clit and he sucked, hard, as his long fingers teased her entrance, opening her gently. The contrast made her writhe. Evelyn covered her face with her hands as he stroked her slowly, invading her patiently, inexorably.

Cullen pulled his mouth from her with a gasp. “Maker’s breath, you’re so wet,” he said, sounding awed. “You’re dripping.” His finger curled inside her, and she mewled as he added another, sliding in a little more quickly, curling to match the other. His thumb pressed against her nub, the tips of his fingers found that perfect spot, and as he lowered his mouth to her again Evelyn sent up a prayer of thanks for this man and his hands. And his mouth. And his – and his – his hand thrust harder, his tongue flicked against her, and suddenly she was bucking and shaking, sounds like a trapped animal coming from her mouth. Cullen pushed her through it, not stopping until she twisted away and closed her legs. He chuckled as her thighs trapped his hand; he cupped her gently and let her ride him until the final throes dissipated.

Chapter Four

A warm drowsiness spread through her, limbs too heavy to move. Her eyes blinked slowly at the shadows on the ceiling, hazy and sinuous. Cullen gathered her into his arms, nuzzling her ear, his lips moving slowly along her neck. She could easily fall into sleep in this moment. She might, actually. It would take huge incentive to keep her awake. She shifted against Cullen.

Ah, there it was.

Evelyn cuddled close and rocked her hips, smiling lazily at his hiss. “Oh, ser, what have you done to me? I have thrown away all modesty for the sake of a few kisses!”

She felt his lips press against her temple. “Sweet maid,” he murmured, voice achingly low, “how can modesty stand against such delights of the flesh?” He seized her thigh, pulling it up over his hip, rocking hard against her. A bolt of pleasure shot down to her toes, and she gasped. His thumb caressed her lower lip. “And now you shall show me the same delights.”

Evelyn gasped theatrically, as heat spread through her body. “I cannot!”

Cullen smirked at her. “You don’t fight like an outraged maiden any longer, lass. Do not speak like one.”

Evelyn jerked out of his grasp and sat up, drawing a fur close around her body. “How dare you! It’s not my fault that a barbarian has kidnapped me and ravished me – “

“I haven’t ravished you yet.”

“ – threatened to ravish me, and made me feel such unmaidenly things – “

“And squeal such unmaidenly things.” Cullen was grinning outright, his grin, not his Avvar-predator smirk. Evelyn leaned forward, pecked her lips against his scar, and gave him a shove. It was like pushing a boulder.

“You beast!”

She surged upward, almost reaching the stairs before he caught her in his unyielding arms, pulling her tight against his chest. “Unhand me, or I will call the guards!”

“Do you want them to see your shame, lass?” He tugged the fur loose, baring her to the cool night air. Her nipples hardened, her skin flushed. “I will have you. I do not care who sees.”

“I could have you here where we stand,” he whispered, his hands moving down her body. He thrust against her, his heart thumping unsteadily against her back. “Would you like that, sweet? Do you want me to mount you, here, like a stallion covers a mare?”

Oh, Maker’s fucking breath yes.

Maker, he was still clothed. Well, still loinclothed. And furred.

His hand slipped between her legs, through the dampness that lingered, and parted her folds with an obscene sound. “That is no way for a maiden to be claimed, but I will do it unless you yield to me.”

Evelyn shook her head, gasping as his fingers drew circles around her bud. His other hand pressed against her back, gently but inexorably bearing her down against the railing. She rested her cheek on the cool stone and rocked against him, against his hand and against the thick weight that thrust against her core. He could almost push into her, just enough to make her thighs tremble and head swirl, and her breath caught on a sob when he removed his hand from her and pulled away.

“Cullen. Cullen, please,” she whispered as he caressed her back. “I need you. Maker, please fuck me.”

A rustle of cloth, and his cock slipped between her folds. Evelyn braced herself to push back against him, to take him deep, but he held her in place with more control than she’d known he possessed.

“Sweetheart, if you do what you’re thinking our evening will be over far too soon for my pride to bear.”

Her answering chuckle turned into a groan as he thrust so very slowly into her, shallowly as he would a true maiden. He was so careful with her, so gentle she felt overwhelmed with it, overwhelmed with the fullness of him moving inside her and with the fullness in her heart. He stroked her tenderly, running his fingers through her hair, whispering soothingly to her, until at last he was buried completely inside her. Bending over her, Cullen kissed her shoulders, her back, the hair at the base of her neck.

“Cull . . .” her voice choked off, unable to squeeze past the feeling of her heart lodged in her throat.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his own voice thick. “Darling. Evelyn.”

At last he moved, pulling back until he lay just within her, thrusting forward slowly until the tip of him touched her womb, repeating until she writhed beneath him. She felt him smile against her shoulder.

“Lass, are you ready?”

“Oh yes . . . yes.” Evelyn braced herself as he straightened and began to move in earnest, his hips beating out a quick rhythm against her buttocks that matched the pulsing in her blood. She began to arch against him, and his hands pressed her down again, against the railing, holding her a still vessel for his lust.

“That’s it, sweet, take me deep, let me fill you, let me – ah – let me have you,” his voice broke and he gasped, hips stuttering. Evelyn gripped the railing and pushed back, forcing him deeper, to the barest instant of pain. Her breath came in sharp staccato moans, her cunt aching with need. She was so close, Maker, give her only a moment more and she’d –

She jumped as his hand swatted across her backside, then squealed in outrage as he withdrew from her.

“I did warn you,” Cullen said, more teasing than reproachful.

“You absolute bastard,” she hissed, turning on him. He laughed and caught her hands, pulling her against him and capturing her mouth with his.

He spun them toward the bench that rested by the railing and sat, pulling her into his lap, guiding her legs to cradle him, his cock nudging her entrance. “I need you like his,” he whispered against her lips. “Need to hold you.” She shifted against him and took him inside, took him fully as he took her mouth again. “Need to see your face as you come apart on my cock.”

His hands fell to her hips and lifted her, guided her, settled her into a rhythm that had them both crying out. His hot breath ghosted across her breasts, his mouth suckling her until she arched back, running her hands through his golden curls to hold him against her. She had no words now, only mindless mewls that fell from her lips with every thrust of his hips. One arm wrapped around her hips, moving her quickly; the other hand slipped between them. At the press of his thumb against her bud, Evelyn hissed and Cullen raised his head to look in her eyes.

“Look at me,” he ordered, pulling her hips down hard. “Look. At. Me. I need – “

Her body quaked.

She saw only his amber eyes,

felt her cunt clench,

heard an animal moan,

(is it me? Is that me?)

felt warmth filling her,

bathing her core.

When at last she returned to her body, her own body, the body on Thedas and not in some desire demon-wracked corner of the fade, her head lay against Cullen’s chest, his heart pounding in her ears.

She smiled and cuddled closer. “That was the nicest welcome-home-from-a-bog gift anyone has ever given me.”

“I certainly hope so.” His voice was rough and breathless, his lips soft as they grazed her forehead. “I’ll carry you to bed in a moment. Or, no, we need to. Um.”

Maker’s breath, that he could blush after what he’d just done to her.

“We need to clean the barbarian seed from my freshly-ravished thighs?” Cullen made a noise, half-laughing, half-choking.

“Just so, my pretty lowland maid.”

[olivyh]

Since you accept reqs for your aus....

How would villain kalim react to an mc who can see through his happy go lucky facade?

You can choose 1 or both routes:

An mc who actively tries to expose him

Or....

An mc who actively tries to help Jamil!

YESYESYESYES

I honestly forget about my villain!Kalim au sometimes, even if there's so much to work with. It's still one of my favorites, though!

Villain!Kalim:

-He did everything in his power to keep up his facade

-He was everything that he taught himself to be, everything that his father was, everything that would make the people of his homeland love and adore him

-It had worked for his entire life. Of course, when he was younger he didn't understand the poisonous power that his kindness could hold. He was merciless-cruel, even.

-But he changed. He put on a smile, acted as though he was innocent and he couldn't do any wrong.

-Even at NRC, Kalim was known as the sunshine of the school. Always bubbly, talkative, more than willing to help everyone out. He was so generous, so willing to throw everything to the side in the name of supporting someone who he knows may very well be taking advantage of him.

-Even including the poor, magicless prefect

-At first he believes that he had them as wrapped around his finger as the rest of the school, someone he could use to defend himself and who would stand up for him when he uses those crocodile tears to get his way

-Kalim saw the way they looked at him when Jamil overblotted, as though they were looking through him and his fake tears as he stared at Jamil in a way that he knew would have made the servant tremble as he had when he was a child.

"Nobody will ever believe you-" You heard quietly from behind you, turning to see Kalim skipping up to you playfully, slipping on the sand of the dunes as you stare at him, eyebrows knitted on your forehead.

"Prefect? What's wrong?" He chirps. You turn to see Jamil, staring at the two of you with an indiscernible expression painted on his sharp features, eyebrows knitted on his forehead as his mouth lays partly open. He notices your gaze and turns away.

"What did you just say to Jamil?" You ask quietly. You had thought it was suspicious that Jamil, someone who was always so in tune with his emotions, who was so thoroughly in control of everything all the time could just... snap. At first you believed that it was the stress he was under, as well as his past. But after hearing what Kalim said...

You look up at the white-haired boy's face and see how strained his smile has become, how his eyes seemed to narrow in your direction. You feel a chill creep up your spine as you turn to the rest of the group, noticing how Floyd looks between the two of you curiously, the corners of his mouth turning down as he walks backwards, face contorting into his familiar goofy grin.

"Whatcha talkin' about?"

"Nothing!" Kalim chirps, smiling and skipping along with the rest of the group. You sigh and continue the trek back to the dorm, trying to ignore the gaze of the eel as he pokes and prods at your back, practically begging for you to spill everything that you'd been thinking about.

-And when you actively try to help Jamil? Even if it's little things such as cleaning or cooking, Kalim would do everything in his power to keep you away from him. He's not above putting even more work onto Jamil's shoulders and then pulling you away so you can't help under the guise of needing help with his studies.

-But even as he pleads, gives you puppy eyes and spoils you with jewels and riches worth beyond anything that you could imagine... you still refuse him, lightly pushing him away

-He decides to step things up a bit, walking around with tears in his eyes and sniffling. Everyone asks him what's wrong, and he, of course tells them everything about you turning him away. How could you be so mean? He was nothing but kind to you...

-Before you know it, even your own friends are asking for you to deal with him as much as you can, baffled at how your normally kind personality is suddenly gone when dealing with the bubbly heir

-You become socially ostracized, crammed into the same corner that Jamil was after his overblot. Forced to eat alone as Kalim pays off your friends and spoils them as a reward for staying away from you...

-It pains them to do this to you... but if you can do this to Kalim, who has been nothing but kind and giving towards you, you could do much worse to them (as Kalim hinted during one of his cry sessions, surrounded by the other students)

-ADeuce might stick around more, as with Grim. I also feel like the Octatrio would know what was going on (If not all of them... then Floyd would.) Kalim can't hurt the Leeches due to their family also being influential in the Coral Sea, so the two of them are safe.

-But the vast majority of NRC would be against you

It was one mistake. Just one. You had been talking to Jamil, alone in his room, trying to find a way to help him as much as you can.

"You need to leave," You practically beg him.

"Leave?" Jamil scoffs. "If it were that easy, I would be gone by now." He sits back on his bed, running his hands through his now unstyled hair and frowning, allowing his stone-grey eyes to fall closed. "It's not possible."

"I-it's not?"

"He has everything. I may be able to outsmart him, yes. It's not that difficult... for the most part," He takes a breath. "But he's richer than either of us can imagine, and he has the people on his side. He would be able to find me in an instant, not to mention the possibility of someone else ratting me out and sending me back to him.

"There has to be some sort of way-!"

Jamil frowns, sitting up and staring at you with an expression that was equal parts annoyed and... exhausted. You could see how badly he wanted to leave, the longing that swam in his normally cold and apathetic eyes.

"The only way would be if he gave me to someone else... and if that person decided to set me free," The boy's shoulders sink in defeat. "There's no way he would let me go. And if I asked there's no telling what he would do to my family."

"Come home with me." You stand, suddenly determined. "The second I can find a way back to my world... grab your family, and come with me. He can't find you all there."

"I-" He knits his eyebrows. "That could work, yes..."

"Then let's do it," Jamil nods.

"I-" He takes a breath. "I'm just going to take my sister. My parents wouldn't leave."

"You..." You take a tentative pause. "You should tell her, so she's not surprised." He nods, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the nightstand, dialing the girl's number and disappearing into his room's bathroom as a tired voice sounds from the speaker.

Little did you know that Kalim was listening to your every word, despite having checked to make sure that he was absolutely asleep and creeping to Jamil's room, keeping your conversation as quiet as possible.

"How could you?" You ask the heir one night after a party, cornering him in his room as your fists shake at your sides and your eyes glisten with tears that threaten to spill. "Why would you do this?" Just moments prior, Jamil had admitted to everything that Kalim had been doing to the both of you- his manipulation of your friends and the reasoning behind your sudden drop in popularity matched with everything that Jamil had to face when dealing with the boy. You had agreed to take him and his sister back to your homeworld. How did it all go so wrong?

"Do what?" He asks, tilting his head slightly, wide red eyes looking up at you as though you were a lost puppy and not a master manipulator of some six hundred students.

"Y-you... turned everyone against me!" You groan and begin to pace angrily, avoiding looking at the boy in fear of the waves of wrath that you know would pull you down. "You sent Jamil and his sister away from each other and their family!"

Kalim pouts, eyes welling with tears as he sniffles. "Why would you say such a thing?" He wipes his eyes with his sleeves, curling in on himself and shaking. "I could never... you were just so-so mean to me! A-and Jamil asked me to! He said it would make them happy!"

You gape at him wordlessly, jaw hanging open. "H-happy?!" You practically growl. "You stole them from their home! Jamil worked his ass off to get into NRC and you just-"

"Prefect," Another voice sounds from the doorway. "Enough."

"Ace!" You turn. "Are you hearing this?"

"Hearing you interrogate Kalim?" The redhead scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Duh. I thought everyone was fucking around when I heard the rumors, but now..." Your heart sinks as you stare silently at your friend, eyebrows knitted on your forehead. Kalim whines softly and looks away, biting his lip and wiping his eyes again, chuckling under his breath.

"It's okay! Really! Just a little m-miscommunication!" He grins and bounces up to Ace, smiling brightly as Ace looks at him, and then back to you, face painted in disbelief.

"Dude, Jamil can make his own decisions. I dunno why you felt like you have to protect him all the time," Ace rolls his eyes, leaving the room with Kalim in tow as you stand silently, tears racing down your cheeks. Your face burns in anger and embarrassment as you stare at the door, chest heaving with labored breaths that do little to help the storm raging in your mind.

You silently walk out of the room, ignoring the burning stares of the Scarabia students as you walk towards the mirror chamber, mind racing as determination and defeat are pumped into your bloodstream. You were going to take the dorm leader down, even if it killed you.

[jekyllnahyena]

Fox. You deserve the world. 

(me normally: I love their idiot friendship >:D

me rn: their friendship is so important to me aight ;-;)

I.D under the cut. 

[I.D. It’s a eight page comic featuring Riyo Chuchi and commander Fox from star wars. 

The first panel shows them both sitting at a desk, working. Riyo is wearing a dark red jumpsuit with two ponytails . Fox is wearing a dark red turtleneck and black pants. She has several facial scras and her hair is streaked with grey. Both look exhausted. Beneath it is a close up of Fox’ eyes, dropping under exhaustion. Benath that is Riyo’s outretched hand, offering Fox a mug. She first wants to refuse, saying ‘I don’t’ but she’s cut off by Riyo, who calls her name.

the second panel has Riyo from the bust up in the left, upper corner, looking concerned and a close up of Fox’ chin in the right, upper corner. Riyo says: ‘Please. I know you consume all you need with your nutrition cubes. But this will warm you up.’ In the lower middle of the panel is Fox from the chest up, drinking the tea. She says: ‘It’s good.’ Riyo responds: ‘I’m happy to hear that. It’s my papa’s favorite tea and he sent me a package.’

The third panel shows a close up of Riyo’s eyes in the left, upper corner, looking even more concerned as she asks: ‘Why do you keep doing this? Refusing all help? Thorn is getting more anxious by the day. All of them are’ In the right middle is Fox head, cut off at the middle as she holds the mug. Her scars are highlited with red. In the lower middle of the painting is a close up of the mug, her eyes reflected in the brown-orange tea. She responds: ’I’m the best there is at this. I may hate it, but I’m good at it. Perfect almost. I know how to talk, how to act, how to stand and smile. I can take it. I can’t- can’t expect the rest to do that. I don’t want them to.’

The fourth panel has Riyo in profile sitting in the left upper corner, now holding onto her own mug, her eyebrows drawn together. She say: ’Fox. You’re suffering under this. And we- they see it. But you’re so determinded to do this alone, to carry it all on only your back. You barely think of the possibilty that you don’t have to. In the lower middle of the panel are only Fox’ eyes and her scars, seeminly staring at Riyo. She says: ‘Ironic that you’re the one saying that.’

The fifth panel has Riyo in the upper middle from the chest up. Her left side is shadowed. On the left side is the text ‘I chose this job. I’m prepared to face all it’s consequences.’ On her right side it continues with ‘But you. Others are here for you. On the right, lower side is a close up of Fox profile as she asks: ‘What is this? A therapy session.’ Riyo’s profile is one the right side, her tattos highlighted in pink as she responds: ‘No, but I have one of those and go to her weekly. I’m stealing all her best moves at this point.’ Both are smiling, slightly sardonically.

The sixth panel shows a close up of Riyo’s eyes in the left, upper corner, looking down. Fox asks off-screen: ‘Why did you? Chose it I mean?’ In the lower middle is Riyo holding onto her mug, her tattos reflected in the tea. She responds: ‘I went to my first demonstration when my dads still had to hold my hands. They aren’t exactly happy that I decided to do this, but they’ve always supported me. If you want it short, for my peopl. I thought this was the best way to do this. I love Pantora more than anything and I want to see her live through this war. So here I am. Just that it’s not only, is it?’

The seventh panel has both the bust of Fox on the right side and Riyo on the left. Fox is looking at Riyo as she’s looking down. Fox responds to her words: ‘It isn’t.... I guess we’re similiar in that aspect though. We both do it for the love of our people.’ Riyo answers: ‘It seems like it, doesn’t it? But Fox, don’t do it alone, please. Because your people? They love you so much and just as fiercely. You know this already. Just.’

The eight panel shows what Riyo was looking at. She has gently taken ahold of Fox scarred hands and it’s a close up of the hold. She continues: ‘Please let them.’ End I.D]

right, small explanation. This is all part of the weird Fox-kills-palps-au. Fox and Riyo are planning a coup at this point and Fox refuses to tell any of his siblings. She doesn’t want to risk them but doesn’t really care for her life if it means giving the rest a chance. As she is under no such personal obligation to Riyo, she doesn’t really care about it. Both are going down if this goes out at this point and Fox can watch Riyo burn, but never her vode. A weird friendship comes out of the situation and Fox indeed ends up murdering Palps and Riyo ends up as the galaxies hero’ lawyer and they somehow save a lot of people as they fuck about, working on their last caf and spite fueled braincells. It’s also where Fox ends up with her peacock and all of palps money and estates and lightsaber that she ses as a paperweight btw. Technically just a fun au created by my desire to see technically human people beat the Big Bad instead of it being lead by the force and jedi cause fuck fate. This is just one, a lot more serious look of what this technically entails and how Riyo comes to learn just how much Fox destroys herself. Fox has a lot of personal demons she battles against but doesn’t want her vode to see or talk about because she needs to be strong and protect them. It’s all a very dangerous spiral. No worries, she gets better and later lets her pet peacock loose in the senate for funsies :)  

[alluralater]

Just out of curiosity if you haven’t shared it already, what is a fantasy that never fails to make you insanely horny whenever you think about it? I love your writing and your technique aside from how sexy it is, so take this as an optional encouragement to go all Virginia Woolf on us (or not :))

this is such a sweet ask!! i'm always glad to know that my writing is well received and enjoyed even when i'm mostly shouting into a void hoping for my own echoes.

it may sound a bit silly but my most compelling fantasy and one which never fails is simple. simple in the way where it is of endless complexity to me and my mind. it is just a kiss. warm and perfect. i have an affinity for brown eyes and so those are what i'm seeing when i think of it. a curve forming in the corners of my lips when sunlight paints those pools of earth irises a petrified red hue. like clay, the base of a campfire, peeled bark— love. have you ever seen love in someone's eyes before, when they are gazing into yours? i have heard it from too many people, yet have only seen it true in few. infatuation is a horrible incorrigible disease. it would in any other instance have ruined the idea for me, love. but these particular eyes... they are honest and warm and pure with intention. they are eyes i know too well. lips I've felt on mine, a vision held onto when one wakes from a deep sleep, a dream. nearly forgotten but the memory has worked its way as reaching tendrils into the nerves of your being. bound to a part of you that was not there prior. i have often been described to be cold— emotionally withholding. these descriptions are not so wrong as they are only seen with what i've refused to give. infatuation is something i can feel out in seconds. fractions of, even. i keep to me what i risk losing when offered to others. i love deeply and without reserve, or i do not love at all, lest i tear myself apart in the lack of my conviction toward something so felt. it is hard like a surface, to be called cold underneath. but these eyes and these lips, they have held my love in ways i have never trusted any other. most would not know what to do with my love, were i to truly give it away.

dark brown eyes and a smile, two which drive warmth into my anemic veins. i could swear my skin shimmers when i see that pairing. i would be sure i am glowing if not for knowing. a kiss in mind pressed by the bare visual stimulation alone. i might swear that i could taste it, whatever essence of love lurks in the subtle grooves of their lips. moment held suspended, recognize i am nothing more than a soul pleading to be known.

their fingers are to the left of my jaw, pulling themselves close while i push myself to open. i can taste them in the air before it is a disappearance between us, full. a hand on my waist, like there is nowhere else for their body to be but flush to mine. and then— simple, warm, perfection. an exhale becomes a shared breath, my arms find place and purchase slow around their neck. a kiss is a promise of softly delivered affection. certainty without reserve. closeness with no guarantees, save for the kind which knows you better. perhaps i crave to be known better, or not known at all.

so anywaysssss yeah being kissed or smiled at or hearing someone laugh gets me insanely (as well as instantly) wet. i want others to be happy and i go to great lengths to make sure they are. i think shared happiness is the hottest thing in this universe to me. kinda poured my heart out a little here lmao. I've been kissed thousands of times but i guess i want to be soft with someone that i can actually trust rather than someone who just wants me as like a trophy, as that has been my experience. i could never match up to the goddess virgina, but i hope this was enough to sate some curiosities <3