#i tried to get them as accurate as i could

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 spoilers⚠️

i just saw someone say "vi put on a uniform for caitlyn but caitlyn never took hers off", even going as far as saying that caitvi shouldn't have ended up together bcuz they have the dynamic of "oppressor and oppressed". tell me you've never paid attention to a single thing caitlyn's done or said in either season without telling me😭😭 (this is my nth post abt this bcuz it pisses me off when ppl mischaracterize her so when you see underlined text, it's linked to a more detailed post)

are we forgetting when she traded her weapon, her gun, her only protection away for a shimmer/medication thing for that fucked up undercity dude with the glasses (the one who became the first of the glorious evolution) and hugged him?

when she saw ekko's commune, his tree, and validated ekko's feelings about piltover and enforcers but also told him the cycle of violence needs to be broken because the undercity needs healing - something ekko could understand even in his anger and hurt.

when she confronted her own parents abt how the government doesn't care about zaun and the situation there, and then took it straight to the council. when jayce, her literal childhood best friend and basically a brother to her, now a councilor, ASKED HER IF SHE KNOWS WHO MADE ONE OF JINX'S BOMBS AND SHE WENT "no, well, uh-" because vi held her hand. she asked him, in front of everyone, "what happened to you" when he suggested using hextech to invade zaun.

even when vi got sick of trying to change things through the council, caitlyn kept telling her there must be another way and they just needed to make a new plan. oil and water, vi said, and that she was stupid to think it would work, but caitlyn's response was, what about us? what about the actual people, not their value as representatives of a group, a stereotype, one of many indistinguishable units? we aren't oil and water.

ppl say she used to view zaunites as just "creeps, crooks and villains" and after seeing more from them through vi, she changed it to "innocent helpless victims", which obv is dehumanizing since you don't recognize a person's capability for both good and evil and only see them as a stereotype. but she's always recognized both kinds of people exist in the undercity and that being "good" or "bad" isn't that simple. ppl seem to be mad she didn't try and dismantle piltover's entire police force like that would be possible or a solution to zaun's problems. she has a strong moral compass and a sense of justice - innocents should be protected and criminals prosecuted, zaunites or topsiders. if you steal, you should go to jail. but when you come from the dark alleys of zaun and poverty and deprivation is all you know, you're way more likely to steal, and when enforcers are prejudiced against you, you're more likely to face excessive violence and maybe serve a longer sentence. and this is why she tells the council that there are good people down there, that there is rampant poverty, famine, a drug problem, etc. her focus is on the daily humanitarian struggles of the average people.

you guys will twist yourselves in knots to make excuses for jinx, justify her actions and forgive her for what she's done (when she literally, aside from murdering a bunch of people and destroying a fuckton of stuff because she was insane, unstable and uncontrollable, literally directly prevented zaun from getting sovereignty by blowing up the council) but you don't recognize caitlyn's entire change in character started when jinx tried to blow her up multiple times, kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, blew up the council killing her mother and then (this wasn't jinx but caitlyn doesn't know that) turned the councilor memorial statue reveal to a massacre. see: this very accurate post.

"caitlyn never took her uniform off" well maybe because she was scared of jinx, paranoid, angry, grieving her mother, seeking justice and buckling under the pressure of becoming head of house kiramman. perfectly normal reactions considering the circumstances. she even acknowledged to jayce how upsetting it was to realize this hate she harbored for jinx had started to undo a lot of the work she did towards understanding the undercity and zaunites better and seeking to help them. but i believe she thought jinx was a hazard to them too.

i have a whole other post diving into this, as well as why she wanted vi to "put on a uniform" (temporarily until they caught jinx, and not just bcuz she thought vi was "one of the good ones" but bcuz she wanted her close, under her protection and equipped w/ all resources available to piltover, not to mention ppl are seriously undermining the fact that vi played a role in that conflict too) and why she made the mistake of going too far in her pursuit of jinx - most notably becoming rougher and jailing people, poisoning the air as a battle tactic, endangering isha, hurting vi, assuming the commander position and pursuing jinx even harder. but this post isn't about that, it's about other ways in which she metaphorically took off her uniform, and even the way she wore it.

caitlyn wasn't happy as a commander, she wasn't going on a power trip, she didn't "become a dictator all too willingly" like ppl are saying. she had clear goals she was pursuing, none of which involved harming innocents (but protecting them), and she even confronted ambessa when she thought she was out of line, which caused tension between them. she even said something like "why is peace always a justification for violence?" to her. the cost of what she was doing was too much for her. all things considered, commander caitlyn wore her uniform in the best possible way.

and she took it off as soon as she saw what was on the line. vi's father turned monster would go berserk when injected by singed, innocents would be ripped to shreds, and he'd be captured and used as a weapon by ambessa (against the undercity or whomever). for all of these reasons, caitlyn betrayed ambessa. she double crossed her, and the way she acted it out matters, not just because vi, who she'd decked the last time she saw, called her "cupcake". but because it was the right fucking thing to do.

i have a separate post about caitlyn's implied guilt about what those things she'd done, about her knowing she couldn't undo those mistakes. this is what made her so desparate to try to make up for them that she not only send the guards away so vi could free jinx (another brilliant analysis here), but it also resulted in the way she fought ambessa tooth and nail alongside mel - like she had a death wish. she lost her eye so she could remove ambessa's talisman by cutting it free with the dagger she took out of her own side. and even in the very end, when she asks vi if she's still in this fight, it could be interpreted as the fight for zaun too.

so don't fucking talk to me about how she "never took her uniform off" for vi, when she's done that so many times, and she's done it for zaun too. and maybe even more so than that - it's how she wore it that matters. what she did with her privilege and her power - her agency.

season two is at fault for mismanaging the piltover/zaun conflict and not focusing on it enough in its latter half, as well as also not showing any proper longer caitvi conversations that might've taken place, in favor of... glorious evolution alien robots??

[spiicii]

the og bloodline / bloodline property (part two)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa / sami zayn x fem!reader  word count → 6.8k summary → sami zayn has proven himself an ally to the tribal chief. as a reward, he is invited to experience what no other outsider has experienced before: a taste of the bloodline’s property.  notes → definitely got carried away with this one, but i hope you think the wait was worth it! i tried not to play favorites, though i’m sure i failed miserably.  tags → multiple partners, possessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, choking, begging, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampie, hickies, some crying, overstimulation, lore accurate tribal chief (roman is not always nice to his cousins)

You pressed a small kiss beneath Roman’s jaw, feeling a small chuckle rumble in his chest at your touch. 

“What a sweet girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss of his own against your temple. “Now be good for me and sit in Daddy’s lap while he gets some work done. Okay?” 

You nodded, letting out a contented sigh as he pulled you closer, cradled in his arms. You always felt so small when he held you like this, his massive arms encircling you, keeping you tucked against his muscular chest. You closed your eyes and let him hold you, his deep voice keeping you calm as he spoke with his family. You didn’t know what they were saying and you didn’t care, more than happy to stay curled up in the Tribal Chief’s arms. His perfect pet. 

“Excuse me, my Tribal Chief. Sami Zayn is outside.” Paul Heyman’s words had you opening your eyes, watching with interest as the Wiseman approached, his head bowed in deference. “He wishes to speak with you.” 

Roman waved one of his hands dismissively. “Fine, fine. Send him in.” 

Paul bowed his head again, already moving away to follow his master’s orders. You felt Jey move up behind you, no doubt already irritated by Sami’s arrival. You knew they didn't get along. 

“Why you gotta entertain that fool, uce?” Jey snapped, his voice tight. “You know he ain’t blood.” 

“It’s not your call to make, Jey.” The Tribal Chief’s words were firm and the Right Hand Man was quickly silenced. Although you couldn’t see him, you could already imagine the disapproving look on his face. 

When Paul Heyman re-entered with Sami Zayn trailing close behind, you couldn’t help but watch him in curiosity. He was taller than you thought he’d be, a happy smile already on his face before he’d even been acknowledged. He seemed excited, practically bouncing on his heels as he entered, rubbing his hands together as though he had big news to share. 

“Hey, Roman! I-”

He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on you. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting you, his smile faltering as his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Oh! Hello.” He seemed nervous all of a sudden, fidgeting with his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sami.” 

He stepped forward with his arm outstretched, as if to offer you a handshake, and you were quick to shrink away. The Tribal Chief didn’t have many rules, but you knew it would displease him to have any man outside of the Bloodline touch you. Solo and Jey seemed to agree, already moving forward protectively. 

“Aye aye aye, back the fuck up, uce,” Jey snarled, shoving Sami roughly in the chest to push him back. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

Sami was quick to raise his hands, as if he were surrendering. “Whoa, whoa, wait! My bad, dawg. My bad. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” 

“Yo, uce, chill.” Jimmy was quick to intervene, already placing himself between Sami and his brother. “It’s alright, man. Relax.” 

Jey’s face was a mask of anger as he stared back at Sami, his hands clenched at his sides as if he were resisting the urge to punch him. Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just relax, uce. It’s all good here.” 

“Yes, Jey. Relax.” The Tribal Chief’s voice was calm, but you could hear the warning behind his tone. “Sit down.” 

You saw Jey tighten his jaw, no doubt resisting the urge to mouth off, but you knew he wouldn’t dare. Not with Sami here. So instead he obeyed, slowly moving back to Roman’s side to take a seat, his eyes flashing with anger. 

Jimmy offered Sami a smile. “Don’t worry about him, man. You know how he is.” 

Sami let out a nervous laugh, shifting his weight from one to the other. It was clear he was trying not to stare at you, but he was failing miserably, his eyes continuing to wander to take in your small form curled up in the Tribal Chief’s lap. You didn’t mind meeting his gaze, taking him in with equal curiosity. 

“You’ll have to forgive my cousins, Sami.” Roman said, relaxing further into his chair as he pulled you closer. “They’re a little…protective.” 

Sami chuckled again, though it was clear he was uncomfortable. “Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.” 

Solo made a displeased noise but a wave from Roman’s hand quickly silenced him. 

“I don’t normally let anyone outside of the Bloodline even look at what belongs to me, but I’ll make an exception for you, Sami. After all you’ve done for this family, I think you deserve a reward.” 

Sami looked at Roman in confusion. “Reward?” 

Roman hummed in agreement, reaching up to cup your cheek with his large hand. His touch was warm and your eyelids fluttered, leaning into his touch. 

“Isn’t she pretty, Sami?” The Tribal Chief kissed your hair and you melted deeper into his arms, your cheeks heating up at his sweet words. “You can see why my cousins are so possessive of her, huh?” 

Sami looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed unsure, his eyes flickering between you and Roman. 

“Come on, uce.“ Jimmy encouraged, clapping Sami on the back. "She’s pretty, ain’t she?” 

Sami met your eyes again and you offered him a bashful smile, nuzzling against the Tribal Chief’s neck in contentment. 

“Yeah,” Sami breathed, his eyes glued to you. “She is.” 

Roman chuckled, reaching around you to grab at your thigh, his grip possessive. “Come to our penthouse tonight then. Consider it a thank you for what you did for me last week with Drew McIntyre.” 

Sami seemed taken aback by his words, but not nearly as taken aback as Jey. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

Jey’s anger didn’t surprise you, however his willingness to confront the Tribal Chief did, especially in front of an outsider like Sami. You felt Roman tense beneath you, his grip on your thigh tightening. You buried your face into Roman’s neck, letting out a small whimper. The last thing you wanted was for them to argue. Unfortunately, Jey was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. 

“He ain’t got no business touching what belongs to us. Uce, you can’t-”

“I can’t?” The Tribal Chief’s tone was dangerous and Jey instantly fell silent. You saw Jimmy cast an alarmed glance in his twin’s direction, but he didn’t dare interfere. He knew better. 

You felt Roman take a shuddering breath beneath you, his fingers clenching and unclenching on your thigh in an attempt to compose himself. You were grateful Jey didn’t speak again. 

“As I was saying,” Roman continued, muscles still tense beneath you. “You are invited to our penthouse tonight. Being allied with the Bloodline has its perks. Ones that I hope you’ll indulge in.” 

After a few tense moments, Roman slowly relaxed, letting out a long breath and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, Sami. The Wiseman will see you out.” 

Sami quickly stood, his eyes still flickering with worry between Roman and Jey, but he didn’t say anything. After one final handshake from Jimmy, Paul escorted him out, quickly shutting the door behind them. 

The room was silent now, the air tense. Nobody moved, but Roman’s breath was steady, his chest rising and falling calmly beneath you as he held you close. Jimmy looked worried, his leg bouncing in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness, while Solo remained stoic as ever, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight ahead. It was a long time before the Tribal Chief finally spoke. 

“Argue with me in front of an outsider again and I’ll grind your face into the mat like I did at Hell in a Cell. Do you understand?” 

The silence was deafening, but it wasn’t long before you heard Jey’s response, his voice quiet, “Yes, my Tribal Chief.” 

*****

“Do you wanna touch her, Sami?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was a low rumble, his grip on your neck tight as he pounded into you from behind. 

You whined in his hold, your back arched perfectly as he kept you speared on his cock. His large hand was firmly around your neck, though you were grateful for it, his touch keeping you grounded as you balanced on your knees atop the king mattress. 

You met Sami’s heated gaze and saw the barest trace of a blush tinting his cheeks, his lips parted as he let out small pants of air. 

“Yes.” You heard him breathe, his eyes never leaving yours. You saw that he had his hands clenched at his sides, almost as if he were resisting the urge to reach out and touch you without the Tribal Chief’s permission. 

Roman shifted the angle of his thrusts and heat shot up your spine, another whine spilling your lips as he aimed for that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. He chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss into your hair as he continued to assault your g-spot, his thrusts unfaltering. 

“I don’t blame you.” Roman’s tone was conversational, his voice steady despite the fact that he was balls deep and rock hard inside of you. “She looks so perfect like this, stuffed full of my cock and begging for more. She knows how to serve her Tribal Chief, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

You tried to find the words to respond but he dragged across your g-spot again and you almost screamed, the feeling so good that you felt like you could hardly breathe. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed in your ear, his other hand grabbing one of your ass cheeks and kneading the soft flesh there. “You gonna come, pretty girl? Gonna come on your Daddy’s dick?” 

“Yes, please,” you gasped, the tension inside you threatening to snap. “Please, can I come, Daddy? Please?” 

“You beg so pretty for me, baby,” he moaned, his breath hot in your ear. His grip on your neck was so tight that you began to see black spots across your vision. “You can come.” 

The tension finally snapped and you shuddered in his hold, pleasure rolling through you as you clamped down on his dick. 

“Fuck!” He hissed, his hips beginning to stutter against yours. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl.” 

With a few more violent thrusts he did, warmth spreading inside you at the feeling. You relaxed in his hold, his grip on your neck loosening as he finished. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands gentle as he laid you back down on the mattress. “You alright, sweet girl?” 

You nodded, your brain still foggy from the pleasure he’d just given you. You heard him chuckle, his hand warm against your cheek. 

“You’re so good for your Tribal Chief, sweetheart.” he whispered, brushing a few stray hairs from your forehead. “You gonna be good for my Bloodline too? Gonna let them take care of you?” 

You pressed a kiss of your own to his cheek, a sign of life as your body recovered. “Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He praised, motioning for Sami at the end of the bed. You watched as Sami approached, his eyes raking across your naked form, his knuckles blanched from how hard he had them clenched at his sides. 

“Come give her a kiss, Sami,” Roman said, already moving away to make room for him. “I think she deserves it.” 

You heard a noise of protest to your right and you looked over to meet Jey’s reproachful gaze, his mouth set to a frown. Sami hadn’t laid a hand on you once since he arrived, the line in the sand clear. His reward from the Tribal Chief was the privilege of seeing you like this, fucked out and used by his Bloodline, a privilege that no other outsider had been granted - not even Paul Heyman. To be granted the honor of even touching you was clearly not something that Jey was expecting, swiftly rising from his chair to approach the bed, his expression furious. 

The Tribal Chief quickly clocked the movement, a firm finger already pointed in his direction. “Don’t even think about it.” Roman snapped, his tone brokering no room for argument. “Sit your ass down and be grateful I’m even allowing you in here after the shit you pulled earlier.” 

Jey curled his lip, an angry retort on his lips before Jimmy moved forward and grabbed his arm, hissing into his ear. “What the hell you doin’? Let it go, uce. It ain’t worth it.” 

There was a beat of silence, the air tense as Jey clenched and unclenched his fists, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. Jimmy continued to whisper furiously in his twin’s ear, tugging on his arm to urge him to sit back down. It took a few minutes, but Jey eventually obeyed, still staring daggers at Roman even as he took his seat, his jaw so tight it looked like it might snap in half. 

“That’s what I thought.” The Tribal Chief’s tone was smug. “I apologize, Sami. Some Right Hand Man, huh? I might be in the market for a new one if this one can’t do as he’s told.” 

A splotch of red dotted Jey’s cheeks, but he mercifully said nothing in return, his eyes simmering with anger as he glared at Roman. The Tribal Chief met his gaze evenly, his lips twisting into a smirk. 

“Well go on, Sami. Kiss her. I won’t ask again.” Roman’s impatience was beginning to bleed through his words, the smallest crack in his composed facade. Sami sensed it too, already moving quickly to your side, only stopping when he met your gaze. 

He seemed uncertain, his eyes flickering behind you to where Jey was sitting. You had no doubt that Jey was staring him down, but you didn’t turn around to look. Instead, you reached out your hand to Sami, tentatively brushing your fingers against his. He blinked, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to climb onto the bed, his eyes still wide as he stared down at you. 

You offered him a reassuring smile, sitting up to meet him. “It’s alright,” you murmured, taking his hand in yours and tugging gently to pull him closer. He followed you easily, his eyes never leaving yours. They were a pale blue, a stark contrast from the dark eyes of the rest of the Bloodline, his pupils blown wide with lust. You reached up and played with the hairs in his beard, watching with interest as his mouth parted, small puffs of breath falling from soft lips. 

You leaned forward and he met you halfway, your lips colliding with more force than you were expecting. You let out a surprised chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, spreading your legs to make space for him. He followed you further onto the bed and you felt his erection press against your hip, his hands on either side of you as he explored deeper into your mouth. He tasted different than the others, perhaps a little sweeter, his lips almost softer than Jey’s. 

He shifted a knee up and pressed it against your core, causing you to gasp against his mouth. He applied more pressure, the fabric of his jeans quickly soaked from your wetness, some of the Tribal Chief’s seed still dribbling out from where he’d claimed you. You felt your hips cant forward to seek more friction, reaching up to tangle your fingers into his unruly hair. 

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn’t feel the bed dip, another body joining the two of you. Full lips were pressing against your neck, a large hand reaching around you to palm at one of your breasts. It didn’t take long for you to realize that it was Jimmy, his lips ghosting across the shell of your ear as he pressed himself against you. 

Sami released you, leaning back to watch Jimmy wrap his arms around you and pull you close, his teeth now grazing the delicate skin of your neck. Sami seemed hesitant now, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you, as if he expected to be dismissed. You offered him another smile, reaching out to tug gently on his beard. 

“Why’d you stop?” you hummed, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Sami visibly gulped, his eyes flickering to Jimmy, as if he were anticipating a fight. 

“Jimmy won’t bother you, Sami.” You heard the Tribal Chief say and you looked over to see that he had settled in his own chair, watching the scene unfold with interest. “He knows how to share.” 

Jimmy chuckled against your skin, his kisses full of teeth. “Sometimes.” 

You couldn’t help but smile, your eyes sparkling with humor as you met Sami’s gaze. “He’s just kidding,” you assured him, pulling him closer. “Kiss me again.” 

Sami quickly obliged, his persistent mouth on yours as Jimmy pressed more searing kisses to your neck and shoulders. It was normally Solo who would leave love bites and bruises across your delicate skin, but Jimmy was in a rare form tonight, his clever tongue licking and nipping wherever he could. His mouth was now latched to the underside of your jaw, a bruise blossoming beneath his lips. 

Sami’s kisses were becoming more desperate, his breath coming out in gasps, swallowing your moans as though he were a drowning man. He only made a sound of annoyance when Jimmy placed a calloused finger under your jaw and tore you away from Sami’s ministrations to claim your mouth for his own, your kiss wet and filthy. 

Sami’s erection pressed deeper into your hip and you moaned in response, wanting more than anything to be filled. Satisfied. 

“You’re welcome to stay, Sami,” The Tribal Chief interrupted, his voice low as he watched the three of you. “But you won’t fuck her. Not tonight. I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.” 

Roman’s tone was light, but you could sense the seriousness behind his words. He’d already been more than generous, allowing Sami to taste what belonged only to the Bloodline. But he wouldn’t allow any more than a taste, not from any outsider, no matter how loyal they were to the Head of the Table. 

Sami’s brow furrowed at the Tribal Chief’s words and you could tell that he was frustrated, his hips stuttering against yours as he resisted the urge to grind against you. 

You looked over Sami’s shoulder and saw that the Tribal Chief’s eyes were narrowing, his patience already tested earlier by Jey’s outburst. “Sami. Come join me.” 

It was a warning. One that Sami was smart enough to hear. His hips stilled against yours, slowly climbing off of you and taking a seat in the chair closest to the bed. He adjusted himself before sitting down, clearly uncomfortable still in his jeans, but he didn’t complain, his eyes still heated as they met yours. 

Jimmy suckled another bruise behind your ear, his cock pressed thickly against your ass. You closed your eyes and relaxed in his arms, letting out a small whine as he twisted cruelly on one of your nipples. His breath was warm against your neck. “Want us both, sweetheart?” 

Always. 

“Yes, please.” You moaned, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting more than anything to be filled up and used. Wanting only to serve.

“Good girl,” Jimmy purred, curling his fingers in your hair to pull you into a kiss. You felt his hands on your hips, already twisting your body around to face him. 

“Don’t.” Roman’s firm voice startled you, your eyes flying open in alarm to look at him. You quickly realized that he wasn’t speaking to you, his angry gaze focused on Jey instead. It took you a moment to understand that Jey had been making his way over to the bed, about to join you and his brother before the Tribal Chief had stopped him. 

The twins almost always fucked you together - it was just their way. They had a near telepathic ability to communicate, their movements always in sync, almost as if they were one person who had been blessed with two bodies. Roman had never interfered, allowing his Bloodline to use you as they saw fit, but tonight was different. His eyes were narrowed at Jey, making it clear that he would not be permitted to touch you tonight. 

The two men faced off as if they were about to fight, Roman’s face completely stoic as Jey’s lip curled again, his golden teeth flashing in the dim lighting of the room. Sami watched the scene unfold with a nervous expression, wringing his hands together as his gaze flickered between the Tribal Chief and the Right Hand Man. Jey took another step forward and you made a distressed noise, pressing your face into Jimmy’s neck, a silent plea to stop this. You hated it when they argued. 

Jimmy shushed you, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead to keep you calm. As always, he knew exactly what you needed. “It’s alright, pretty girl. They don’t mean it. Come on, guys. You’re killin’ the vibe. Stressin’ our girl out for no damn reason.” 

Roman’s eyes met yours and you saw them soften. He never wanted to upset you. Not if he could help it. He leaned back in his chair, motioning towards Solo, who had been a silent spectator for most of the night. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Solo and Jimmy will take care of you tonight. We won’t fight anymore. Will we, Jey?” 

Despite his efforts to keep the peace, you could hear the threat behind Roman’s words, his tone making it clear that he would not tolerate any further disobedience. Jey scowled, his lip still curled, but he thankfully didn’t argue. 

The bed dipped again as Solo joined, his eyes meeting yours with such intensity that you felt your knees weaken. As much as you enjoyed the attention from the twins, you always felt comforted by Solo’s presence. He didn’t participate every night, sometimes content to sit back and watch, his normally stoic facade giving nothing away. You were glad he was here now, your hand reaching out to him almost instinctively to urge him to come closer. 

He took your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pressed a sweet kiss into your palm. You smiled at him, pulling him closer. He could be sweet when he wanted to be, despite his rough exterior. You knew he cared for you, his signs of affection small, but not unnoticed. You were pleased when he offered you a gentle kiss to your temple, another sign of his devotion to you. 

Still, you weren’t surprised when he quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you roughly from Jimmy’s grasp to manhandle you into the position he wanted. Solo might have his sweet moments, but he wasn’t one to fuck around. He knew what he wanted, and he took it. You tried to suppress a chuckle as you heard Jimmy grumble, clearly unhappy to not be calling the shots. Solo ignored him, already shoving his older brother roughly back down against the mattress. 

“Aye, yo, what the fuck, uce?” Jimmy protested, but he quickly silenced once he realized what was happening, watching with interest as Solo lifted you up to straddle Jimmy’s hips. You went easily, letting out a shaky breath as Jimmy’s erection nudged at your already slicked entrance. Jimmy looked up at you with a smirk, his hands already on your hips to keep you steady in his lap. 

“Bossy motherfucker,” Jimmy muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked up at you. “Lift your hips, babygirl. Gonna fill that pretty pussy up.”  

You placed your hands on Jimmy’s tattooed chest, leaning up further and widening your legs to allow his tip to tease at your entrance. You shuddered as you took the first few inches, your toes curling at finally being filled. 

As you took more of Jimmy’s cock, you felt Solo move up behind you, his fingers threading into your hair as he pressed a searing bite under your jaw. Your eyelids fluttered at the feeling, bordering the line between pain and pleasure. You let out a gasp as he left a particularly vicious bite mark on your shoulder, yet another bruise to prove that you were claimed. Owned. 

“Solo’s gonna open you up, pretty girl,” Jimmy murmured as he leaned back, your eyes taking in the miles of golden muscle across his exposed chest. “Now be a good girl and sit on this dick.” 

You sank deeper onto his length, letting out a sharp gasp as your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Jimmy reached out and grabbed your chin, the grip punishing. “And what do you say?” 

Your eyelids fluttered and your pussy convulsed at his dominating words. Somehow, you managed to find the words. “Thank you, sir.” you whispered, watching Jimmy’s searing gaze twist into a smirk, his fingers tracing the shape of your lips. “Good girl.” 

When Solo’s fingers reached your ass, they were gentle, covered in lube as they slowly fingered you open. You felt your body instinctively tense at the intrusion, the walls of your pussy fluttering around Jimmy’s cock, causing him to let out a groan. 

You felt Solo’s other hand on your shoulder, his touch immediately causing you to still. “Just relax, pretty girl.” You heard Solo murmur, his voice grounding you. “I got you.” 

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to relax as his fingers explored deeper inside you. The feeling was always strange, but not unwelcome, pleasure already beginning to spread across your body like wildfire. 

Jimmy bottomed out and all the oxygen left your lungs. Your mouth fell open as you felt his tip knock against your cervix. God, he felt so big at this angle. You shivered as you felt his cock twitch inside you, Solo adding another finger as he worked to scissor you open. When Solo pushed a little deeper, you felt an embarrassing sound emit from your throat, so whiny and needy that Jimmy laughed. 

“Almost there, little girl,” Jimmy rumbled, his grip on your hips still tight. “You can take it.” 

With Jimmy’s cock now stuffed deep inside, pleasure beginning to curl at the base of your spine, there was only thing you wanted to do: move. 

You lifted your hips experimentally, whining as Solo’s grip on your shoulder tightened to keep you still. “Not yet.” Solo scolded, adding yet another finger. “Don’t be greedy.” 

You couldn’t help by squirm in Jimmy’s lap, but you forced yourself to obey, the burn of Solo’s fingers a good reminder that if he didn’t take his time working you open he could hurt you. 

Eventually, Solo withdrew his fingers and you whimpered at the loss, your body already trembling with need. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait, wanting more than anything to bounce on Jimmy’s cock until you saw stars. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye had you turning your head, watching as Jey paced beside the bed. His face was twisted in a mixture of anger and lust, his gaze occasionally flickering over to where Roman sat, almost as if he were pleading with the Tribal Chief to rescind his orders and allow him to join you. 

You wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to pull him close and kiss away those ugly feelings until he smiled again. Would Roman be mad if you did that? Although you belonged to the Tribal Chief, he was normally powerless to deny you anything. Seeing Jey stalk the length of the room like a caged animal had something aching in your chest, but then Solo’s lubed-up cock nudged against your empty hole and all thoughts flew from your head. 

You hadn’t realized that you were shaking so much, though whether it was from excitement or nervousness you weren’t sure. Jimmy seemed to take pity on you. “Come here, babygirl,” he murmured, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, taking the weight from your already aching knees. You leaned into him, your forehead falling into the crook of his neck. 

You let out a high-pitched keen as Solo continued to push deeper into you, the feeling growing more and more intense with every inch. Solo let out a low groan, his hand gripping your shoulder tightly. “Such a good girl,” he breathed, his hips stuttering as he resisted the urge to plunge deeper without giving you time to adjust. Jimmy shifted inside you and you felt his length graze against your g-spot, the feeling sending electric shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck!” Jimmy hissed, his hands moving down and gripping your ass to spread you open for his brother. “Jesus, I’m not gonna be able to last if she keeps doing all that.” 

You barely heard him, the feeling of Solo’s cock splitting you open making your eyes roll back into your head, your own heartbeat in your ears. 

Another inch and you felt your knees buckle, but you didn’t fall - not with Jimmy’s hands on your ass and Solo’s hand on your shoulder. You felt your pussy spasm helplessly around Jimmy’s cock, the feeling making you want to crawl out of your skin with want. 

“Fu…fuck,” you babbled, your body tensing as Solo pushed deeper. “Too big.” You gasped, your hands scrabbling for purchase against Jimmy’s strong body. 

“You can take it, honey,” Jimmy crooned in your ear, his large hands keeping you speared on Solo’s cock. “Now be a good slut and relax for me.”

Your pussy contracted at his words, your mouth placing feverish kisses against Jimmy’s neck. Jimmy groaned, his cock twitching inside you as you began to lift your hips, still impatient despite the intensity of the feeling of two dicks inside you. 

“So tight,” Solo gasped, his grip on your shoulder becoming punishing. You whimpered at the feeling, leaning up to give a messy kiss to Jimmy’s mouth. With one final thrust, Solo was fully seated inside you, his body flush against yours. You froze, your muscles tense and toes curling. You let out a shuttering gasp against Jimmy’s lips and the look he gave you was positively sinful.

“She looks so fucked out, uce,” Jimmy breathed, one of his hands coming up to wipe the sweaty hair from your face. 

Solo leaned forward, his fingers under your jaw to turn your face towards him. Your mouth was open as you let out small, desperate pants, your eyes dazed when you met his. He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss against your heated skin. 

When both of them moved at the same time, you felt your eyes cross. They fucked you together, not nearly as in sync as the twins normally did, but you found that you didn’t care. With each knock against your cervix your pussy constricted around Jimmy’s cock, making his hips stutter in response. 

“Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” Jimmy growled, his canines nipping against your neck. “So fucking tight.” He adjusted his thrusts and suddenly he was hitting your g-spot with devastating precision. You cried out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes at just how good it felt. Solo let out a groan, his warm hand pressing between your shoulder blades, hips snapping faster as you continued to clench down on him. 

Jimmy’s hand was on your jaw, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. You met his dark eyes, eyelids fluttering, mesmerized by his gaze. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming, your body impossibly full, both holes stretched and abused by two members of the Tribal Chief’s Bloodline. It was all becoming too much. 

“Please, Daddy, please,” you begged, the pleasure threatening to push you over the edge. Solo’s hand wrapped your throat, his fingers pressing down hard enough to bruise. You arched your back, tight as a bow. “Please!” You cried, unwilling to finish without your Tribal Chief’s permission. 

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Roman’s voice was closer than you realized, and you opened your eyes to see that he was standing beside the bed, his fingers reaching out to brush across your sweaty brow. “Beg me for it and I promise I’ll give it to you.” 

Jimmy’s thrusts began to falter and you knew he was close, your own orgasm just a hair's breadth away. “Please, Daddy,” you begged, your eyes crossing as Jimmy continued to pound into that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. “Please, let me come. Please, please, please.” 

The Tribal Chief’s words were as sweet as honey. “Come for me, baby.” 

Pleasure ravaged your body, muscles jerking and your mouth parted in a silent scream. Your pussy spasmed and convulsed, milking Jimmy’s cock as he continued to slam into you, punching the air from your lungs. He was close, sweat dripping down his brow. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he swore, his mouth on your shoulder as he finally spilled inside you, the feeling warm and euphoric. 

Solo wasn’t far behind, his grip tightening around your throat. “What a good slut,” he snarled, smacking your ass so hard you groaned. His thrusts were becoming harder and more erratic, his grip on your throat so tight that you found yourself fighting for air. 

With one final thrust Solo spilled inside you too. You made a pitiful sound as he released your throat, your head falling into Jimmy’s shoulder. You forced yourself to focus on the feeling of Jimmy’s warm body beneath you, the only thing anchoring you to the earth as the aftershocks of your orgasm left you twitching. Your insides felt gooey, muscles still shaking as Jimmy held onto you, keeping you from collapsing. 

“Good girl,” Someone whispered in your ear, their voice sounding far away. “So sweet. So perfect.” 

You let out a whine as Solo pulled out, your hole clenching down on emptiness. You felt exposed and vulnerable, and he ran a soothing hand down your back, as if he were calming a frightened animal. “You’re okay, baby. We got you.” 

When Jimmy pulled out you felt your mind short-circuit, his load trickling down your inner thigh and onto his exposed stomach. You let out a breathy gasp at the feeling, your body still trembling in his arms. “Shhh,” Jimmy soothed, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead. “Just relax, honey. I gotchu.” 

They were gentle as they laid you down on the bed, their hands no longer grabbing to bruise, their mouths no longer seeking to bite. You let out a small sigh, your body aching and your holes still twitching and spasming from abuse. 

You tried to form a coherent thought, but you felt brain-dead, too drunk on cock to think. All you could do was lay there, babbling the only word you could think of: Jey. 

You repeated his name over and over again like a mantra, letting out a small sigh as you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The Tribal Chief pressed a kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle. 

“What do you need, pretty girl?” 

You made a distressed noise, your fingers reaching out towards nothing. “Jey.” You whispered, your eyelids fluttering. “Jey.” 

The Tribal Chief’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. You reached out to grasp at Roman’s arm, your eyes pleading. 

“Please, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from abuse. “Please.” 

Roman frowned, his expression displeased as he reached out to stroke your hair. You shivered beneath his touch, knowing that while he had never denied you anything you desired, you were asking for too much. It wasn’t your place to interfere with the Tribal Chief’s methods of keeping his Bloodline obedient, especially if he felt disrespected by his own Right Hand Man. 

Still, you couldn’t help but clutch at his arm, your eyes wet with tears. You needed Jey, the same way you needed all of them. 

The Tribal Chief’s gaze softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle. “Greedy girl,” He was shaking his head, but he didn't look angry. He looked almost amused. “But you know I can’t ever say no to you, hm?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, nuzzling into his hand as he stroked your hair. 

The Tribal Chief pressed one final kiss to your cheek before standing up, his eyes flashing over to where Jey stood. His smile immediately dropped, his jaw now ticked in annoyance as he returned to his seat. He met Jey's questioning gaze with a frown, but he didn’t say anything. Thankfully, Jey understood that he was being given permission, no matter how begrudging it was, and he quickly stripped his shirt and climbed onto the bed before Roman changed his mind. 

You let out a contented sigh as Jey moved between your legs, his soft lips against yours instantly. His smell was in your nose, sandalwood and bergamot, already making you dizzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, comforted by his presence. 

“Why’d you do that, babygirl?” You heard Jey whisper in your ear, too low for anyone else to hear. You held onto him tightly, completely at ease now that he was with you. You weren’t sure you had an answer for him, so you leaned up to kiss him again, hoping that your actions could convey everything he made you feel. 

I want you. I need you. I love you. 

Jey seemed to understand. He always did. He smiled down at you, a burst of sunshine, before leaning down to return to your kiss, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. You reached up to tangle your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, wanting desperately to taste every inch of him. 

His cock slipped into you easily, your cunt still soaking wet from your previous orgasms, his brother and cousin’s come still leaking out from where they’d claimed you earlier. He gasped at the feeling, his forehead pressed against yours as he felt your velvety walls spasm and contract around him. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned, his hips already moving against yours. “My perfect girl.” 

The feeling of him inside you had you relaxing in his arms, each thrust of his hips sending you deeper and deeper into euphoria. Having him inside you was like coming up for air, all the tension bleeding from your muscles as he fucked into you. You melted into the mattress, your eyes fluttering as pleasure curled inside you. 

You’re more relaxed than you’d been all night, Jey’s perfect cock turning your brain into mush as you felt nothing but bliss. You felt him smile into the next kiss he gave you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

“You feel good, baby?” His tone was almost teasing, as if he knew just how lost you were in the pleasure he was giving you, his treatment turning you into nothing more than a brain-dead cocksleeve. When his clever fingers found your clit, you thought you would vibrate out of your skin in ecstasy, your mouth falling open at the feeling. 

You felt him chuckle, his talented fingers so good against you that you felt tears spring into your eyes. 

“It’s alright, pretty girl,” he cooed, his words gentle despite the brutal snap of his hips, quickly picking up speed as he chased his own pleasure. “I gotchu. Gonna take care of you, mamas.” 

You felt helpless as your orgasm rapidly approached, your muscles trembling from how good he was fucking you. His long fingers began to pick up the pace against your clit, matching the fast rhythm of his hips. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, heat tingling at the base of your spine. 

“Daddy,” You gasped, still coherent enough to remember to ask for permission. “Please, can I come?” 

There was no answer and you felt the tears begin to fall, your self-control already eroding away with each clever twist of Jey’s fingers. 

“Please, Daddy!” You cried, your orgasm so close that you weren’t sure if you could stop it now, even if you wanted to. “Please!” 

You sobbed in relief when you finally heard the Tribal Chief speak. “You can come, pretty girl.” 

The tension snapped. You were engulfed in never-ending pleasure, your pussy tightening and gushing around Jey’s cock as you came, your eyes rolling back into your head as bliss overtook you. You heard Jey swear at the feeling, your release triggering his own as he spilled inside you, painting your insides with his hot, sticky seed. 

Your muscles were shaking, overstimulation now causing Jey’s pleasure to border on pain. But none of it mattered. Despite the tears streaming down your face, you rolled your hips to milk his cock through both of your orgasms, desperate to please. Desperate to serve. 

[mc-lukanette]

"Luka, do you believe in soulmates?"

Luka nearly stumbled after that question left Marinette's mouth. While conversation was common between them on their walks - regardless of if it was a walk to go somewhere together, a walk to find inspiration, or a walk to simply walk - he hadn't expected a topic like that.

Just about anyone wouldn't, actually, not when a vast majority of the population had soulmate marks. Luka himself sported one, as did Marinette.

He looked to her for clarification, but her gaze was distant, drawn up towards the sky like it might give her whatever answer she was looking for. Wanting to consider her question seriously, he asked, "Are you talking about destiny?"

"No ...maybe?" Her brows furrowed and she appeared just as confused as him by her own thought process. Throwing a hand out in exasperation, she tried again, "We're chosen. That's the idea, right? Because someone, or the universe, or something did it?"

"Yeah?" He supposed that was accurate even if he didn't know himself. No one could ever agree on the true cause and evidence was nonexistent, so it was largely left up to interpretation.

More religiously-inclined individuals would call it a God giving people a sign of their all-knowing nature, or giving their approval of two people being together. Depending on one's view, that theory ranged from being about a holy entity asserting their omnipotence to being about the most powerful shipper to ever exist trying to pair up the population to their liking.

For others, it was just a force of the universe, whether a conscious one or not. The way the marks changed as cultures did could answer questions about that, or it may only add them.

Some theories left it down to the individual: that people were magical or that their souls called out and found another, which ultimately manifested in a soulmate mark.

Luka didn't know, and it wasn't something that kept him up at night. The pondering of why soulmate marks existed and what they truly meant held about as much weight to him as why some random person on the other side of the world chose to eat an apple instead of an orange that day.

Of course, it wasn't always like that. There was a time when he was younger when he looked at the mark near Marinette's elbow, listening to her ramble excitedly about who her soulmate might be and what kind of person she hoped they were, and he felt jealous. He'd loved her knowingly for years, probably loved her unknowingly even longer, but he was happy.

In a way, not being her soulmate meant that she had no incentive or suggestion to be close to him beyond enjoying his company. That alone held great value to him, and he liked the simplicity: importance to someone without need of a fancy fate tattoo slapped on at birth to show for it.

"Ugh," Marinette groaned, running both hands down her face. "I get a headache whenever I think about it. It doesn't make sense."

"Which part?"

"Mm..." She pouted. "The good part?"

He still wasn't following, though he did like hearing her talk. He was happy to be her black-and-blue rubber duck if she needed it.

"Everyone thinks that soulmate marks are soooo great," she continued with an edge to her voice, waving her arms wildly, "but they don't always think about who, or what, or whatever's behind it! What if it—"

"Look out."

Luka caught a glimpse of what was about to happen just in time, reaching out to grab her shoulder and pull her back, the honest-to-God cream pie that'd fallen from above splattering on the sidewalk below. He looked up to lock gazes with the person who'd appeared to either accidentally drop or knock it over, but they were already ducking back inside in embarrassment.

Giving a quick glance at her shoes to confirm that the pie didn't get on them, his eyes went to her face next. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer, staring solemnly at the dessert on the ground, though that may have not been entirely accurate. It almost appeared as if she were looking at things all around it that weren't actually there.

He knew then what was happening in her mind before she spoke again.

"What if it doesn't care about you or thinks you're a joke? What if it gave you a soulmate just for a laugh?"

Marinette had never had good luck. Having known her since they were both kids, Luka knew that for a fact. He'd become so used to it that anticipating and preventing whatever insanely unlucky moments he could was like muscle memory to him. His body simply felt the signs and acted on its own.

Thus, her conclusion didn't come as anything strange to him, however depressing it sounded. The thought that there was some higher being taking delight in... whatever this was, it didn't sound impossible.

Cautious with suspicion of what her answer may be, he asked, "Did something happen with him?"

He normally wouldn't say anything about that relationship, nor do so much as to speak the boy's name. After countless times of watching Marinette lamenting some perceived failure that was, more often than not, either terrible luck or the universe personally spiting her, he stopped bringing it up. It made her miserable to talk about it and he had a dog in the proverbial race, so it was convenient for both of them if he kept quiet.

No matter how much he wanted and also didn't want to know how it was going or if any sparks were flying, that was her business and he would only pry if he felt it necessary. Most of what he knew was simply that she had seen the soulmate mark by accident and her soulmate had yet to see hers.

"Ha," she scoffed, turning her face away from him. "Nothing happened, that's the problem."

She went to keep walking, not feeling right standing in the same place on the sidewalk, and nearly stepped in the fallen pie before he caught her shoulder again. She tossed him a grateful look and they continued their walk side-by-side.

"I just wanted to get to know him better! Isn't it normal to want to know what your soulmate is like?" She huffed, face pinkening in shame. "But any time I try to talk to him, it all comes out wrong and it doesn't make any sense, and not even in a way that makes sense!"

She held her hands out, feigning holding a box.

"And the other day, I put a box of my parents' macarons on his desk with a note on it, but Chloe took it and told him they were from her! He even bought it!" She stopped talking, squinting at nothing as she turned to him and corrected, "Her story, not the macarons."

He nodded along and let her continue.

"Anyway!" She faced the sky with a glare, fists tight against her chest. "Like Chloe would ever be caught dead in my parents' bakery. She wouldn't even take the time out to buy a gift herself unless it was for herself!"

He chuckled, though there was sympathy too. He couldn't imagine what was crazier of a thought: that Marinette's parents would sell to their daughter's bully, or that someone would be unaware enough to believe such a story in the first place. The macarons couldn't have been that good.

Head tilted up towards the sky, she clasped her hands together behind her back and sighed. "Maybe my standards for guys are too high, or I'm missing something about soulmates. That's why I asked." Eyes drifting towards where her partly hidden mark was, she grumbled, "I don't think it's a coincidence anymore that it's where my funny bone is..."

Luka hummed, a question lingering in his mind but not one that was relevant to hers: in all of his knowing her, she'd never dated anyone, so he couldn't imagine where her "standards for guys" had come from, but he thought better of saying it aloud.

Turning his head to look at the rest of the world, so far removed from the little bubble they'd crafted for each other, Luka took in their surroundings: the pigeons flying overhead, the cars passing by, and a couple having snacks at a table outside a cafe. His lips twitched at the latter sight as a thought occurred to him.

"Do you remember when we were kids?" He met her confused gaze. "My favorite Jagged Stone song was Bottomless. I thought it was the deepest song I ever heard."

Marinette snorted, a delightful noise that he always loved hearing. "And when he got asked what it meant, he said..."

With a dramatic groan hearkening back to the emotions of his childhood self, he lamented, "That he was hungry when he wrote it."

Her chest heaved as she snorted again, putting a hand over her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. It was all in good fun and he had fond memories of her comforting him at the time as if the revelation had destroyed his psyche, wanting to protect his innocence.

"I was devastated," he half-joked as he slipped his hands into his pockets, "but then I realized that it didn't matter."

Her laugh cut off with a choke, shocked by the statement. He didn't blame her, as he'd never really expressed the thought to anyone before.

And Luka Couffaine, not caring what Jagged Stone had to say about his own song? Unheard of.

"It didn't change how I felt about it, or what it meant to me," he explained. "Just because he was the one who made it didn't mean I had to see it the way he did."

Marinette was smart, and he could see the parallel clicking in her head. His thoughts on Jagged's song were much like his thoughts on his mark, or soulmate marks in general, in that he couldn't care less about anyone else's theories or ideas about them. Maybe his mark genuinely meant that the person with a matching mark was destined to be with him, or the exact opposite. Perhaps it was a warning about someone he could never get along with, or there was no person at all who matched his mark.

But he knew how he felt. He knew what he wanted, and it had nothing to do with a nonconsensual tattoo he had on his neck.

"What about you, Marinette? What do you want your mark to mean?"

They came to a crosswalk, the warning sign flashing red. Stopping along with her, Luka's hands fell back to his sides as he waited for Marinette's response. Her gaze was locked to her feet, which shifted against the sidewalk while she mulled over her answer.

"...I don't want it to mean anything. My life's already complicated enough without thinking about what I'm supposed to do about it," she decided. "I don't need a soulmate either, just something simple: someone to talk to, someone who comforts me like I comfort them..."

"I think that sounds great." He beamed, charmed by the promised simplicity.

She continued, voice quieting, "...someone to go on walks with."

...Wait.

She gripped the bottom of her shirt with the hand furthest from him, tangling her finger in the fabric. "Someone to hold hands with..."

Then he felt it. It was the lightest of touches, but he knew with certainty the feeling of her other hand's knuckles brushing his. The way her face pinked at her cheeks only supported that.

It was a question in the form of physical contact: Do you want this? Is this okay?

Without having realized, Luka had fallen into the trap of assuming everything about soulmates without meaning to, contrary to his own opinion. Marinette had put so much weight onto it when they were kids that he didn't dare to imagine anything else but that she wanted them romantically.

Had she really just wanted to get to know them? Or had she wanted him to be sure that she wasn't interested in them first? Was that why she'd asked him in the first place? To know whether it would matter to him or not?

A car driving by, causing wind to rustle their hair, brought Luka back to reality. Not wanting to be misunderstood for even an instant, he took her hand in his and brought it to his chest, holding it there so she could feel his heartbeat.

She gasped, but didn't pull away, staring at their joined hands in awe.

"What else?" he asked, sending every implication at her through his tone.

"Ah—" The pink on her cheeks spread further along her face, but she still answered, "S-someone who will touch my face, like..."

She trailed off, lost for a way to describe it, but Luka needed no further instruction. Taking a single step to be even closer to her, he raised his free hand. Fingers bent, he glided the backs along Marinette's cheek, a pleasant heat coming off of it.

"Anything else?"

She opened her mouth, paused to swallow, then gave him a hopeful smile. With only a hint of shyness this time, she requested, "Kiss me."

He did, his hand going from her cheek to the back of her head as their lips met. Cars continued to pass by, but he couldn't hear them over his heart pounding so loud he could feel it in his skull.

"Lu—" Marinette started to say, but whatever it was must not've been more important than kissing him. She tightened her grip on the hand he'd been holding, the other pulling at his jacket to keep him close.

As if he would've ever gone anywhere but right in front of her. The mere thought baffled him.

When they pulled away, hands still intertwined, it took Luka a few seconds for the world to come back into focus. The crosswalk sign signaled that they could walk now, but he couldn't say for sure whether it had done that recently or if they'd been kissing for so long that they'd missed a prior chance to cross. He couldn't bring himself to care either, not when she held his hand like it was something precious.

She smiled gorgeously at him and tugged him along. He followed after her eagerly, silently wondering if she had any further "requirements" that he could meet.

[cannibalisation]

do you write for poly!marauders?(not peter tho) if so could i request the marauders with a reader who usually goes mute when upset? how would they comfort their s/o?

if you don’t write for poly!marauders thats totally okay but as a replacement could you write that with James Potter only?

i. a presence welcomed

james potter/gn!reader

thank you so much for your request! i just wanted to make it clear that i do write for poly!marauders but i didn't know how to best execute it with this request, so i'm sorry to disappoint, anon :( (604 words)

caution. angsty, mentions of injury, occ james, ambiguous relationship, i don't really know how to write for a mute!reader, apologies if it's not accurately depicted.

“Are you alright, love?”

THE kitchens of Hogwarts school were often left unoccupied during the day. Magic was used to bring ingredients back and forth between the walk-in pantries and ovens, a perfect place to hide away from the watchful eyes of judgemental teenagers and overbearing professors.

The working elves had been courteous to leave you be, or perhaps they were just uninterested in becoming temporary companions to tearful students. You don’t blame them, of course, who knows how much they have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

Your head was held low between your legs, gaze locked onto the cobbled floor. It’s not often you hide here in the kitchens; that only happens when it truly gets bad.

Once only a few moons ago, James had found you deep within the Forbidden Forest, tucked beneath the twisting roots of trees. Your knees had been scratched up and coated in a layer of mud and moisture from the earth.

He had said very little when he approached you that day; a small gasp left his throat when he saw your tear-streaked face. James had continued to keep quiet as he sat down close by you on the forest floor, not daring to speak up about your happenings.

After what felt like many hours (despite the fact that it was only a class period), you made your way back to the castle with James in tow.

He had not brought up that quiet moment alone to you again, and you were more than grateful. Though it had always bewildered you as to how exactly he had found you, the Forbidden Forest was a place of refuge and mystery; not many students dared to trek the journey out there alone.

So it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to find you here, right when you had needed him.

Like a second nature of his, James Potter stayed quiet and only slid down the wall besides where you were sitting. Whatever holy being (or perhaps pure fate) had sent you this boy, it was clear that he was a gift undeserved. For what greatness could you achieve in silence.

Your head rests atop your left knee now, the one closest to James. A predetermined action or not, it does not go unnoticed by the curly-haired boy. He shuffles in close proximity to you, but not too close to make it seem as if you were cornered. He was no predator, and you were not prey—he had always tried his best to make sure you knew that in these moments of vulnerability.

The room returns to silence once again; you can hear the faint beating of your heart against your chest. Can James hear it too? It’s dark in the pantry; a small sliver of light shines from beneath the crack in the door.

In a brief act of bravery, you move in closer to his form, perching your head from your knee to his shoulder. He embraces the decision with warmth and shock as he hovers his right hand above your own shoulder. It’s obvious he’s nervous to properly respond, so you nudge your nose into the column of his neck to make your motives more clear.

He acknowledges the reply and places a warm hand on your arm, tugging you in closer.

It wasn’t easy in these moments of distress, not for you or for the people around you. You didn’t know how to react, and your friends never truly knew how to comfort you. But somehow, the rowdy Gryffindor boy named Potter always knew. And you’d be foolish to let that go.

authors note. this is also a lot shorter than i had wanted it to be, and it's definitely not my best work. even though it's not an excuse i am kind of in a writers block right now and i'm struggling to write anything but i'm still accepting requests! but just so it's clear they won't exactly be published in haste 🫶🏻

[sage-is-in-fact-very-tired]

a list of songs from arcane, in mostly chronological order, that are - to some degree - icarus coded or like. in that ballpark.

- Playground is . s1 ominous Bane. something about their base being underground something about the taunting something about leading people there something something

- Goodbye . I dunno . Something about prison duo during the cathedral something about broters after the cathedral and when they were kids something something

- Guns for Hire. Midas coded midas coded midas coded. Something about the loss of control Something about walls falling (like the Worldport) Something about being out of time and all of that and not being able to turn back and Something about icarus becoming midas' unintentional plaything and-

- Snakes is s1!prison duo. thank you for coming to my tedtalk

- What could have been. I've been saying this since the beginning that this song is icarus coded. Something about becoming something because of someone else, parts getting replaced and leaving other parts that don't quite fit together something about icarus' anger at midas something about how they coulve been good and alright is midas has more control and they didn't (however unintentionally) do what they did. "Why don't you love who I am?" Is both about midas and fable because like . yeah. "I am your ghost" because they're versions of each other and-

- Heavy is the Crown. Something about being a prince and having all this weight thrust on you and something about having this weight of needed to be what Fable wants. Also icarus would scream sing this and in this essay I will- (also something about everyone else assuming the worst once they sided with Fable. Something about how "if they want me to be the villain ill be the villain")

- To ashes and blood is . oh icarus morningstar . something about burning every bridge and killing everyone they can because they need to be good and make it through to the end of this (even when they won't)

- Remember me. Something about becoming quixis and everyone forgetting and something about icarus not wanting that to happen. (But also something about Icarus losing themself when they sided with Fable and something about how they couldn't even remember themself and something about how they needed other people there (who weren't) to remind them of who they were and-)

- What have they done to us is . s3!prison duo. heart . <3 ("you're not real and I can't pretend" it's like that thing they did in tearing it down its like that thing guys it's like that thing-)

- Spin the wheel has violet vibes to me, honestly. Violet feels very comforting and calm to me and I cannot accurately articulate why specifically this song is coded to him but. Also! Ember said it was wheel not fake when I threw it at him and I have to agree here. Something about a break between it all. And for the gut punch (/hj) dare I say the drinking stream-

- Ma Meilleure Ennemie is . prison duo. that's it. they were enemies but also they're gay and also they're sad and tragic and-

- The Line !! Something about the finale something about how the portal is slowly killing them and something about how it kills them worse after Fable dies and something about how this is where they die and end and how they don't want anyone to know and. "Keep the memories of who I was before" like before Fable came and they became so desperate for his love and- mmmm. "Did I disappoint you?" Something about icarus' fear of failure and how it's just. constantly there. "Will they still let me over if I cross the line?" Something about how they didn't know how people would react after they killed Fable, something about how everything they'd done to that point had been crossing the line (something about how they only ever wanted Centross back) "sure there's nothing left to try" you know . the wack. and how they tried everything with momboo. and how it never worked. and how it's not gonna work for them.

- Wasteland . oh its so finale icarus coded. Something about how they've tried so hard for the past 5 months of their life to just survive (and how the fact they had to do that is all their fault) and how they did and they're okay with death now because at least centross is alive and at least everyone else will be okay eventually and they'll all get to survive and icarus won't be there as a stain and how they're going to die anyway and how they might as well do it themself (and how they don't want to face it because they want Centross back and they just . Can't have that) and "if it weren't for you I'd be here all alone" something about how centross kept them from being alone for so much of their time in the resets and . "I know in my heart this is where we belong" like literally ic talking to Rae before they jumped in the hole- "Don't let me go" something about how even if death woule be better for them they don't want to go and they just want more time with centross and as quixis they don't want anyone to forget them and-

yeah anyway . music thoughts go brrr

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

I’m really curious as to your opinions on each of the Gatsby films. What do you think they did right/wrong? What do you like/dislike about casting choices? If you could make your ideal Gatsby movie rendition would you take any inspo from the existing movies?

(I would add the broadway musical into that list just for the heck of it but we all know that was just funky music loosely wrapped in Gatsby paper)

Oh good heavens...

Okay. So. I'll just talk about them in order of release. And again these are my OPINIONS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT I WAS ASKED FOR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO YELLING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WILL CRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO many spoilers ahead. You have been warned.

1926

Obviously this film is lost, but we have the trailer, photos, and Fitz's own reaction to it, which was to say he and Zelda left halfway through. It's not even based off the book, either, but based off a play based off the book, so one can imagine that given the filmmaking style of the time and its disconnect from the source material, it likely wasn't the most accurate adaptation.

Accuracy isn't everything in terms of what makes an adaptation 'good'—it's definitely a factor, though, along with entertainment value, justification for any alteration to the story, attention to detail, Genuine Caring For The Source Material, acting, casting, etc...all of these go into consideration, at least for me.

The casting seems alright for this version. Daisy has dark hair. Nick's taller than Jay and visibly, uhhhhhhhhh...well, like...have you ever heard of 'gay face'? But it ends about there, as Tom looks like he's 50, Jordan is...just not right, and as is often the case, Wilson is somehow beyond 'faintly handsome'? Do they just not have enough middies running around in Hollywood?

The costumes are obviously pretty accurate, though very clearly 1926 trying to do 1922. The skirts are. UP there. And I get that jay's shirts are monogrammed but a hand-sized monogram on each jacket? What? Did they think audiences would lose track of which brunette man was which?

Here's a photo. God nick is such a cunt look at him

I can't accurately give the whole film a rating but what I know of it gives it a 6.5/10. Bonus points to jay for pushing the no white shoes after labor day rule up to the very brink.

1949

...listen.

In terms of accuracy to the book, this is not the best. It's just not. It's a star vehicle for Alan Ladd who, at the time, was popping off hardcore in the film noir market, so they fiddle faddled with the tone a bit and shot it in black and white despite having access to color, amped up the crime (jay smokes some bitches in the first five minutes??? takes a hefty swing at a man at a party????) and then said uhhhhh what book are we adapting again?

East Egg and West Egg are scrambled, which goes against the whole 'east coast/old money' vs 'westerners/new money' thing. Nick and Jordan are married in the beginning before flashing back. Nick's just not hypocritical enough in this one, either, which is bothersome, because that's the whole point of his character in the novel—that he can't see his own faults for the more glaring faults of others.

They press fast forward a lot. Like there's no drive to new york or meyer lunch—nick and jay just snuggle in his boat watching the green light and jay tries to lie to nick and nick catches him immediately and jays like AH. YA GOT ME. HA HA. ?????????

if it weren't for alan ladd I would not watch this movie. Don't get me wrong, I love Macdonald Carey as Nick, but I think playing across from anyone else, this would be entirely forgettable and borderline unwatchable.

Alan Ladd. Alan Ladd. Where do I begin with Alan Motherfucking Ladd. This man is Jay Gatsby personified. I know that's controversial because 2013 has brainwashed people into thinking jay gatsby is over six feet tall, but there is something so distinctly perfect about casting a malnourished 5'7 midwestern blonde with such intense parental issues that he never recovered from the sickness that is an impoverished American childhood as jay gatsby. Alan Ladd was underestimated, spat on, put down from day fucking one. Every single time he got ahead in life he was cut down at the knees until finally, finally he found validation and celebrity in playing these soft-spoken, angel-faced killers onsreen. Only it wasn't enough. It was never enough. It could never fill that void and he could never get ahead of himself. You want to tell me that doesn't mirror the fuck out of Jay's life? You want to tell me there was a man in Hollywood at the time who could so deeply understand this character, even through the bullshit rewrites to try and mold the story into something it wasn't? There are even accounts of him taking reporters to his bedroom to show them his closet, saying 'not bad for an okie boy'. That's Jay. That's Jay in pure essence. Never having enough, and so excited to show what he had. Literally look into his past at all and you will mourn his lack of control over the direction the film took, because I know damn good and well if he had been more than just everybody's favorite film noir star at the time and a more respected name, he could have really pushed and pulled to peel back the story and pull better performances from the rest of the cast as a result.

Bonus points for having a really fucking weird Dan Cody and Ella Kaye. Both were distinctly, visibly, vocally predatory toward Jay and it's like the directors actually looked into prior drafts, even if I know damn good and well they didn't. I don't even know if they read the damn book.

Costumes were fine. I wish wish wish wish it had just been in color (THEY COULD HAVE DONE IT.) so that we could see if jay got his pink suit. I swear to god the sight of alan ladd in a pink suit would actually kill me.

I'll give this one a 7/10 overall, points dinging for accuracy to the novel and pacing and some really weird choices, like having jay come from the rainbow division in the war (????) to making nick like...offer to spank jordan. i don member THAT from the book. Most of these points come from Alan Ladd.

Uh. Here's myrtle getting hit by the car

1974

oh boy.

Where to begin? The film is a fucking mess. It's a goddamn motherfucking mess and I can only watch it if I cut Jay and Daisy out of it entirely, which is a shame, because I love both of their characters (for different reasons) but. oh my GOD.

So they got truman capote to write the screenplay at first. unfortunately he made nick and jay skinny dip, and jordan was a vindictive lesbian, and it was 1974 so they weren't about that noise at ALL. There's other stuff in that script too and it's honestly...not a great script to begin with, but that meant they had to REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING WITH JUST WEEKS TO GO BEFORE PRODUCTION. THEY ASKED FRANCIS FORD COPPOLA (THE GODFATHER.) TO WRITE IT AND HE DID IT IN THREE WEEKS IN A HOTEL ROOM, HAVING BEEN UNFAMILIAR WITH THE BOOK, THEN CLAIMED THEY DIDN'T EVEN USE HIS SCRIPT AFTER ALL??? HUH? HUH WHUH?

you can tell. oh boy you can tell. 'jay' and 'daisy' sit around talking in silent rooms for several minutes at a time, just...expositioning all over the place. it's...astonishing.

that's another thing. i...am aware mia farrow is a beloved actress and she did wonderful things onscreen in other films but she is totally and completely unwatchable as daisy. if I knew no other adaptation, she would make me hate daisy with a blind fucking rage. it's not even that she's a bad actress in this—she just does not fit the role even a LITTLE. she's shrill and loud and like...i don't know if she's on coke or what (I mean it's the 70s.) but she just whines and flails her way through the film in an entirely undaisy sort of way. like where is this girl with the sad, lovely face and the voice that's a deathless song? her voice isn't full of money in this, it's counterfeit. she owes me a debt for making me have to listen to her. she only got the job because her name was big at the time and she just asked for it and got it, no audition, no screen test, no nothing. i wish they would have switched lois chiles into daisy's role rather than have her playing jordan, because she was just a much better match for the character.

1974 has one of my favorite toms at least. I've said it before but he's got that sort of frustrated, unsatisfied disinterest, a sort of distraction about him that really lends well to the whole notion of forever chasing down his college days and all that.

WEIRD fuckin chester mckee in this one, but points for being the first fuckin film to show my man onscreen! there's even an elevator scene in this one but it's not between nick and chester, unfortunately. though there is immense sexual tension regardless.

SPEAKING OF NICK! SAM WATERSTON MY BELOVED!!!!

Yet again another flawless casting along the lines of Alan Ladd as Jay. He's such a bitch. I don't think Nick is the same if he's not a cynical gay little cunt some of the time and despite being apparently one of the nicest people in Hollywood, sam just GETS IT. HERE is someone who floats above reproach like his shit don't stink. HERE is someone who will throw the blame on just about anyone but himself—and has to let jay into that same bubble of protection. HERE is someone who knows he's useless but is too afraid to admit it to himself because he's turning 30 and is about to face a crisis of mortality. he's judgemental and critical and somehow pulls off the sort of mind-altering gay panic nick very explicitly experiences around jay every 5 seconds in prior drafts of the book. i wish you all understood how hot nick thinks gatsby is. i wish you all knew what I know. sam waterston knows. and he gets it. he also just looks like nick. like crooked teeth and awkward nose and all. that's nick. i wanna kick him in the shins.

i gotta talk about jay's house in this one. it's bad. why does he live in a greek temple. like. nick describes jay's house in the book. he does. he's a faux provincial palace. almost a fairytale castle. that's on purpose. why. is he living in a marble box. is it supposed to be a tomb. are you making death jokes. fuck you Robert Redford

speaking of Robert Redford. did anyone let him know who he was playing in the movie or did you just hand him a script and tell him to start wherever. I get that jay isn't known for his brains but I have never seen a more confused lead in a film does he even know the camera is rolling or does he do that naturally

costuming is unmemorable and inoffensive except

YOU CALL THAT PINK? PINK?

6/10. Saved by Sam Waterston. Rendered unwatchable by Mia Farrow.

2000

OH BROTHER THIS GUY STINKS

No seriously who let the BBC do this. 5 million dollar budget and they used 4.9 of it on jordan's fuck ass bob.

I don't even know where to begin. I guess I should start at the beginning. The movie opens to Jay dead in the pool, which is the best part of the movie because he's dead.

Nothing about this film is good. I...I hate to say that because I try to find a little good in every adaptation but holy CHRIST. I have only seen this one in parts because I physically cannot sit and watch the whole thing at once.

Nick is played by Paris from Romeo+Juliet. He's not good. Even the one scene I kind of sort of like, at the end where he burns all of jay's papers(?????) is kind of undercut because HE STILL WRITES THE BOOK?? THE EXPOSE??? WHY BOTHER??? HE'S ALREADY DEAD????

I don't remember tom in this. I barely remember Jordan, but she's really, really into Nick and it's kind of upsetting to watch from a visceral standpoint. It's very uncanny valley. That's a NotJordan. the real jordan would never.

it gets worse.

Whoever thought they should cast whatever his name is as Jay—death. death to all of them. That is the most smarmy, leering, dickweed of a dude I have ever had the displeasure of existing near. It's like if the jay equivalent of people who make hating daisy their entire personality got to design jay's characterization for this film. There are no good parts to him. It's just like every single person who's boiled him down to jUsT a CrEePy StAlKeR OWO got to write a film. i would even be down for that point of view if it was well-acted and well written but UNFORTUNATELY, THE ACTING BUDGET WENT TO JORDAN'S WIG,

I can't even remember. 1974 and 2000 blend together for me.

The costuming is so bad but like. whatever. i thought I could live with it.

until.

oh dear god why does daisy have 2007 hollister hair it's 1917

you get more than one photo this time because I know most people haven't seen this film

tell me this didn't come off a CW vampire show in 2011

IS THAT RENESMEE?

SMILEDOG IS THAT YOU?

THE HAIR?

and of course, jordan's 4.9million dollar fuckass bob

Like i get it. period dramas are hard. but good fucking god. im so uncomfortable looking at every single person in this film

BONUS:

1/10 only because i get to watch NotJay die twice

i need a breather

...

2013

okay

In terms of direct, faithful adaptation, I think this one is the best. Like they didn't technically skimp on anything super major, didn't really try to put scenes in a blender. There's clearly, like. a whole script.

I'm already a Baz Luhrmann fan. I have been since the 7th grade when I saw this little movie called—

Romeo + Juliet. No, not tgg. I saw that next, though, and was obsessed. Love. Love!

I love when you can tell an adaptation is made by someone who actually cares about adapting the source material. Very key words there. Adapting. Source Material. Cares About. Because all of these other adaptations are clearly just looking to use a classic novel to make a movie but bazco clearly wanted to Adapt The Great Gatsby For Modern (At the time) Audiences.

I like a lot of the decisions made there. Casting an Indian actor as Meyer Wolfshiem—even if it goes against the explicit description of him in the book as this small beady eyed little weirdo, I think it was a better call to give a lesser-known (to American audiences) poc actor a role rather than continue digging the antisemitic hole Fitzgerald decided to dig himself for some reason.

The music too. It gets so much flack but I totally get what Baz was going for and it was honestly a little ahead of its time in 2013. To take a very White story (I could talk about the implications of Jay being mixed/black/otherwise poc all day) and apply our generation's equivalent of jazz ("oversexualized black people music") to forcing modern white audiences to face the fact that we absolutely will still sit here and find any reason to try and justify the erasure of black influence on the culture of America at any given point—it's chef's kiss. Shut the fuck up about it. I'm tired of hearing shit about the music being anachronistic. Yes, I would have loved to hear more period-accurate rejuvenated jazz covers in there. NO it would not be swing because hey bitch that too is anachronistic, it wasn't around in 1922. You can't have it both ways. Baz had a point to make and he teamed up with JAY Z to make it and yet again a bunch of white nerds got mad that they had to confront their internalized racism.

Yes, it is that deep. Everything is. To pretend it isn't is cowardice.

Anyway! The CGI pisses me off. It always will. If it's marvel or mordor I really don't give a damn, with that kind of budget you can afford some practical effects and save the CGI for moments where it can ACCENTUATE the practical effects to heighten the sense of mystification Nick undoubtedly felt upon entering this world. There's just no excuse for a lot of their effects and it's very disappointing to think of them trying to act in all these hollow blue environments.

Finally, FINALLY there's some depth to nick and jay's interactions. There's been this sort of disconnect in every other adaptation thus far and I'll give credit to Tobey Maguire and Leo DiCaprio for being friends for six thousand years before taking these roles, because the chemistry is Something Else.

that being said. tobey maguire was a really weird choice for nick carraway. I...don't really see it. I've called it Gooberfication before, as if they're sort of dumbing down his character and making him more palatable for the audience. I don't think it was an acting choice on Tobey's part but a choice made by the filmmakers themselves. There's no point in the book where Nick tries to make himself out as this friendly aw shucks ah geez scuse me ass goober, even when he's trying to claim he's like this unjudgemental dude. He lets you know outright that he'll do just about anything to get out of a conversation. He lies about his relationships, breaks up with people on a whim, is cynical and critical and has a barb to his tongue EVEN AROUND JAY (like when he considers asking to see Jay's rubies, knowing damn well he doesn't have any fuckin rubies.) And that's BEFORE jay dies. He's even worse after that, and I do appreciate the framing device of having Nick write this book while in recovery from...That Event.

which brings me to Baz Luhrmann Ships Natsby, Fuck You. He does. Oh my god. How are they queerer here than in actual fics I've written? Literal fireworks when they meet??? Nick being the one to call jay and hear the gunfire. that is his HUSBAND. "he did not know it (his dream) was already behind him" AS NICK STANDS BEHIND AN IMAGINED VERSION OF JAY. NICK HAVING TO PUT HIMSELF AWAY IN A MENTAL HOSPITAL AFTER GRIEVING HIM FOR YEARS???? BECOMING AN ALCOHOLIC INSOMNIAC WITH DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, AND FITS OF ANGER?????????????? BECAUSE HIS NEIGHBOR HE KNEW FOR THREE MONTHS DIED???????????????????????????? H. HELLO?

GOD.

Anyway. Speaking of their meeting, the song used in the background is Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin, which was professed by Fitz to have been THEE gatsby song, so that's a very nice touch. All the newspapers about Jay are written by prior Fitz characters. Even the clippings in Jay's scrapbooks attempt to add realism to the world but they...don't make sense entirely but that's fine. I know the filmmakers read at least Trimalchio but I don't know if they read the Princeton Draft. Either way, good on them.

Will never forgive this film for twinkifying Nick Carraway. Will never forgive it for planting the seed of top jay/bottom nick in the minds of the youth. I completely blame this movie for it. I don't think Jay was even topping Daisy at this point. He couldn't top a sundae. Even if he's played by Leonardo DiCaprio.

SPEAKING OF DAISY!!!!! I think Carey Mulligan did a damn good job at playing her accurately and as as much of a person as she could while still having the film's pov limited to Nick. Carey's a very good actor and she pretty clearly did her research to play Daisy, and was just very well cast. Now if the costume designers had simply allowed her to keep her natural hair color. Same with Jordan/Elizabeth Debicki. Daisy's brunette. Jordan's blonde. It's right there in the book in several places. I've talked about it forever. WHY would you go to the effort to change your actors' appearances when they were already accurate? Why? Why? Are you incapable of imagining a desirable woman who isn't blonde?

that being said, all jordan bakers should be 6'3. Elizabeth debicki, no notes.

tom's fine in this one. myrtle and George are too. chester actually gets to like. appear onscreen and try to get nick into the bedroom but UGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH of COURSE there's no elevator scene because nothing is ever fair or right or good. that's not MY chester (iykyk) but it is certainly A chester which is better than NO chester.

I would like to say that the Plaza scene in this film is the best of any of them. I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jay was at a point in his health that if Wilson hadn't killed him, a heart attack would, and that's precisely the behavior exhibited in 2013's plaza scene. This is a man who has been twisting himself up into a tighter and tighter ball his entire life and has now just fucking sprung open because he's realized this is it, this is the end, everything I have done has been entirely pointless and I'm about the lose the one last fucking thing I have to live for and it's my fault because everything has been since the day I was born. Like I won't say it's 'mask off' and this would have been some sort of normal explosive behavior for him if he did end up getting to 'keep' daisy (because obviously shes An Object,,,,, right,,,,) but this...was coming regardless of whether tom dragged it out of him or not. it really exhibits just how much was going on behind the scenes that not even nick was privy to. just imagine how much pressure wolfshiem put on him in the end to keep going, keep working, as if his life isn't on the cusp of completely turning upside down.

(putting a space here because tumblr got mad about how much I wrote.)

that's one tiny little thing I absolutely adore about 2013. it's a blink and you'll miss it moment where meyer AND GOONS are in jay's office and he asks jay what's going on. It's so simple but so fucking menacing. it's so subtle. the implication that meyer has jay in a chokehold and the more time he spends with daisy, the more meyer gets pissed, and the more meyer gets pissed, the more likely he'll cut jay out of the business entirely, and jay's holding on to this tiny little string of assurance that he can manage it all for daisy and it's worth it for daisy and he's still the pretty face for the front of the company and meyer NEEDS him for that and if meyer needs him then it'll be okay, he can balance daisy and the business it'll be FINE—until it isn't, obviously. he originally turned daisy down when she suggested running away because all his money is tied up with meyer and if he runs, either meyer will track him down and kill him because he knows too much or he has to start over again. of course eventually he comes around to realize that running is their only option but it's too late and he knows that by the time he blows up at the plaza. he hit his breaking point and ruined everything. and leonardo DiCaprio is the only one who I think really captured just how fucking wound up jay really was.

I'm not talking about the broadway musical anymore

but if i were to make my own gatsby film...

I've never actually thought about it enough to pin down a cast. I have, however, considered that if for whatever reason I was given the opportunity to make any sort of adaptation of it, I'd probably have a black Jay regardless, and I think Ncuti Gatwa would be a really fun choice. Look at him. Imagine you're drunk and gay and this is across the table. Nick I get it.

I would try to keep in line with the book as best I could, though, because it's important to me. I live and breathe the history of this novel and I can see all the lives woven into each minute detail and I would hate to not do it justice.

...

Otherwise...I do spend hours a day daydreaming about turning Gatsby into a limited series a la Anne with an E, albeit more adult in nature due to the subject matter. But I can see it in my head so clearly. I wish wish wish I could. Maybe one day. If only.

[moonspirit]

Since we’ve been talking about ambassadors on edibles, I’ll use my knowledge to portray each of them while on mars XD

-Annie: girl goes catatonic and you can’t convince me otherwise. She just sits on the couch staring into the void with a frown and occasionally registering some conversations around, not participating tho.

-armin: a giggling mess. Every words is funny, so funny that when the joke’s over he forgets to loosen the smile and close his mouth. “You’re friggin bald Connie heheee”. At some point he throws up.

-Connie: existential bliss. “Man…we’re having such a good time, like, I’m so baked bro…like…i could go watch the stars and fall asleep there cause it’s so paceful…man hand a brownie over cmon”

-Reiner: existential awareness. Man would realize he lives in a society. In such confusional state, he would find out that he exists. Paradoxical, I know. But he’s free from the thoughts. He’s free from the anxiety. Behind those eyes, realization: he loves these people that are with him. No other thoughts than peace and love.

-Jean: no thoughts behind those eyes. Bro is convinced he lives in a simulation so he doesn’t fight it, rides the wave. Sometimes tries to get up and do something, but he only stumbles around until he’s forced to sit back down.

-pieck: falls asleep five minutes in. Has the time of her life

I could do the whole cast istg they’re too funny😭

Omg Lmaooooo xD These are all so funny asksaashfaf xD

I snorted at Reiner's xD

Man would realize he lives in a society. In such confusional state, he would find out that he exists.

If that isn't accurate!!! What a good change from the anxiety over not wanting to exist. 💀💀

Also I'm positive Pieck conducts Santa Claus style-deliveries on reindeer powered sleigh over the Arctic Circle in her sleep. Well that, and a bank robbery.

[tvckerwash]

I like to think that during pfl (using his s9 characterization, not s10) wash is the guy you go to when you want to know something (ah la a line in the fall of reach novel I believe where chief says the enlisted personnel always seem to know stuff bc wash is clearly enlisted).

he's in a position where he's privy to information from the higher-ups, and he's friendly enough with the lower rungs that he knows the gossip going around. as a bonus though, wash ain't no narc, so if you want that information you need to offer him something of equivalent exchange (consequently fueling the 'guy who knows things' thing). for example, north had to tell him about using equipment in the field in order to get him to tell him what his meeting with internals was about.

wash isn't the only guy who knows things, of course, but he's the guy who has the widest base of general knowledge. ct is also someone who knows things, but she's a lot more specific, and what she lacks in scale she more than makes up for with how in-depth her knowledge is. wash is where you learn about something from, ct is where you get all the juicy details (to the point of it almost being tmi). she also has an equivalent exchange policy, but people tend to be a bit more reluctant to get information from her because of what her knowledge is (and the borderline 'insane conspiracy theorist' energy doesn't help either).

florida? well...you don't wanna know what he knows. the cost is simply too high.

[mbat]

this was an idea i had last year that i found in my files and decided to revive. woe, angst be upon ye

[cerealmonster15]

Hello!! :D if you’re still taking art reqs for the drawing meme maybe 1A or 2A for Autumn Oak/Linda Stampler please?

THANK YOU!!! :] 

YES this is how i know i've made it as a dndads fanartist - the rite of passage of receiving the autumn/linda request jsklfjdsl MILESTONE ACHIEVED!!!

i had to kinda fumble around my brain a bit to come up w/some designs so maybe theyll change!! who knows!!!

[send a pose prompt!]

[pocketramblr]

fae court but it's a legal court, changelings are fae they leave in place of human jurors during the trial because it's the best way to prevent the trial from just becoming a bunch of fairies trying to one up the best bargain for their vote with the accused

[nonsense-is-everywhere]

@tragiccomedyenthusiast MERRY NEW YEAR! Er- Happy Christmas!

Hav. gift.

Click for. quality.

Look! It’s your little gals.

Ferris was really fun to draw… Also was thinking that Viv would probably say something like, Be still me heart, cus she just seems like she would <3

Also small doodle I did. Popped into my head when u talked more bout them.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

No but something I love is how fucking loyal Miklan really is (in Hopes specifically since we don't have enough information in Houses).

At the camp, he takes his job seriously. Very seriously. He doesn't act begrudging or like he's just doing anything by force. As the chapters go on he not only goes from relatively aloof to a full fledged commander (which is great development in that span of chapters btw considering how fast the story has to progress) and one who fights for Faerghus because he wants to (why would he reassure the player that he's going to, literally, hold down the fort? Why doesn't he flee when his life is in immediate danger despite that Dimtiri prefers his allies to flee and save their lives over sacrificing themselves? Why does he like helping citizens who had their lands destroyed by the war, despite being a bandit who used to plunge towns just like those?).

At any time when the Empire was attacking, he could've surrendered and even joined their side because of not liking Faerghus and its people... if he didn't like Faerghus and its people. Also, someone brought this up to me once that Miklan likely has family in the Empire still, because his mother was from the Empire. He had a perfectly good out that wouldn't even necessarily be considered treason to Faerghus, i.e. surrendering and going to the Empire to protect that side of his family.

He doesn't. He dies for Faerghus. It was both a matter of honor due to the fact that he was finally living the life he always should've been and wanted to be respected for that, and also his loyalty that followed in the past's wrongs being righted. No matter what you think of Miklan post disinheritance, he was the heir who was removed because he didn't have a Crest. All over just that, despite that Sylvain having a Crest never meant they didn't still have someone capable of fighting off Sreng invasions.

They had someone able to wield the Lance of Ruin, so why did it matter if he was officially the heir? Miklan felt like his life was stolen from him (and I'm not saying what he did to Sylvain was okay either). Dimitri gave him all of that back and he started to become loyal to Faerghus and its king because Dimitri was giving the chance even the man's own father never gave him from the moment Sylvain was determined to have a Crest.

What happened in his life before Dimitri had him brought to him as soon as he became king is, in a way, almost like it never happened as far as Miklan's behavior. It was obviously there at first, but over time it's like it never happened. That is, if someone met him and didn't know about his past, by chapter 9 they'd never even know he'd had that history. He was the person he would've been years ago if he hadn't been disinherited, which led to the mess that led to him being disowned (and he says he just "left", but Matthias doesn't mince facts. At all. If that had been the case he wouldn't just say he disowned him. He would admit Miklan ran away. That means Miklan claims he left as a means of coping and trying to convince other people that it was his choice and not forced on him).

Miklan became a lot more loyal than he's ever given credit for, both in the game and in the fandom. Gwendal did recognize it, but that's about all we're given.

Gwendal corrected himself when Miklan died, referring to him instead as Sir Miklan instead of the insults he was spewing during their fight which were very clearly pissing Miklan off; but Miklan kept fighting and defending the fort, not just because he wanted to prove Gwendal wrong but because he was here because he was pulled out of his life as a bandit. The people he was defending the fort for were the people who effectively gave him his life back.

Basically, he would've been there in that fort defending it anyway if he had lived the life he should have to begin with. If his value was acknowledged all along, he would've been defending the most important fort in Faerghus all along (if this exact scenario occurred and everything was the same except him being disowned in the first place). He would be there being the commander and fighter he was supposed to be.

Mind you, it was the king himself who gave him that chance, meaning the person who reigns over Faerghus and has the most power to change whatever the hell he wants - including how people with Crests and without are treated. Miklan was part of a fight to better their society and be part of the new generation taking over. Nobody could truly change things unless the king - the top power - had the thought to change them (not saying Lambert thought the political climate was good the way it was, but he clearly had other priorities and it didn't seem to be something weighing on his mind. He may not have even truly noticed the problems and power discrepancies because he was so focused on other things).

However, the moment the king thought to change all that old stuff, Miklan was one of the first people who came to mind, and one of the first people he took action regarding, to integrate into his new army (and he even mentioned completely rearranging his army and whatnot, and then we find out he had Miklan located basically right after becoming king. We had a two year timeskip and Miklan had been there for those two years because of how soon after Dimitri was crowned that he had decided to bring Miklan back and give him another chance).

If the king sought to change things and was taking active action to prove it, that was something Miklan could see and realize was actually going to happen. It wasn't a blind trust - he could see Dimitri was actually doing it. He had a reason to be able to trust him with this.

He was also able to trust the people who were watching over him, i.e. the people Dimitri had making sure he didn't revert back to any sort of banditry. Those people could have easily faked it, made up that he did something and that they had killed him on the spot. Dimitri trusted those people not to do that of course, but those people were not told to bring him to Dimitri if he did anything. They were told to apprehend him and kill him immediately (which is reasonable, given what he'd done in the past, and they wouldn't want to try to wait to get Dimitri over to wherever they were. If Miklan escaped in that time, they'd just have a big problem on their hands).

So that is to say, those people could've just faked it at any point and killed him. They didn't. They, like Dimitri, were willing to give him another chance provided he didn't do anything bad.

The same goes for Felix and everyone else who had qualms about him being allowed into their army. Dimitri explicitly stated if anyone had issues with his appointment as a commander to "by all means" kill him themselves. He literally made it an open option for his friends to just up and kill him if they truly couldn't forgive him (which at that point was more reasonable of a time because the war was still new and people didn't know if they could trust him with this specific appointment yet. By later in the story I don't think it would have been as reasonable for someone to try to kill him after he'd already been proving himself).

In other words, nobody did it. Everyone, literally everyone, backed off and respected Dimitri's decision (and technically Sylvain and Matthias' as well). None of those people, even when given open opportunity, turned a weapon on him. Not one. These people all gave him a chance. These are the same people he died fighting for, and for himself to be able to feel like he was fighting and dying for what he would have to begin with if he hadn't been disinherited - Faerghus and its people.

In the end Miklan was in both rank and heart a top ranking commander of Faerghus and he both appreciated it and knew he appreciated it. He was looking forward to the future Dimitri would bring, basically saying that he thinks Dimitri is a fool ("weak-willed") for it but that he now believes in it too. If anyone wants to try arguing those points, I have receipts as the young folk call them, fresh from Miklan himself about his feelings about it as spoken to Catherine and Shamir!

Miklan fought for the future he was hoping to see, and he died protecting that future. Again, not something he by any means whatsoever had to do. He was tasked with guarding the fortress, but was never told to lay down his life defending it. After years and years of being hateful and angry, he finally had some peace of mind and hope for what he could be. He was loyal to Dimitri in the end because Dimitri was loyal to him - that is, he kept his word and Miklan was able to thrive in Dimitri's society without being a bandit or having to worry about his future because of his status.

Like Dimitri said, the only thing holding him down by that point were his past mistakes. It was up to Miklan to do something about that for himself with the opportunity he was given to fix it. Dimitri said here, fix it, and Miklan said okay, and worked to fix it. For me the saddest part is that he didn't even get enough time to properly fix it and be able to be free of his past. He died for Faerghus though, with his dying words being that he was able to buy them time (to arrive and fight back against the attacking Empire). That's not something someone who holds a resentful grudge would say in their last moments. He was grateful he managed to buy the other fighters time, even though it cost him his life.

hopes was a dumpster fire a whole lot of times but its incorporation of miklan into the plot was not one of them. miklan fire emblem my love you will live on in my heart and in my fics. i am also deeply grateful to hopes for uh i guess hopes-canonizing (hopesonizing???) basically every one of my headcanons about him before the game came out.

[ice-reblogs]

I finished them! It only took me forever

These boys are from the "Celestial Canines" AU made by @0-g-i !

Let me tell you- I fell head over fucking heals for these two when I saw them. It was love at first sight

Sun and Moon? As Werewolves? You just put two of my favorite things together. You were asking for it

I did say I couldn't promise not to draw them~

Close ups! Please click for better quality and for full image! (As it's kinda cropped, curse you tumblr)

[aeolids-zenith]

i hate posts that are supposed to be positivity for people who lack friends or that say that social connections are like unexpectedly inevitable/straightforward to make or something, but then like. don't elaborate on how that is possible. it always just makes me feel more hopeless

[dabihawksluvr]

I HAVE MADE REESE KELLY AS AN AI CHARACTER!

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