#or an expensive statue that might not ever manifest

[fallloverfic]

I know Netflix is garbage, but I am so tired of all the bullshit with official Nocturne Olrox merch. He's available on precisely two (technically three if you count the blu-ray) things: a blind box keychain set where you have a 1 in 11 chance to get him and it's over $100 to get an assured chance of getting him, and an expensive statue. So we've got gambling, and now Dark Horse Direct had manufacturing issues and have had to cancel pre-orders for the statue (though they've said they're going to put up pre-orders for it again soon).

Like... could you idiots at Netflix just design more merch of him? He's really popular.

(Yes, I'm aware fan merch exists, but I would also love official merch where I can get it)

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

what do you think of the rumors about Aemond's possible betrayal of Aegon in Ep4?

Oh do I have a lot to say about this one! So here's the thing. A possible Rook's Rest betrayal situation has been a long running theory among F&B readers even before the show. In the book, Vhagar slams into Sunfyre and Meleys from above while the two are locked together fighting, and they all crash to the ground. It's unclear whether Aemond slammed them both because Vhagar was too big to maneuver in a precise way, or if he was intentionally trying to harm his brother. It's ambiguous, but when Aegon is badly injured, Aemond becomes prince regent and declares the crown looks better on him than it ever did on his brother. In Aemond's favor, he did not declare himself king, but it's also the case that in the book, Aegon had a second son, so Aemond wasn't his heir either. Declaring himself king would have been a direct usurpation of Maelor even if Aegon himself died. We also know that at the end of the Dance Aegon wanted statues made of both his brothers, Aemond and Daeron, so Aegon himself likely did not believe Aemond was responsible for his injuries. But it is ambiguous, and book!Aemond does turn out to be not very smart and not much of a team player, so in and of itself, I don't actually mind the betrayal theory so much. But I would prefer it remain a theory, that is, keep it ambiguous, but even if it is an outright betrayal, it's the execution and motivation which concern me.

In the show, Aemond has a very clear second son syndrome. Whether it's true or not, he certainly thinks he's smarter, better, more dutiful, and of course on top of all that, he has the largest dragon. Show!Aegon, on the other hand, is insecure and struggling with depression, alcoholism, and a big case of imposter syndrome. He's impulsive and reactive, wasn't properly prepared to be king, didn't particularly want to be king, but now that he is king, he's desperate not to fail. In the events leading up to the war, Aemond kills Luke in a moment that seems more rash than calculated, and this ultimately leads to Aegon's small son being decapitated by Blood and Cheese in revenge, throwing him deep into grief and rage. On top of that, Aegon is feeling undermined by his council, including Aemond, and Larys is planting the seeds of mistrust between Aegon and his brother. It's absolutely reasonable for there to be some resentment between the two and some unresolved issues that might manifest on the battlefield. Would these issues lead to an actual attempted murder? Eh, I tend to think that, in the spirit of leaving it ambiguous, Aemond might have the passing thought that he could totally "accidentally" allow Aegon to come to harm. He might even hesitate just long enough that Meleys is able to seriously wound Aegon or Sunfyre before he joins in, causing him to feel a great deal of guilt. This is my preferred scenario.

The problem I have is with how the show is framing it so far. I've never been a fan of the way the bullying storyline seemed to humanize Aemond at Aegon's expense, but it now appears as if it's being used as a motivation or justification for Aemond betraying Aegon at Rook's Rest, as well as his general shift to a darker character, which I find cliched and disappointing. At this point Aemond is a grown man by all Westerosi standards, and despite their issues, we've seem Aegon display loyalty towards Aemond more than we've seen him "bully" him. They're siblings, they're going to fight and bicker and tease, but we've seen nothing from Aegon so far that would justify murder. Maybe if your brother is going through the worst thing a person can possibly experience, losing his son in a murder that, while not your fault, happened as a retribution for your actions, perhaps you could grant him some grace, even if he makes some obnoxious comments in a brothel. I've seen so many takes which basically amount to "Aegon had it coming" as if we haven't seen Aegon absolutely distraught over the death of his child, receiving no emotional support from his family, least of all Aemond himself, and spiraling back into alcoholism and reckless behavior. Now is really not the time to get pissy about teasing. It's not about you, Aemond. A child is dead.

And in fact, we've seen Aegon be supportive of Aemond on screen in ways that we generally haven't seen Aemond support Aegon. Aegon speaks up on Aemond's behalf, inviting him into the council when Alicent wants to shut him out, and we've seen him support Aemond's battle plans, even though we know Cole and Aemond have been planning behind Aegon's back. In S1 we've seen Aegon have Aemond's back at dinner with Rhaenyra's family, and going even further back, we've seen Aegon allow Aemond to throw him under the bus about the bastard comments, taking the fall even though he was not the culprit. There is certainly jealousy and rivalry there from both sides, but as much as Aegon is an ass, it is clear he loves his brother.

Also, I think some fans, perhaps because the well was poisoned against Aegon in S1 in ways that his character has struggled to recover from, tend to read everything Aegon does uncharitably and ignore some of Aemond's more questionable behavior, granting him grace that they do not grant others. I rarely see critical analysis about Aemond the way I do about Aegon, so I'm going to be frank here for a moment. Aemond is only the "good" brother to Aegon's "bad" brother because we haven't seen him at his worst yet, but the potential is there for him to be so much worse than Aegon could ever be. Show!Aemond is thin skinned, self-centered, and a bit of a "can dish it out but can't take it" type. Aemond's assholery is more subtle (for example, Aemond's patronizing little "that's a brave thought" to Aegon in council), whereas Aegon's is loud and obnoxious, but Aemond knows how to make his insults pointed and hurtful ("Strong boys" toast, you will die screaming in flames like your father). And look no further than his reaction to Blood and Cheese to see his egotism in action. In this moment when he's supposed to be showing some level of vulnerability with the madame, he's talking about how honored he is that sempai Daemon noticed him. Mind you, this notice is what resulted in the death of his four year old nephew. His "remorse" over killing Lucerys amounts to "I do regret that business with Luke," while immediately following up with his justification, citing how they used to tease him for not having a dragon. Sincere remorse involves examining your own actions without immediately justifying them or centering yourself, and in that moment I felt no remorse from Aemond, or even sympathy for what his killing of Luke might have unleashed upon the family. Aemond hasn't even mentioned Helaena once post-B&C, and you'd think that even if he doesn't feel sorry for Aegon, surely he'd show some sympathy for his innocent sister? And yet, nothing.

So while I can't say it would be necessarily out of character for the Aemond they've been giving us in S2, I don't really like this take on Aemond at all, and I just don't find this supposed grudge against Aegon a particularly compelling justification for attempted murder. While the bullying storyline humanized Aemond in S1 as a child, keeping it going now, as a motive for harming his brother and his brother's dragon, which, lets be clear, would absolutely fuck over his entire faction, is ridiculous and unnecessary, and really kind of saps any goodwill I might have had for Aemond. I don't have any sympathy for someone who was rather mildly teased and decides his brother deserves to die for it, and it makes me feel incredibly sad for Aegon who is just getting dumped on by his entire family to the point where it's honestly kind of hard to watch. There is plenty of drama inherent in the situation already as-is. If this happened because of tensions over Storm's End and Blood and Cheese, it would still be stupid for Aemond to do, but Aemond has never been as smart as he thinks, and it would frame the betrayal in the context of the ways Aegon and Aemond have hurt each other. However, if it is framed as Aegon's comeuppance for being an asshole, Aemond's Joker moment where he goes fully dark in some sort of bullying revenge plot that he decides to enact in the middle of a war? Honestly, forget building gigantic gold covered statues, I'd be burning effigies.

[ukfrislandembassy]

I think that conlangs are a very useful way of seeing how the biases of linguistic theory manifest when applied by amateurs (and occasionally professionals). When linguists are promoting their theories they often like to make the claim that they can account for all phenomena, even if there's some clear foci for their actual attention. So the outputs of conlanging as a hobby make an interesting case study of the application of these theories, because the theories bias the kinds of structures conlangers actually end up including in their languages.

Specifically, it seems clear to me that internet-based conlangers especially show the clear effects of the assumptions made by what Jim Blevins terms the 'Post-Bloomfieldian Structuralism' that has been the default mode of linguistic analysis and theorising for decades now.

In phonology this manifests with the focus on phonemes and phoneme inventories, partly at the expense of phonotactics but especially phonetics. The result of this is a flattening of phonological structure; each of these phonemes ends up being tret as a unit of equal status within the system, with any kinds of distributional asymmetries between phones only included as an afterthought by means of some phonological rules.

It's why you get channels like Conlang Critic on Youtube pronouncing each of the individual phonemes of a conlang like that tells you what you need to know about the actual sound of a language. I rarely see any kind of restricted distribution or positional neutralisation of the kind seen in e.g. the Mandarin Chinese palatal series.

Morphology is where this kind of fixation most strongly manifests, because morphemes are an even worse fit for the morphological phenomena of natural languages than phonemes are for phonological phenomena. In effect what this leads to is the same kind of atomisation that we see with phonology; all 'morphemes' are tret as having equal status in the system, so you end up with a morphological system that just comes off as a phonologically more bound version of the syntax (but with more lists).

For instance, when was the last time you saw a conlang that made use of the concept of 'stem'? Or which showed syncretism between cells in paradigms? Have you ever seen a conlang that made use of a morphological pattern that could be considered 'morphomic'? I could go on.

None of these are somehow 'strange' or 'exotic' phenomena; they're found to some extent in pretty much all Romance languages, perhaps most elaborately in French, and much of this also crops up all over Germanic too.

I think there might be some of this tendency in the lexicon too; homophony and polysemy seem oddly infrequent in conlangs, even though they're ubiquitous in natlangs (English I/eye and you/ewe are particularly neat for showing that not even pronouns are safe from this). I've not got as much to say on this as I don't tend to pay so much attention to conlang lexicons, so I could be wrong on this one.

The actual relationship of conlangs to linguistic theory is messy, and I'm acutely aware that this is largely anecdotal. Indeed, plenty of experienced conlangers make a point of highlighting at least some of these issues, and there's definitely conlangs that avoid many of these issues (Siwa/Siųa is a good one for this, you'll have to dig through the thread to get to the actual grammar). My intent here is mainly to get some discussions going, because the real question is actually 'how do we get the conlang community to understand these phenomena and make use of them at the kinds of rates that we actually find in natural languages (which is pretty much any language with morphology, with maybe a couple of exceptions)?'

[janus-cadet]

Tarot Project - N°33

This is yet another tarot card- strangely, the first I drew for the MCU. Obviously, it was motivated by the ending of the last show I saw, which did not left me indifferent.

(it broke me and I'll never be the same again)

So here is Loki, burdened with glorious purposes, as The Magician.

(If you haven't see the season yet and are avoiding spoilers, don't look for the explanation under the cut!)

For starters, the Magician is said to be the conduit that converts energy into matter. He represents worldly experience and knowledge ; he has seen it all, experience it all, and acts at the gateway between spiritual and material realms- just like would be a God trapped in the roots of Yggdrasil, all seeing, all creating. He is the root of the whole tarot- having access to the symbols of each suits : Wands, Swords, Cups, Pentacles. The Magician has unlimited potential, is manifestation at its best : who else to embody that, than the God of Stories, the most powerful being in the universe? Timely was right- truly a magician.

But that's not all. Let's start with the meaning of the card, upright.

As the master manifestor, the Magician brings you -you, person living in any timelines ever- the ressources and energy you need to make your own choice. He's giving you a chance. Like him, you might be facing changes, new ideas that challenge who you were: it's now time to act on them. The skills (maybe time magic ?) and knowledges (perhaps your brand new sciency PhD) you have gathered along your life path have led you where you are now. You must have a clear vision of the goal you are trying to achieve. It is not enough to be motivated by ego, money, status or fame, by a throne. When you are clear about your "what", your "why"... your "who"... you will be able to take actions. You are powerful, you are a creative being: you can reach, now, your highest potential. Focus on the ONE thing that will truly motivate you. Be active. Be a tree.

Reversed, the card can indicate that are still uncertain. You know that you have to take action, but are uncertain of the course it must take. You are afraid of what you might loose, what path you need to choose; be patient, be attentive- the solution will manifest itself in time, when you'll be ready to accept it. If you are already acting on your goal, the Magician Reversed can be a sign that you are struggling to see progress and success (perhaps because of some annoying Avengers who refuse to accept your perfectly reasonnable demands ; perhaps you can't make yourself kill that one person to save the rest.) Maybe you are not clear on your desired outcome; maybe your effort are misdirected, unfocused. You may be lacking conviction. Perhaps the goal you're going after is not the one you actually need, or even want. Are you sure you want that throne ? Are you aware of the price coming with any glorious purpose ?

At its worst, the Magician Reversed signifies manipulation and trickery. You may be masterful at manifesting, but you are lost, and you may only do it for personal gain and at the expense of others. Does it feels off? Maybe. It might means you were made to work for the highest good, before you find yourself lost. Remember your "why", remember your "who". You have many skills, talents, capabilities, but your real potential is not being maximized. You have to ask yourself- what needs to change for you to reach your full potential? What do you crave the most? You can't lie to yourself: you have to be honest, as painful as it might be. You have to be ready to do what it takes to reach your most important goal.

If, in the end, it matters most to see your friends having a shot at life, at happiness, than it matters to not be alone- then, you know what you have to do.

With that, I conclude my explanation. Only one more card, and I'll be done with the Major Arcana!

(Just like Marvel is done with Loki a h)

I hope you liked it. You, yes, you who is still reading! Thank you for that.

[arisenreborn]

∞ Arisen & Pawn Character Introductions

Part 2 (of 3)!!! The long Q&A stuff for Olivia. I get way too long-winded so I'm divvying them up. 😂 (Part 1 || Part 3) [template]

1. What was their life like before becoming Arisen?

Olivia was born to the Tramont family, a noble family who have historically sworn themselves to the knighthood and service of Vermund. While women becoming knights isn't exactly unheard of, Olivia, however, was expected to marry to further secure their households status, and bear sons-who-would-become-knights. Olivia, however, thought this was bullshit. She trained in relative secret from a young age, spying on her older brother or the knights training grounds and mimicking their actions, or reading extensively on technique and strategy. Nevertheless, her defiant inclinations manifested plenty enough elsewhere to make her relationship with most of her family strained. She was vocal against the increasingly useless nature of the nobility, or how they turned a blind eye to the suffering of people beyond the noble quarters. Meanwhile her parents wanted her to dress up and appeal to those very self-serving nobles to better secure their families position; while they'd historically ascended to nobility through valiant deeds, the other part of this had been strategic marriages. Unfortunately for her, she did enjoy dressing up and going to parties, frivolous and hedonistic as any teenage girl might be. When there came to be talks of an arrangement between her and the Regentkin, however, she secretly enlisted with the knights. To avoid scandal, talks of marriage were dropped, and her father could do naught but quietly allow her to continue, but she was all but effectively disowned. On the surface they continued to support her (financially, most crucially), but otherwise all familial ties have been cut.

2. How do they handle being Arisen, and the responsibilities that come with it?

Before she regains her memories it's immensely confusing, though she does get through that (relatively small) period of time well enough on a sort of muscle memory. Despite their estrangement, her family was hard-pressed not to give their full support of a daughter who had become Arisen - though playing their pieces just right against Disa's scheme is crucial. They spared no expense seeking out a means of undoing the curse that stole Olivia's memories, and though it wasn't entirely flawless, it was enough to restore her. Since then, she's taken the title with pride and enthusiasm, seeing it as a sort of 'proof of her worthiness', that she's right to eschew the schemers and self-serving nobility, that the pursuit of her path to help and protect was all but ordained. Alas it is more complicated than she could have ever dreamed, but she's very stubbornly against complaining about the burdens of her duty. Least of all one that 'freed' her from so many of her past shackles. Never mind the shiny new ones.

3. What are their thoughts on Pawns in general?

Admittedly simple and straightforward (hah). She mislikes the mistreatment they often receive, but this isn't significantly different from her dislike of anyone's mistreatment. Initially she sees them akin to the ideal form of uncorrupted soldiers and knights: noble warriors pledged to a grand cause, more or less. So at first she regards them the same way she would knights under her command, in an official capacity, with a sense of authority and responsibility any commanding officer might have. But see: Olivia isn't really that serious. She has an ideal of knighthood and also an understanding of the reality of it, and she falls somewhere outside of both. She aspires to the ideal, is affronted at the oft times corrupt or otherwise unpleasant reality, but is a little too capricious to actually embody an example of the former. So, as she travels with them (and especially deals with Emrys) her true colors balance out; she likes having fun and laughing with them, getting drinks and delighting in their stories. Less a band of knights and more a simple group of friends. Through these interactions her understanding of them and their plight grows, though she isn't really sure what she can do to change things for them...

4. What’s their relationship like with their main Pawn?

Whew, boy. Complicated. Starting out she trusted him implicitly, finding his relaxed and friendly nature comfortable and easy to get along with. This was true for a time, until shortly after her memories were restored. Then she gradually started to notice that some of his remarks seemed less humorous than they seemed at first glance, or that he often shirked responsibilities to other pawns where he could. Which was fine, to an extent, except she couldn't shake a discomforting feeling at times. Among the nobility, being able to tell who regarded you with distaste was a very useful skill in navigating political webs, and her alarms were going off, though she couldn't tell just why. Eventually discovering that most all of it was a lie and that he hated her for almost no other reason than the fact she was Arisen was more hurtful than she would have anticipated. She's dealt with a lot of people disliking or disapproving of her over the years, but she'd really come to rely on and trust him by this point, and it didn't seem like the sort of thing (initially) that they could just 'talk it out'. She loathes that she feels 'weak' and 'helpless' about it. It's not something she can solve with her usual methods, and while often she'd have moved on and not cared what others thought of her, she found herself caring very much about this strange, belligerent pawns opinion and feelings towards her. It took quite some time, and a lot of bumps along the way, but she did come to recognize and understand his feelings for her were far more complicated and not actually about her. She loves and cherishes him dearly, and wishes to stay by his side and help him finally move forward past the long-lingering scars of his past.

5. Do they have any interest in being Sovran? What are their opinions on the politics of the world in general?

Oh, absolutely. Becoming Sovran would mean she could change and fix so many things! Though she knows that's a little naive, she does have a strong belief she could change things for the better with that kind of influence. As she travels she begins to have doubts, or maybe 'cold feet', about just how much work she'd actually have to do, but ultimately it only further strengthens her resolve.

6. Who are their love interest(s) and/or closest friends?

Olivia is polyamorous and very open and honest about her romantic and intimate relationships (because they do vary in terms of how romantic/intimate they are at times). Her and Emrys are partners in every sense of the word -he shares similar inclinations after all- but by the end have come to a basic understanding that 'at the end of the day, they go home together'. Though sometimes they're both in bed with Wilhelmina, when she's in town. She has a... frankly long list of close friends, friends with benefits, lovers, and everything in between, spanning to before her time as the Arisen and into the over-year-long journey as Arisen. But she never pursues anything without everyone being on the same page. This would get way too long if I got into the specifics of every single relationship, because there are a lot of different nuances for each one, but maybe I'll do another write-up on that alone some time. Needless to say she's very friendly and outgoing and people are drawn to her, so she has lots of both. Though one note is that she's on good terms with Sven, they had a ??? bumpy history (mostly from her perspective he was clueless), but outside of their families arrangements she sees him as a dear friend and ally.

7. What drew them to their preferred vocation? Do they have history with it?

Growing up in a family of knights and having an idealized dream vision of knighthood will make you pick up a sword and shield. Later she would dabble in other arts, but above all being in melee is where she thrives.

8. Do they have any hobbies? Any way of relaxing between all that monster-slaying and traveling?

Monster-slaying and traveling IS her way of relaxing. Actually, before becoming Arisen she hadn't traveled a whole lot, and while it was kind of there in the back of her head, it wasn't a super prevalent thing in her aspirations (it would likely be a necessity as part of knighthood, but beyond that, not much consideration). So actually traveling and getting to see the wider world (getting to see it from the back of a griffin) really opened her eyes to how wondrous and amazing an experience it is. Having a super competent traveler like Emrys around certainly helps a lot, too, she might not have enjoyed it so much if not for that. 😅 Otherwise she loves dressing up and indulging in finer things from time-to-time, collecting pretty trinkets and beautiful dresses - and of course going to events requiring such things. Though she's just at home in a dingy tavern drinking men twice her size under the table. (Though she likely won't be walking home in a straight line.) Overall she enjoys socializing and being around other people. Also, ever since she was a child she loved playing in the fields outside of Vernworth, climbing trees or "playing" with the oxen (mostly just watching them, but once or twice she definitely climbed on them resulting in... antics). Nowadays she doesn't pester the livestock so much, but she does enjoy running through the fields and feeling like a kid again.

[blacksunscorpio]

Aphrodite No. 1388

Have you ever found yourself inexplicably fascinated with Hollywood sex symbols, fashion, arts, or general glamor? You've probably chalked it up to your Venus placement or stellium in the 2nd or 7th [The houses Venus rules] but what if I told you that might not be the only reason?

Yes, Asteroid Aphrodite No. 1388 is the placement you may want to peep. Especially if she's making prominent placements or aspects to your inner planets. Note: Pay attention to conjunctions/squares/oppositions the most and orbs within 0-3 degrees. Trines and sextiles are of note but only if they are respecting inner planets, the ascendant, and at the aforementioned degrees.

So let's get into it:

Aphrodite in Mythology

was the goddess of sex, love, beauty, passion, fertility, prosperity, and procreation. She was also patron goddess of prostitutes and believed no one should leave this world a virgin. She was wife of the god Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths and fire but also the most notable lover of Ares [her 'Soul mate'. So what does she represent in the birth chart?

All of the above.

Asteroid Aphrodite in her elevated expression is all about love, beauty, talent, and sex appeal. She is compassionate and generous. Independent, strong in her femininity, and charming. This asteroid has the ability to see beauty in everything and has an innate knack for creativity and artistic talents. A developed and healthy expression of sexuality and passion [not the toxic kind but the kind true love stories are made of]. She's all positive pleasure and sensuality. Body positivity and healthy expressions of sex.

In her base or lower expression, she's a bit like a toxic Lilith. She'll manifest as using attractiveness for underhanded means. Infidelity, repression of the sexual drive, callousness in love or arrogance based on vanity, vanity in general, sexual manipulation, fickleness, fixation of impossible standards of beauty, or superficiality regarding aesthetics. [Basically everything wrong with fashion and beauty today.] She can also manifest in the 6th house and/or ill-aspected as those who suffer from body dysmorphia or those who suffer from eating disorders due to these impossible beauty standards. Physical perfection becomes an obsession.

Now, if you have this particular asteroid prominently based in your chart, you may find that you value beauty, pleasure, and romance. There might be a taste for refined aesthetics and/or one can just be naturally gifted with creativity and art. Career-wise, one could find themselves drawn to jobs that revolve around fashion, interior design, modeling, make-up, photography, cooking, etc. If she's touching Mars or in the 8th, one could find themselves making sex work a part of their career as well.

Aphrodite in the signs

Aries: Two words: Sexuality promiscuous. Like the sign of Aries, the fire burns hot then goes out. Freedom and independence are paramount and they value those who see things similarly. Getting too emotionally invested in others is not appearing to them in any way, here for a good time, not a long time. Sporty aesthetic. Athleisure. Sex will likely be hard and fast.

Taurus: Love of the material. Base-level treasure seekers. However, they are typically quite attractive and even look pleasant when they don't put much effort in. Follow trends and keep up with the day-to-day fashion world. Most likely an Instagram fashion influencer. Love of glitz and glam. Shinier the better. Diamonds are their best friend.

Gemini: Serial fuckers. Literally, this aphrodite placement will have a full black book of names. A thousand notches on the belt. A million notches on the bedpost... well, you get the idea. Very charismatic and uses their intelligence to seduce. Sapiosexuals. Stimulate their mind and you might keep their attention... for an hour as opposed to 15 minutes like the rest. Will know everyone and everything about everyone. Life of the party and will charm with their wit.

Cancer: The emotional lover. Don't let this food you though, hurt them and they'll pull out their pincers. This Aphrodite placement loves to be nurtured and taken care of and will often do the same. Mood affects appearance. Charms using one of two things: their hard to get energy [Crabshell] or their love of family and togetherness [4th house]. No in-between, really.

Leo: Worship me vibes. Lovers of attention. This placement is very prideful. They don't like to share [their lovers] at all. Typically though, because of their love of the spotlight, their fashion sense is impeccable. They are hard to miss and will usually light up a room. Ignore them and you'll wound them.

Virgo: Immediate/outwardly "perfect" appearance. Because of this sign's attention to detail, they are often very pristine in their approach. Clean sex- the type in the shower or when one is freshly groomed around the genital area. Will use their "perfection" to pull the cream of the crop in the dating pool their way. This placement can go far in the fashion world and may even become designers. Often do well as dancers or some sort of aesthetic career that involves "precision".

Libra: Serial Flirt. With Aphrodite here, it's like getting a double shot of Venusian energy. Pleasant, charming... naturally beauties not unlike Taurean Aphrodite's. Don't mind casual sex or casual flings but prefer relationships. Very focused on aesthetics and, like Virgo Aphrodites could go far in their fashion world or make-up pursuits. Can be very superficial.

Scorpio: Alluring vibe. They WILL fuck a lot. It's in their nature. Will be loyal if they are in a committed partnership though. Can give off scary vibes or RBF but they feel things deeply. Their aesthetic is dark colors, black as elegance, an intimidating style that appears edgy. Artistically may enjoy all things Tim Burton.

Sagittarius: Vagabond vibes. Eternal traveler. Eternal nomad. Epitome of promiscuity here. However, quite laid back. Their aesthetic probably has something to do with maps or cartography. Bohemian energy with pictures or fabrics from the far east or even Africa. Most likely has a buddha head somewhere in their home. Speak to them in an accent or different language to turn them on.

Capricorn: Independent vibes. These aphrodite placements are not keen on sharing their lives too much with others. Very business-like. Sexually though, they are insatiable. Machines. They like things to but black tie or button up. This does not mean they aren't laid back, they just like things to be all work with very little play until said work is done. Name brands and expensive suits/dresses? They're all about that. It's a status symbol thing. What Caps are famous for.

Aquarius: Avant-garde vibes. This placement will cut their hand off before they lose their freedom. More vagabond-esque than Sag tbh. Will love a style that shocks you or is out of the ordinary. Not traditional in any sense. Their sex will be kinky or they'll prefer it to have some sort of spice. Missionary? Nope. Expect a toy or ten. Pansexuals. Free love. Don't try to get them to commit unless they're ready.

Pisces: Subtle vibes. Subtle style. Dreamy style. Sexually they need to be emotionally connected. May find themselves falling in love often with the idea of someone than the reality of them. Lovers of the grunge and druggy era. 90's vibes are their aesthetic with a touch of the ethereal. Messy art studios, messy hair, even messier love lives. Might attract co-dependent types. Day-dreamy.

[samwisethewitch]

Cults? In my life? It’s more likely than you think.

In my last post, I talked about how the Law of Attraction and Christian prosperity gospel both use the same thought control techniques as cults. I’ve received several public and private replies to that post: some expressing contempt for “sheeple” who can be lead astray by cults, and others who say my post made them scared that they might be part of a cult without knowing it.

I want to address both of those types of replies in this post. I want to talk about what a cult really looks like, and how you can know if you’re dealing with one.

If you type the word “cult” into Google Images, it will bring up lots of photos of people with long hair, wearing all white, with their hands raised in an expression of ecstasy.

Most modern cults do not look anything like this.

Modern cultists look a lot like everyone else. One of the primary goals of most cults is recruitment, and it’s hard to get people to join your cause if they think you and your group are all Kool-Aid-drinking weirdos. The cults that last are the ones that manage to convince people that they’re just like everyone else — a little weird maybe, but certainly not dangerous.

In the book The Road to Jonestown: Jim Jones and Peoples Temple, author Jeff Guinn says, “In years to come, Jim Jones would frequently be compared to murderous demagogues such as Adolf Hitler and Charles Manson. These comparisons completely misinterpret, and historically misrepresent, the initial appeal of Jim Jones to members of Peoples Temple. Jones attracted followers by appealing to their better instincts.”

You might not know Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple by name, but you’ve probably heard their story. They’re the Kool-Aid drinkers I mentioned earlier. Jones and over 900 of his followers, including children, committed mass suicide by drinking Flavor Aid mixed with cyanide.

In a way, the cartoonish image of cults in popular media has helped real-life cults to stay under the radar and slip through people’s defenses.

In her book Recovering Agency: Lifting the Veil of Mormon Mind Control, Luna Lindsey says: “These groups use a legion of persuasive techniques in unison, techniques that strip away the personality to build up a new group pseudopersonality. New members know very little about the group’s purpose, and most expectations remain unrevealed. People become deeply involved, sacrificing vast amounts of time and money, and investing emotionally, spiritually, psychologically, and socially.”

Let’s address some more common myths about cults:

Myth #1: All cults are Satanic or occult in nature. This mostly comes from conservative Christians, who may believe that all non-Christian religions are inherently cultish in nature and are in league with the Devil. This is not the case — most non-Christians don’t even believe in the Devil, much less want to sign away their souls to him. Many cults use Christian theology to recruit members, and some of these groups (Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, etc.) have become popular enough to be recognized as legitimate religions. Most cults have nothing to do with magic or the occult.

Myth #2: All cults are religious. This is also false. While some cults do use religion to recruit members or push an agenda, many cults have no religious or spiritual element. Political cults are those founded around a specific political ideology. Author and cult researcher Janja Lalich is a former member of an American political cult founded on the principles of Marxism. There are also “cults of personality” built around political figures and celebrities, such as Adolf Hitler, Chairman Mao, and Donald Trump. In these cases, the cult is built around hero worship of the leader — it doesn’t really matter what the leader believes or does.

Myth #3: All cults are small fringe groups. Cults can be any size. Some cults have only a handful of members — it’s even possible for parents to use thought control techniques on their children, essentially creating a cult that consists of a single family.  There are some cults that have millions of members (see previous note about Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses).

Myth #4: All cults live on isolated compounds away from mainstream society. While it is true that all cults isolate their members from the outside world, very few modern cults use physical isolation. Many cults employ social isolation, which makes members feel separate from mainstream society. Some cults do this by encouraging their followers to be “In the world but not of the world,” or encouraging them to keep themselves “pure.”

Myth #5: Only stupid, gullible, and/or mentally ill people join cults. Actually, according to Luna Lindsey, the average cult member is of above-average intelligence. As cult expert Steven Hassan points out, “Cults intentionally recruit ‘valuable’ people—they go after those who are intelligent, caring, and motivated. Most cults do not want to be burdened by unintelligent people with serious emotional or physical problems.” The idea that only stupid or gullible people fall for thought control is very dangerous, because it reinforces the idea that “it could never happen to me.” This actually prevents intelligent people from thinking critically about the information they’re consuming and the groups they’re associating with, which makes them easier targets for cult recruitment.

So, now that we have a better idea of what a cult actually looks like, how do you know if you or someone you know is in one?

A good rule of thumb is to compare the group’s actions and teachings to Steven Hassan’s BITE Model. Steven Hassan is an expert on cult psychology, and most cult researchers stand by this model. From Hassan’s website, freedomofmind.com: “Based on research and theory by Robert Jay Lifton, Margaret Singer, Edgar Schein, Louis Jolyon West, and others who studied brainwashing in Maoist China as well as cognitive dissonance theory by Leon Festinger, Steven Hassan developed the BITE Model to describe the specific methods that cults use to recruit and maintain control over people. ‘BITE’ stands for Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotional control.”

Behavior Control may include…

Telling you how to behave, and enforcing behavior with rewards and punishments. (Rewards may be nonphysical concepts like “salvation” or “enlightenment,” or social rewards like group acceptance or an elevated status within the group. Punishments may also be nonphysical, like “damnation,” or may be social punishments like judgement from peers or removal from the group.)

Dictating where and with whom you live. (This includes pressure to move closer to other group members, even if you will be living separately.)

Controlling or restricting your sexuality. (Includes enforcing chastity or abstinence and/or coercion into non-consensual sex acts.)

Controlling your clothing or hairstyle. (Even if no one explicitly tells you, you may feel subtle pressure to look like the rest of the group.)

Restricting leisure time and activities. (This includes both demanding participation in frequent group activities and telling you how you should spend your free time.)

Requiring you to seek permission for major decisions. (Again, even if you don’t “need” permission, you may feel pressure to make decisions that will be accepted by the group.)

And more.

Information Control may include…

Withholding or distorting information. (This may manifest as levels of initiation, with only the “inner circle” or upper initiates being taught certain information.)

Forbidding members from speaking with ex-members or other critics.

Discouraging members from trusting any source of information that isn’t approved by the group’s leadership.

Forbidding members from sharing certain details of the group’s beliefs or practice with outsiders.

Using propaganda. (This includes “feel good” media that exists only to enforce the group’s message.)

Using information gained in confession or private conversation against you.

Gaslighting to make members doubt their own memory. (“I never said that,” “You’re remembering that wrong,” “You’re confused,” etc.)

Requiring you to report your thoughts, feelings, and activities to group leaders or superiors.

Encouraging you to spy on other group members and report their “misconduct.”

And more.

Thought Control may include…

Black and White, Us vs. Them, or Good vs. Evil thinking.

Requiring you to change part of your identity or take on a new name. (This includes only using last names, as well as titles like “Brother,” “Sister,” and “Elder.”)

Using loaded languages and cliches to stop complex thought. (This is the difference between calling someone a “former member” and calling the same person an “apostate” or “covenant breaker.”)

Inducing hypnotic or trance states including prayer, meditation, singing hymns, etc.

Using thought-stopping techniques to prevent critical thinking. (“If you ever find yourself doubting, say a prayer to distract yourself!”)

Allowing only positive thoughts or speech.

Rejecting rational analysis and criticism both from members and from those outside the group.

And more.

Emotional Control may include…

Inducing irrational fears and phobias, especially in connection with leaving the group. (This includes fear of damnation, fear of losing personal value, fear of persecution, etc.)

Labeling some emotions as evil, worldly, sinful, low-vibrational, or wrong.

Teaching techniques to keep yourself from feeling certain emotions like anger or sadness.

Promoting feelings of guilt, shame, and unworthiness. (This is often done by holding group members to impossible standards, such as being spiritually “pure” or being 100% happy all the time.)

Showering members and new recruits with positive attention — this is called “love bombing.” (This can be anything from expensive gifts to sexual favors to simply being really nice to newcomers.)

Shunning members who disobey orders or disbelieve the group’s teachings.

Teaching members that there is no happiness, peace, comfort, etc. outside of the group.

And more.

If a group ticks most or all of the boxes in any one of these categories, you need to do some serious thinking about whether or not that group is good for your mental health. If a group is doing all four of these, you’re definitely dealing with a cult and need to get out as soon as possible.

These techniques can also be used by individual people in one-on-one relationships. A relationship or friendship where someone tries to control your behavior, thoughts, or emotions is not healthy and, again, you need to get out as soon as possible.

Obviously, not all of these things are inherently bad. Meditation and prayer can be helpful on their own, and being nice to new people is common courtesy. The problem is when these acts become part of a bigger pattern, which enforces someone else’s control over your life.

A group that tries to tell you how to think or who to be is bad for your mental health, your personal relationships, and your sense of self. When in doubt, do what you think is best for you — and always be suspicious of people or groups who refuse to be criticized.

[mandadoration]

all-consuming

(gif by astreamidnightgifspam)

summary: What brutal efficiency Paz Vizla carries himself with, and what brutal efficiency he shows when he’s fucking you against the wall. 

word count: 5,173

pairing: paz vizla x reader

tags: smut, against the wall sex, choking, face fucking, cumshot, very rough sex, dom/sub for SURE, awkward aftercare

a/n: Thank you all for being so patient while I tried to get this out! It has been definite Horny Hours on this blog with little actual content for a while, but hopefully the wait has been worth it! Enjoy it, ya filthy sinners.

Read this on AO3

Paz Vizla is nothing if not all-consuming. From his hulking stature that fills up the door frame to how the room quiets when he walks in, high tension trailing behind him, he makes himself present and known. He doesn’t need to verbally command a room when all it takes is a sweeping gesture, a too-tight turn of his head and a fist at his side before spines straighten and chins raise. The line between fear and respect blurs to the point it might as well be non-existent.

Even you aren’t quite sure where you are. He swallows you up in his shadow, and you just know that he revels in that fact. You can’t see his face-- and you highly you ever will-- but you get a feeling it’s something that adds to the puff of his chest. You know because he seems intent on letting you know whenever he calls in.

And the people in the room next to yours.

And the people down the hallway.

Maybe the entire star system.

He certainly seemed intent on that the first time he met you.

As far as first impressions went, Paz’s could be much better. He’s the one that gives you the impression that maybe Mandalorians aren’t taught manners, like to knock before entering a closed room, because he barged into your reserved room just as you took off your underwear for a leering client, pulling him off of you and off the bed by the scruff of his neck. The client makes a choked-off noise that has you pulling a face, scrabbling at the silken sheets with dirty fingernails as he tries to gain some traction. He has no chance compared to the large bounty hunter. If you had to guess, he was twice the client’s size, maybe more if you accounted for the armor. No contest.

You just watch with mild interest as the large Mandalorian knocks him out and slaps cuffs around his bounty’s thin wrists, barely even looking at you during the whole thing. As if you weren’t even there. The brutal efficiency in which the Mandalorian had carried out his actions had intrigued you. You had witnessed a fair share of violence in your life- just comes with not having the security of funds or status- but the Mandalorian in your room had done it so casually that you had started to really wonder if there were some malicious intentions, some deep-seated anger that manifested because the last you heard, knocking someone’s lights out wasn’t a prerequisite to bringing a bounty in.

Once the bounty was hauled over his shoulder, he had given you a curt nod, the only acknowledgement he had given you thus far, and stepped towards the door, intent to leave. That is, before you pouted your lips and called for him, asking for the name of your unconventional savior. You really hadn’t looked forward to having to service your client after all. Far too old and hungry like a starving strill for your tastes, lips perpetually pulled back in a sneer. The least you could do was offer what you were best at.

For a moment you think that he’ll ignore you and keep walking out the door, but he stops. Gives no name, granted, but least now you have his attention.  

You hum, and trail a lazy finger up the outside of your leg. “You know, he’s already paid for the full hour,” you purr, making a dainty motion at the unconscious man, leaning forward and pushing your elbows together. You can’t tell where his eyes are looking, but from how the hand at his side clenches into fist, you have a small inkling of where his gaze lands. “Be a shame if it went to waste. I’d much rather have fun with you,” and your panties are already off anyways, so you lean back and relax against the cushions, lifting your legs into the air and batting your eyelashes at him. To top it all off, you bring your hands around to spread yourself open for him, and give him a winning smile like a pin-up girl worthy enough to be painted onto the side of the best starship in the galaxy.

It’s funny that all it takes for you to derail a Mandalorian and convince him to spend the prepaid hour with you was to spread your legs and look pretty for him. He shoves the man unceremoniously into the wardrobe and absolutely pounced on you. It was too bad you couldn’t tell the other girls that you had snagged a Mandalorian of all people. A Mandalorian that had reduced you to a shaking mess within the first half hour. A Mandalorian that managed to go two rounds and a half before your room’s sound system had chimed to let you know the hour was up.

As you lay in the bed, panting still and rubbing the fingerprint-shaped bruises on your shoulders long after he had gone, you thought that that would be the last you ever saw of basically the best lay of your life; but a few months later, he asks for you by name, much to your surprise, seeing as you never gave it before he left. You had started to think that maybe he wouldn’t even spare you a second thought while he was out there doing whatever it is Mandalorians do. But he walks in, without knocking, again, and grumbles about how much it was to rent you for an hour.

He seems to forget all about the expenses when you take him all the way down until your nose nestles in the coarse hair at the base.

He should.

This Mandalorian was entirely proportionate after all.

No small feat.  

Most definitely not a small cock.

After all is said and done, you help him strap his armor back on. Previously he had taken off strictly what was necessary, but this time without a bounty waiting in a closet, he had the luxury of being a little more comfortable. Suiting him back up was an oddly tender moment, working quietly to make sure everything was in its place, fleeting touches so gentle compared to what had transpired moments before. You stretch back across the ruined sheets, wonderfully sore with tear-streaked cheeks, he gives you his name without prompting just as he leaves.

Paz Vizla.

You don’t actively try to remember the names of your clients, but his sticks with you.

With how he doesn’t linger or converse with you, you gather he isn’t one to be too sentimental about his affairs, and even more when it’s paid. Although you didn’t really need those small moments before and after the hour to know that. He’s rough and unforgiving, fucking more than actually having sex, pushing your face into the sheets to muffle your sobs or a firm hand around your throat, pressing and pulling and making you beg with each swat on your ass with his large hands.

So yeah. You remember Paz Vizla’s name, but don’t hold too much hope he’ll be back for a third time.

You think a girl, worn down by the world and turning bitter, once said to you that the key to happiness was low expectations, or something along those lines. You try to take her advice, but when you get back from a round around the club to check your data pad, a time slot has been filled up. No name. Just an hour. Highly unusual, but you can guess what kind of person could set up an appointment with and not provide a name. Although the words of low expectations and not getting invested in this line of work knocks around in your head, you’re antsy for when his hour rolls around.

You skip all the preamble of clothes to go for just a simple robe to protect yourself from the steady chill of the air, and wait. You hate to say it, but you find yourself even more excited for him to come back. It’s no lie that you do have regulars, people who have grown used to you and prefer your type, but you never really felt as anticipatory as you did now.

You then learn that he still hasn’t learned how to properly knock.

Paz Vizla practically kicks down the door to your room, stripping off his weapons and unbuckling his belt with his sights set on you. “C’mere,” he grunts, and he scoops you up off the bed where you’ve been waiting for him, and he shatters the demure act you’ve put up when he slams you against the adjacent wall.

“Rough day?” you tease him, and gasp in a stuttered breath when his gloved hand grips your throat to pin you against the wall. There’s that brutal efficiency again. Paz’s free hand starts ripping off the sheer, satiny robe you had on, and starts roughly groping you wherever he can reach, groaning when he finds that you’re bare underneath. You feel cowed by his actions, but you’re just defiant enough to keep running your mouth. “Th-that a yes?” He chokes you off when he tightens his grip, and he leans in close, close enough that you can see the reflection of your eyes in his helmet, pupils blown wide and swallowing the color around it.

“What do you think, you brat?” he grits out, voice tight with tension, and deliciously low. You can feel the frustration emanating from him, and you wonder how much of it you can direct at yourself. Grinning, you roll your body against his, grinding your naked pussy against the cold beskar of his cuisse, and put your arms around his neck to pull him forward until your forehead rests against his helmet.

“I think,” you purr, “you should relieve some tension, Paz.” His thumb rubs against the flushed skin of your throat, right over your racing pulse almost pensively before he pinches your nipple, making you inhale sharply.

“Yeah?” he asks, tugging on your nipple into a stiffened peak. “I think I will.”

Like a trained dog, when he lets go of your throat, you jump up high enough to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands coming to your hips in that bruising hold that never fails to leave marks, and presses you back against the wall, hard enough to knock some of the breath out of you, but soft enough that your head doesn’t crack against the wall. He brings one of his hands up your mouth where you obediently bite on the glove, and he slips his hand out, grabbing the glove and tossing it behind him somewhere. He slides the hand between your bodies, and starts rubbing at your clit in slow circles, dipping down to your slick and back up, and you sigh in pleasure. “You think you can take it?” Paz’s voice has dropped, and something bottoms out in you.

“Is that even a question?” you ask him, resting your head against the wall as you look at Paz through half-lidded eyes. The rough pads of his finger working your clit send small shockwaves down to your toes, warmth traveling all through your veins and curling in your belly. He doesn’t bother with teasing around your clit, instead going in and opting to alternate between short, quick swipes and slow circles. A shiver runs down your spine when you realize just how easily Paz his holding you up with one arm. You know he’s strong; you’ve known it since day one, but it still makes your toes curl at the thought of how easy it would be for him to break you, and that’s when you toe that blurred line between fear and respect again. Paz laughs, rough and wickedly when you shake in his arms.

“True,” he says. “If you can’t take what I give you,” Paz leans in closer, “then what do I pay you for?” He slides in a finger, relishing your gasp as you pull him closer still, and you can feel his amusement radiating off of him in waves when you press open-mouthed kisses along his helmet, leaving perfect lipstick marks on the metal almost desperately. “Pretty thing,” he murmurs, and graciously tilts his head so you can reach other parts of his helmet. The beskar is cold, but quickly warms up under your mouth. “And all mine .” His possessive tone curls around the base of your spine and leaves you warm, preening under his careful attention. You draw back and smile.

“Only for an hour,” you tease. You know that before he leaves he’ll go to the refresher to wipe all traces of your encounter away, and probably go actually clean his armor wherever he goes after; but for the time you have with him, you’ll leave what marks you can with the barrier of armor. “It’s extra if you go overtime.”

“I’ll make good use of the time I have then,” Paz growls. He adjusts his hold on you, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass before he slips in another finger. A high whine escapes before you can smother it, and you flush deeply as Paz huffs a laugh. “You gonna sing for me?” he coos, condescending as he slowly drags his fingers out, against your walls, pressing your clit with his thumb as he does. You make a show of catching your bottom lip between your teeth, smiling at him coyly as you run your hands over his pauldrons, scraping your nails across the metal. Although most of your lipstick has been kissed off, your lips are starting to redden again from your biting. Paz gives you a harsh twist of his fingers that makes you rock forward, but you stay quiet. “That better be a yes,” he warns in a low voice. Paz curls his fingers in you, and you choke down a moan. Even still, you know he heard it catch in your throat because he does it again, stroking up against your clit at the same time. You can’t stop the next one, but you narrow your eyes at him instead.

“Or what?” you counter, challengingly. His fingers still their movements in you.

“Or…” he says, and pulls his fingers out of you, and shoves them into your mouth before you can protest. “I’ll leave you.” You look up at him through your lashes, curling your tongue around his digits and letting spit drool down your chin before you turn your head to pop his fingers out of your mouth. A weak threat you already know he won’t make good on.

“You can’t,” you say sweetly. “You paid for the hour.” Paz grabs a hold of your face, fingers pressing the flesh of your cheek against your teeth to the point you wince.

“Doesn’t mean I have to stay for the hour.”

“Then you’d be wasting your money,” you bite back at him through squished cheeks. You reach down to smear your wetness over the palm of your hand, then feel around blindly until your hand wraps around Paz’s cock, running your deft hands over the velvety-smooth skin, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the head. Your fingers barely touch each other when you reach around, but you try your best to hold him in a slick grip.

“Fuuuuck,” Paz groans, voice turning breathless at the end as he lets your face go in favor of holding the back of your neck. The heat of his hand is searing, but it just spurs you to tighten your grip. “Just like that.” You squeeze him root to tip, twisting your wrist and drawing a moan from him in response. After a few strokes, you pause, and let go off him, letting his cock bob in the air as you slap your wet hand against the front of his armor.

“Did you come here just for a handjob?” you ask him.

Paz doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I sure didn’t come here just to listen to you mouth off to me,” he says, but he loosens his grip and you get down, leaning against the wall and playing with your breast as he starts stripping himself of his armor from the waist up. He makes record time getting undressed, even going as far as to neatly put it down instead of dumping your ass, but it seems like ages before he swoops in again, lifting you back up and putting your knees to your chest, one arm under your ass and the other holding your waist. It’s a little uncomfortable, Paz seemingly wanting to get closer to you, but ending up making your knees squish your tits, but then he’s pressing in, in, in , popping the head of his cock into your hole, and stretching you until he bottoms out and you forget your discomfort.

You feel so full.

You don’t even realize that you’ve closed your eyes and left your mouth hanging open until Paz orders you to, “Fucking look at me.” You flutter your eyes open, and you feel them well up with tears as he drags his cock out, tortuously slowly, and slams back in, punching a high-pitched squeak out of you, and you knock your head against the wall. The pain of it is quickly washed over with pleasure as he steadies his pace.

“You know,” you gasp out, hands scrabbling at his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself somehow, “we have a bed for a reason.”

“You talk too much,” he grunts, and brings the arm around your waist up to wrap his still-slick hand around your throat, squeezing the sides and making the blood roar in your ears. You teeter precariously in his one-handed grip, but he’s pinned you to the wall enough that you won’t fall. Still, something in your stomach flutters at the fear of falling. You wonder if he can feel your pulse jump under his fingers, but those thoughts are driven out of your head as he speeds up out of nowhere and pounds into you, the obscene slap of his hips against yours almost overtaking the faint beat of the music in the main area of the club. A broken whine escapes your throat, pitched up with every thrust. It’s almost too much too fast, and you end up holding onto Paz with a white-knuckled grip in an attempt not to immediately hurtle off the edge. The heat builds up in your belly into something devastating, and you feel your face turning redder and redder with every passing second. You look at Paz with pleading eyes, tears welling up, and a few spill over when he shifts a little, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. You need to move, need to outwardly express the sheer pleasure rocking through you, but the way you’re being held up makes it impossible. “ Maker , your pussy is clenching around me; you like it when I choke you?” He tightens his grip. You barely register that you’re babbling incoherently at him, little choked off sounds that barely constitute as Basic. The energy between you is charged, and keeps rising with every second that passes. “I bet you do.” You look at him pleadingly again for that relief you’re aching for.  

“Aww,” Paz coos, “you wanna cum, is that what you’re trying to say? Poor, pretty little thing. And so soon, too.” Condescension drips off his words and stings you like acid, but you frantically nod anyways. That coil that’s been winding up inside is ready to snap at any moment, but you know, you know that Paz likes it when you hold off until you get his permission. If it weren’t for the helpless position he’s winded you up into, if it weren’t for the fact that it was him of all people, you would’ve done it as you pleased. But you want to please him. You want this dangerous man to approve of your actions and you know how to play him to get the response you want. The fact that you can barely think or string together any words doesn’t stop you, and you fix him with the most pleading, sorry look you can muster through your tears. So many years of your life building up a thick skin, so much of it in this profession, and he manages to slip by them. “Then do it. ”

If you had any breath left in your lungs, your orgasm would’ve punched it out of you, but instead you’re left with your lips tingling and eyes rolling back as your toes curl as you cum. Your vision nearly whites out you clench around Paz’s cock, his pace still at that constant, invasive speed despite the way you tighten around him. He releases his hold on your throat to hold onto the meat of your shoulder. Always, always too much of him, of everything, and you don't want to let go. But eventually you start trying to push him away, your pleasure moans turning more into uncomfortable whines, still too incoherent to form proper words.

When Paz finally lets go of you, you’re still shaking, and your knees give out from under you without his support. You gasp in a deep breath, head reeling and tears still slipping out of your eyes as you try to gather yourself, but before you can do anything, he threads his hand through your hair and wrenches it back, and shoves his cock into your mouth while you’re trying to recover, forcing a choked off noise of surprise. Paz is merciless, hitting the back of your throat and growling deep in his chest with every thrust as you look up at him with glossy eyes. At this point, you can’t do anything but keep your jaw slack and try not to gag around him, but then he’s burying himself into your throat, keeping your head down as he wipes the tears running down your face. You gag hard around him, and that’s when Paz slides out, slapping your face with his spit-soaked cock as you hiccup through your tears.

Despite already having cum, your core is throbbing with need again, and you reach up to softly put your hands on Paz’s muscled thighs. You lick your swollen lips.

“Please,” you rasp, leaning forward as much as you can with that firm hold on your hair to try and capture his cock back in your mouth. You manage to wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue. “Paz--” He draws his hips back, and you let out a pathetic whine. His hold tightens, making your scalp sting.

“Hm?” He pulls on your hair until your neck strains, making you tilt your head back to look up at him. “What is it, baby?” Your lips are parted, glistening with spit as you try and formulate a coherent thought. “What do you want?” You don’t want to see what happens if Paz gets impatient with you, so you opt to open your mouth and stick your tongue out as far out as you can, looking up at him with shiny eyes. You can see when he physically freezes, then he’s gripping the grip of his cock and pressing it back against your tongue.

Paz hisses through his teeth when he sinks his cock back into your mouth, looking at your red-rimmed eyes glazed over with arousal, and his dick twitches in your mouth when you blink up at him with your tear-soaked lashes. “Pretty thing,” he groans. “Pretty, pretty thing.” You moan around his cock as his words make your cunt clenches around nothing. “Let me do anything, anything to you.” It becomes too tiring to try and keep your hands up on his thighs, and despite how awkward it feels, you drop them to your sides, hanging limply as Paz fucks your mouth.

Truth be told, you space out a little, eyes slipping half-shut as you suppress your gags and instead focus on how the low, ever-changing neon lights of your room reflect and bounce off the surface of his armor. His pace starts to become erratic, more frantic as he chases the sweet warmth of your mouth. You wonder if he's going to cum in your mouth or buried deep in your throat as you swallow around him, but instead Paz pulls out just in time for him to cum over you, half in your open mouth and half on your face, moaning deep in his chest as he hunches his shoulders inwards, almost curling into himself as he continues to pump his cock, slick with your spit, and ride out his orgasm.

You’re not really seeing when Paz releases his hold on your hair, and you slump against the wall, heaving in breaths as his hot cum drips down your face. Your jaw is aching and you’re sure that you’ll feel the effects of being essentially fucked in a fetal position pressed against an unforgiving wall, but your head is still spinning as oxygen finally circulates to your brain unhindered. With Paz not so close to you, not radiating his nearly suffocating warmth, you feel yourself calm down a little more, breathing evening out as you swallow his cum and sigh.

Paz just watches you for a little bit, and you can’t tell what his expression is because of the damn helmet with your kisses still smeared all over it, but his hand is clenching and unclenching at his sides as his shoulders slow their rapid up and down. You blink slowly up at him, darting your tongue out to wet your lips and ending up tasting more of the cum on your face. Trying not to cringe, you croak out, “If you don’t tip,” and Maker, your voice is ruined, “I’ll be pissed.” The only indication that Paz heard you at all is a slight tilt of his head and a staticky noise you suspect is a huff of laughter. You shift, and wince when your knees shoot up in pain. You were not looking forward to getting up. Sighing, you duck your head down to rub at the reddening marks on your hips. His boots come into your line of sight, and before you can ask what else he possibly wanted to do, he’s scooping you up, an arm under your knees and the other cradling your upper body to his chest, and he gingerly puts you down on the bed.

You don’t really say anything, and you think to yourself that this is the first time he’s rendered you speechless without shoving his cock or fingers into your mouth or choking you. He’s gone before you can make a remark about it, ducking into the refresher as you lay on the bed. When you said that you had a bed for a reason, this was not what you had in mind.

Well, at least he’s utilizing it.

Or more accurately, you are.

You can already feel the exhaustion settling deep in your bones as you sink into the soft bed, muscles aching as you vaguely listen to the thrum of music that floats through the club. You have about 15 minutes before your hour with Paz is up, and another client coming in an hour. A bath is in order, and a short nap. Luckily you don’t have to work the floor tonight, so a small blessing from the Maker.

You’re jerked back to the present when a warm, wet rag runs up your leg. You lift your head up, just enough to see Paz lift your leg to make it bend at the knee, and wipes at the mess between your thighs. Most of the lipstick marks have been wiped off his helmet, but you can see little smudges where he’d failed to get rid of it completely. You swallow.

“What are you doing?” His motion of swiping over your thighs stutters the slightest. You could’ve missed it if you weren’t hyper aware of his every movement right now, if his touch didn’t fail to burn your skin.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he grumbles after a brief pause, and resumes wiping away the sticky remnants. You wanna press it, tease him about the awkward tenderness that he’s demonstrating, but you know that if you mention any other word about it, he’ll leave.

The care is… nice.

You can’t say that any other clients have gone so far to treat you so kindly after a session. Maybe brief cuddling, a word or two of praise or pat on your ass, but not this. Not the hesitant press of Paz’s fingers into your forming bruises, not the way his shoulders tense when you hiss in pain, not the way he refolds the rag to make sure he cleans you up as much as he can. So uncharacteristic of someone his profession, you think. So uncharacteristic that the brutal efficiency has stepped into the background to make way for… whatever this was. The reserved, almost guarded and guilty way Paz is treating you.

It’s uncharacteristic of his character again when he speaks up.

“You can take a lot,” he says. You quirk a corner of your lip, and slip your eyes shut as the rag runs over your nose.

“That’s- that’s what you pay me for,” you respond, parroting his words back at him. Paz huffs out a short laugh.

“Little brat.” He places the dirty rag on the nightstand next to the bed, giving you one last lingering glance before he heads over to the pile of his armor, slowly strapping it on. You sigh, and reach over to tug a pillow towards you, tucking it under your head. You open one eye lazily.

“Want help?” you ask. He shakes his head.

“I don’t think you can even get up, pretty thing,” he says. You won’t deny it; you feel pretty boneless right now and that nap you were thinking about becomes more and more enticing, but your data pad lights up with a notification. You manage to overcome the urge to just roll your eyes and go to sleep, but you drag yourself far enough to reach the other nightstand and unlock it as you read the message. A slow smile spreads over your face, and a flutter of anticipation swells in your chest despite the pleasing ache between your legs and despite the slight tremor still running through your legs.

“Don’t put your armor back on yet,” you say to him over your shoulder. “My next client just canceled.” Paz hums for you to elaborate. “ Prepaid. And non-refundable.” As it always is at the club you work at, but you want to convince him to stay. You succeed, and Paz stops strapping his cuisse back on, instead straightening up and settling his body weight onto one leg. He tilts his head, and you can feel the grin that is no doubt playing under his helmet.

“His loss.”

Maybe you can reapply your lipstick before the second hour begins.

---

Forever Tag: @mabelleen @mando-vibes @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore @mudhornmando  @jokersdoll @creamysacrilege @blondecity @satans-tongues @skinny-macncheese @mrsparknuts @eupphoriaaa 

@magichandthing @lackofhonor @catsnkooks

[vmficrecs]

Every school has an obligatory psychotic jackass. He’s ours.

It has been one year since The Incident. In celebration of this beautiful, snarky, dynamic, passionate, beloved, smug, asshole, essential, etc., etc., character I have complied a lengthy (but by no means exhaustive) collection of some of my personal favorite fics focusing on Logan, or on his relationships, or fics that i just think do something neat in terms of Logan/his journey/his character. ❤️

Previously on vmficrecs: 

dark_roast, “Fish Out of Water,” Mature, Post Season 1 AU 

Logan opts to leave Neptune, and spend summer vacation with his grandparents.

Notes: This AU is essential reading if you love Logan. His characterization is nearly perfect, and the premise of the fic is endlessly engaging and smart. 

wily_one24, “Sleep, Perchance...,” Mature, Pre-series AU

Logan thaws towards Veronica and sets out to save her.

Notes: I want to eat this fic. If you’ve never read it, read it-- it will linger endlessly inside of your brain in the best way possible. So many of the things Logan does or says in this fic exist in a very tangible and palpable manner for me, it’s that good. I think about it constantly. 

ghostcat, “What We Have in Common,” Teen, Post Season 3 AU 

Weevil Navarro, his incredibly poor choice of a research paper prepping locale and the close talking, finger waving jackass that interrupts and effectively hijacks his night. Set in 2010, three years after The Bitch is Back.

ghostcat, “A Trace of Meaning,” Teen, Pre-series 

13 year-old Logan Echolls and 14 year-old Veronica Mars wait at the Kane Estate for their held-up sleepover hosts to show up. 

theohara, “Rich Dirt,” Mature, Pre-series AU 

And Logan wouldn’t let you have anything. He’d danced over to you and smirked in your face and twirled your plastic cup right out of your hand and cooed that just because your Daddy wasn’t sheriff anymore didn’t give you license to break the law, and he’d acted all shocked with his hand over his mouth and he’d laughed like breaking glass and nanced off with your drink.

anjou, “Into the Blue,” Mature, Post Season 1 

It’s almost summer, and Logan is sinking into the blue.

flyingcarpet, “Mexicali Blues,” Mature, Post Season 3 AU

When he reaches the water he doesn’t hesitate, just keeps walking until he can duck his head under and start to swim away from shore, letting the salt and the waves wash away the residue that Neptune’s left on his skin.

absolutelyiris, “Truth for a Dream,” Teen, Future Fic (Pre-movie)

Fleet Week 2012. A reformed bad boy turned sailor and a former party girl turned career woman meet in a bar…

Notes: A LOGAN AND PARKER FRIENDSHIP FIC!!! pure fucking delight 

absolutelyiris, “Come Around,” Mature, Future AU 

A woman travels the world over in search of what she needs and returns home to find it.

Notes: I will talk about this fic until the day that I day, and then I will still talk about it. One of my absolute favorites. Pure gold Logan/Keith dynamic. I would 10/10 die for Razia. and, of course, the l/v is so damn good 

TheLastGoodGolfish, “The Phenomenal Pixie, #1,” Teen, AU 

Veronica is a masked avenger who stalks the streets of Neptune. Logan is the intrepid reporter who’s on the story.

Notes: PERFECT. PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT. also-- “That’s ridiculous. My favorite person is a sorority girl.” in my head, rent free, and i am forever indebted. 

bryrosea, “Waste of Breath / A Quartz Contentment,” Mature, Post Season 2 to TDTL 

Part one: Logan Echolls, the nine years, and the Navy. Part two: Veronica Mars, the nine years, and a new normal.

Notes: I am recommending specifically “Waste of Breath” for my boy, although Veronica’s piece is excellent as well. 

always_winter, “Written Out,” Teen, Season 2 AU 

Duncan has some residual guilt and Logan wants to be left out of the story.

always_winter, “White Combs and Sweet Honey,” Mature, Season 1

Even when Aaron is trying to be a good father, there’s still a lot he’s doing wrong.

Notes: This fic is so tender to me!!! A beautiful Logan and Aaron piece. 

sadiekate, “Grand Canyon,” PG-13, Season 1 to Future AU 

Three friends reminisce several years in the future, snarkily and pointlessly.

sinaddict, “Necrosis,” Explicit, Season 2 AU 

Death in bits and pieces, denial as a religion… Or ‘normal’ in Neptune.

sowell, “Surviving the Wreck,” Explicit, Season 3 AU 

Nothing’s ever simple with Veronica Mars. Weevil’s day at sea gets a little complicated.

Notes: THIS FUCKING FIC!!!! i love everything about it and especially at this moment in time, the part where logan gives weevil a blow job but weevil notes that somehow, in spite of this, logan retains the upper hand. this fic is world class and i am grateful everyday for it 

theohara, “Broken Toys,” NC-17, Pre series AU 

One glance across a street saves Lilly Kane’s life. It changes everything; it changes nothing.

Notes: This is the most heartbreaking Veronica Mars’ fanfic ever. I have such a deep love for it. It takes Lilly’s character and Logan/Veronica’s relationship to places I don’t ever think they would go and yet it works in this and it works so damn well. a truly devastating and beautiful au 

fluffernutter8, “The Ninety Nine Percent,” Teen, Post Season 3 AU 

Junior year of college, Logan gets some news that proves that no matter how hard he tries, life is just going to keep throwing him curve-balls. Post season 3, non movie canon compliant.

youcallitwinter, “gravity is gonna keep you tied down to this city,” Teen, Post Season 3 to TDTL 

[your life in extended parenthesis] the lone neon nights and the ache of the ocean, and the fire that was starting to spark. From the love to the lightning and the lack of it. 

Notes: please don't fall out of love with me, okay? don’t you dare give up on me. I DIE EVERY FUCKING TIME youcallitwinter is a force with all of her writings, but this one.......my god every single bit about it is fucking flawless 

petpluto, “Of Scars & Consequences,” Teen, Post-series AU 

Almost a decade in the future, Logan's still a little messed up. And Veronica's still a little closed off. They make it work.

julietbravo, “one brutal thing after another,” Teen, Pre-series to Season 1 

These rich boys think they can get away with anything, don’t they.

querulousgawks, “there should be stars for great wars like ours,” Teen, AU 

It’s gotta be some Alliance mind game, a holdover, the Operative’s last trick: Logan’s old secrets manifesting everywhere around them. Where are you, how are you doing this, he wants to scream, but he doesn’t know which ghost he’d be railing at.

SilverLining2k6, “Sometimes (You Can’t Make It On Your Own),” Teen, Season 1 AU 

Silly Duncan stopped taking his meds. Now, one dead Fitzpatrick later, Logan and Veronica need to get him out of town. Too bad they hate each other.

SilverLining2k6, “Control,” Teen, Pre-series AU 

Don’t you mess with a little girl’s dreams. ‘Cause she’s liable to grow up mean. Pre-series. Oneshot. - A twisted little tale of hate and revenge.

Notes: CONTROL!!!!! I love Control so much, it’s one of the first fics I ever read for the fandom and one of the finest. The Logan that exists in this is sooo good and his relationship with Veronica is deeply flawed & wonderful. M is in the process of writing a remix to Control (more in-depth emotion) and I for one am foaming at the fucking mouth every day about it. 

nevertothethird, “Reunions,” Teen, Post Series AU 

Sometimes it just takes a little longer to get things right. Two high school reunions and a birthday party should do the trick.

youcallitwinter, “you give love a bad name,” Teen, Season 2 AU 

“Hey, did you guys know there was a sensitive poet-type hiding behind this hard exoskeleton of expensive alcohol and bitter cynicism?” In which Logan Echolls is, well, Logan Echolls.

scandalpants, “Something to Remember,” Mature, Post Series AU 

Facing a separation, Logan and Veronica spend their last night together exchanging gifts.

Notes: I am always in a goddamn state about this fic. Logan jacking off in front of Veronica at her request? Yes, thank you please. thank you so much 

leurocrystal, “Take Your Time,” Teen, Post Season 2 

Keith doesn’t know how to look at or touch his daughter for the first time in his life.

petpluto, “We Are Nowhere, And It’s Now,” Mature, Series AU 

“You know there is another way of looking at this, Logan. If you’d still been together, you might be dead too." Logan and Lilly both die on October 3rd. But for Veronica, it’s not like they’re gone. And she still works to solve their murders.

absolutelyiris, “Delay,” Teen, Post TTDL

Logan reflects on his first Christmas with Veronica after a ten year separation, as well as how his life has changed with her absence.

New to vmficrecs: 

Christmas in Arkham Author: dark_roast Pairing: Logan Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort, A Really Good Hug  Setting: Season 2 Spoilers: 2.09, “My Mother, the Fiend” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 10128 Status: Complete Summary: Sequel to Fish Out of Water. Logan spends christmas with his grandparents.  Notes: This is, full stop, my favorite Veronica Mars fanfiction ever. I am so protective of this fic that part of me doesn’t even want to give it a formal place on the blog, which is ridiculous because I’m sure plenty of people have already read it and obviously it’s so good that I want people to read it but....this belongs to me, somehow, like I feel like it’s mine that’s how much I love it. ANYWAY possessiveness aside-- Every word, every sentence, every punctuation mark in this fic is perfect, devastating insight into Logan’s character. Absolutely beautiful and wonderful and every other good thing. 

The Teeth by the Shoulder Author: ghostcat Pairing: Fab Four, Logan/Lilly, Veronica/Duncan  Rating: Teen Genre: Friendship, Angst  Setting: Pre-series Spoilers: 1.01, “Pilot”  Chapters: 3 Word Count: 17273 Status: Complete Summary: Two couples, two friendships. The Fab Four in three Octobers. Notes: WE’VE NEVER FUCKING RECOMMENDED THE TEETH BY THE SHOULDER BEFORE?????? HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE OH MY GOD jesus this is one of the greatest fanfictions ever written. three pre-series explorations into the fab four friendship and it is impossibly good. i am especially in love with the logan/lilly in this fic (the first chapter!!!!) and as always special care is given to exploring the logan + veronica dynamic. the third chapter will break your fucking heart so bad in the best way 

Seven Times Logan Echolls Went to Jail Author: sowell Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Veronica/Piz  Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, Romance, Logan Echolls is a Little Shit   Setting: (Post) Season 3 AU  Spoilers: 3.12, “There’s Got to Be a Morning After Pill” and 3.16, “Un-American Graffiti”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 6701 Status: Complete Summary: Who thinks Logan behind bars is sexy? I do, I do! // Logan goes to jail and calls Veronica to bail him out. Again and again and again and again.  Notes: WE HAVEN’T DONE THIS BEFORE EITHER???? oh my god!! I remember finding this one a few months before the movie came out and i would just lay in bed in the dark and re-read it endlessly. and then i left it alone for a few years and when i went back to it holy shit it undid me all over again. perfect logan and veronica relationship. p e r f e c t!!! i firmly believe this is exactly what shape their relationship would’ve taken if veronica hadn’t cut and run 

Love is Just a Four-letter Word Author: bigboobedcanuck Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Keith, Weevil  Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Setting: Future AU  Spoilers: 1.12, “Clash of the Tritons”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1753 Status: Complete Summary: Set a few years down the road from high school. Logan hits rock bottom. Keith and Veronica help him back up. Notes: Lynn’s body turns up and it is fucking DEVASTATING. A short piece that’s told from Keith’s POV (anyone who knows me knows how much of a sucker I am for Keith + Logan interaction) and holy hell Logan is so good in it and I think about it all the fucking time 

Serendipity  Author: TheLastGoodGoldfish  Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Veronica/Piz, Carrie, Gia, Stu Cobbler, Ensemble Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Detective-ing  Setting: Post Season 3  Spoilers: 3.20, “The Bitch is Back” and The Movie  Chapters: 4 (out of a planned 6, fingers crossed!!!) Word Count: 59763 Status: Complete Summary: During her sophomore year at Hearst, Veronica takes on your run-of-the-mill blackmail case: the clients hate her, the evidence is impossible to destroy, and her ex turns out to be a bit of a distraction, but Veronica is a sucker for a damsel-in-distress. Even if the damsel is an intoxicated, pissed off Carrie Bishop. Notes: I AM HIGH PITCHED SCREAMING. Transplanting the movie plot to this timeframe works tremendously and TLGG’s execution is fucking perfect. Carrie is a powerhouse in this fic and god, Logan is such a honey it in which is why it is being recc’d for him. Him practically letting Carrie move in with him and doing his damnedest to protect Carrie and Gia (much to Veronica’s chagrin) is so, so important to me and I love him so much. 

The Phenomenal Pixie - Interlude #1 - “Bugs”  Author: TheLastGoodGoldfish Pairing: Logan/Veronica, OC’s  Genre: Humor, Fluff, Logan and Veronica Are Smarter Than You  Setting: AU (Season 3)  Spoilers: uhhh n/a Chapters: 1 Word Count: 5072 Status: Complete Summary: Dating a superhero poses a unique set of challenges. Notes: Tiny sequel to The Phenomenal Pixie which you absolutely must read first (and is recommended above) because it’s a fucking delight. Logan is incredible in this fic and I would die for him, like always. The part where Steve can sense Logan is thinking about punching him in the face-- a million chefs kisses. 

The Medusa Jewel  Author: TheLastGoodGoldfish Pairing: Logan/Veronica  Genre: Established Relationship Bliss, Fluff  Setting: MKAT Spoilers: MKAT  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 5336 Status: Complete Summary: Logan and Veronica's new neighbor is a writer. Notes: is my TLGG obsession shining through? good because it fucking should be. The Logan/Veronica in this relationship is so sweet and perfect and is 100% my reality and i would like to bathe in this fic and live in it forever as is my right.

Drowning Together Author: bryrosea Pairing: Logan/Veronica Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort Setting: Season 3 Spoilers: 3.07, “Of Vice and Men” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 897 Status: Complete Summary: AU of the confrontation scene from 3x07: Of Vice and Men (Logan and Veronica both need a hug) Notes: Absolute wonderful insight and even some reconciliation into a canonical season three fight. Logan calming down while Veronica falls apart as they hug is so important to me. 

Interrupt Us  Author: bryrosea Pairing: Logan/Veronica Genre: Romance,  Hijinks, They Want To Fuck So Bad  Setting: Post TDTL Spoilers: through TDTL  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 17223 Status: Complete Summary: Logan Echolls is home from deployment. Time to cue the sweeping movie montage, right? Notes: Logan and Veronica try to have sex everywhere and it is my life force. The car scene when they get pulled over and Logan instinctively hiding under Veronica’s desk....god i love everyone in this bar

Ready to Go Author: Amberina Pairing: Logan/Duncan; Veronica  Genre: Friendship, Romance, Angst Setting: Post Season 1  Spoilers: not obvious but 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 6346 Status: Complete Summary: "Let's leave. Let's go. What's left in Neptune for us anyway?" (AKA Duncan, Logan and Veronica have wacky adventures on the road! Also angst.) Notes: Logan getting hissy and storming off from the car while Duncan and Veronica just watch him and then calling a taxi once he’s out of their sight is PEAK logan. I love boyfriends, even if they’re angst-ing in this, and they big time are. 

Nashville On My Mind Author: hjcallipygian Pairing: Logan, Veronica, Duncan Genre: Friendship, Hijinks  Setting: Post Season 1 AU Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1659 Status: Complete Summary: Every year, they take a road trip together. This year, it's to Nashville, Tennessee. Notes: i just spent forty minutes trying to find this fic to the point where i was genuinely concerned i had hallucinated it. it’s so fucking good. a sequel/prequel of sorts to grand canyon by sadiekate (recc’d in the previously section). logan is a mess and by god do i love him 

Six Times Logan Echolls Got Wet Author: bryrosea, CarolineShea, ghostcat, kmd0107, marshmallowtasha, SilverLining2k6 Pairing: Logan/Veronica Rating: Teen Genre: Romance, Friendship, Hijinks Setting: Everywhere Spoilers: All series to MKAT  Chapters: 6 Word Count: 11568 Status: Complete Summary: aka: The Wet Henley ChroniclesSix stories in which we probably give Logan Echolls pneumonia, inspired by the movie's infamous wet henley. Set variously across the series and post-MKAT. Notes: each chapter is written by a different author, they’re all good but bryrosea’s chapter and silvery’s chapter are my favorites. set during the summer between season 1 & 2 and post season three respectively they do such a great job dealing with the fractious and tumultuous nature of Logan/Veronica’s relationship at the time and i love it so much

A Little Dysfunctionality Goes A Long Way  Author: fluffernutter8 Pairing: Logan/Veronica Rating: Teen Genre: ANGST with a side of fucking ANGST, happy ending but jesus   Setting: Post Season 3 AU  Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 2878 Status: Complete Summary: Despite their history, Logan and Veronica might be somewhere on the brink of normal. A few years post season 3. Notes: i just read this for the first time 07/13/20 at 9:08pm because when i asked shelby for her favorite logan fics she included this one. i am fucking dead now and-- there’s nothing else to say about it. i’m just fucking dead. for YEARS i have said that nobody with the username fluffernutter8 should be able to write shit this goddamn emotional and yet, time and time again, i find myself here fuckign wrecked and furious about it 

these are just ghosts that broke my heart before i met you Author: theviolonist  Pairing: Logan, Veronica, Carrie, Dick  Rating: Teen Genre: Introspection, Angst, I Love Logan   Setting: Pre Movie & Movie  Spoilers: Movie  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1326 Status: Complete Summary: In the army they say, don't think of the target as a person, otherwise you won't have the guts to pull the trigger. Notes: fuck, you guys. this one is so beautiful. an exploration into logan’s grief and him trying to move on and it cuts like a damn knife because he can never really do it but fuck he wants to so bad and [lucas scott voice] that’s gotta mean something, right? truly so so wonderful 

Fugue Author: vaeran Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Logan/Lilly, Dick  Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, hopeful ending  Setting: Post Season 1 Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 4137 Status: Complete Summary: It's something he refuses to let go because it defines who he is and what he has become. Notes: deviates from the PCHer confrontation on the bridge, which means logan takes a little longer to come around to reconciliation with veronica. it’s perfect and i particularly love the logan/lilly in this, he’s hurt but still so impossibly and eternally in love with her 

One Flew Over the Echolls Nest Author: Wynn Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Duncan Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, Friendship Setting: Post Season 1 AU  Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1507 Status: Complete Summary: Open wide and see what's inside. A bridge and a bed and Veronica. Logan finds himself in a mental institution after the events of "Leave it to Beaver." Veronica, Duncan, and Logan's psychiatrist attempt to help. Notes: so sad and so good!!! the part where Logan’s psychiatrist asks him when the last time he was happy was fucking wrecks me everytime!! 

Free at last  Author: querulousgawks Pairing: Logan, Weevil, Aaron Rating: Teen Genre: Frenemies, They Are Boyfriends Setting: Season 2 Spoilers: 2.09, “My Mother, the Fiend”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1242 Status: Complete Summary: Logan and Weevil and fire go a long way back. A flashback scene interrupts their Season 2 meeting in the Neptune Grand. Notes: I LOVE EVERY SINGLE THING ABOUT THIS SO GOD DAMN MUCH 

The Right Shade of Red Author: ghostcat Pairing: Trina, Logan, Aaron  Rating: Teen Genre: ANGST Setting: Pre-series Spoilers: 1.15, “Ruskie Business”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 883 Status: Complete Summary: Trina finds her jerky little brother hiding in her closet and does the unexpected thing. (Or, A time Logan trusted Trina) Notes: If you want 883 words to be able to make you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck this is the fic for you! I love the Echolls family dynamics so much, and this one is excellent. 

[willoryn]

~Make you understand~

Atsushixtodomatsu

Sfw/descriptive kissing/fluff/angst

• ~~~~~~~ ♡ ~~~~~~ •

The evening went about as well as one could expect.

Any night out Todomatsu ever had with Atsushi usually ended in one of two scenarios: either Todomatsu gets sidelined, the "nobody" that the women ignored while they cooed over Atsushi, his ride home. Eventually, Todomatsu would throw in the towel early, walking home alone, rejected and heavy hearted.

Or two: the same scenario would play out, however this time Todomatsu would be forced into an uncomfortable car ride, Atsushi taking him home. Complete silence between the two.

This was the latter of those nights. Todomatsu was leaning against the car door, chin resting on his palm and just watching the street lights fly by. He cast a side glance at Atsushi. The man was just watching the road. A calm, cool demeanor as usual.

Smug bastard. Totty thought.

It was bad enough that Atsushi insisted on a much fancier restraunt this time around. Now here Todomatsu was stuck in this suit. For some reason Atsushi didn't find any dates for them, so the two of them just sat there across from each other, alone at a table in a dimly lit restraunt. For what? So Atsushi can just further rub his wealth in his face? He didn't care how good the bastard looked in his nice suit. How handsome his features looked in the dim lighting. How there was an unmistakable shiver that ran up Totty's spine every time their hands accidentally touched when they went for the breadsticks.

"Todomatsu?"

"Huh?" The youngest matsu perked up, transforming back into his chipper self.

"You haven't really said anything all evening. Are you okay?" Atsushi asked, looking a bit worried. A change of pace from his usually chill demeanor.

Oh, now its about me, huh? The "nobody".

Todomatsu nodded. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He hardly made an effort to hide the sarcasm. "Just fine."

Atsushi wasnt happy with that answer. He didn't understand what was wrong. Was Totty not feeling very good? Maybe the expensive restraunt was too much? He thought Todomatsu would like it. He intentionally picked a place where it could just be the two of them. Away from anyone who would bother them. Atsushi had hoped that it would bring them a bit closer. He genuinely thought of Totty as a close friend that enjoyed being around him. Though, he couldn't deny that there were deeper feelings than just friendship. But... maybe Todomatsu didn't feel the same way? Was he forcing him into an uncomfortable situation and he was just trying to be nice?

Atsushi's heart sank. That was the last thing he wanted. He loved Todomatsu, and wanted to show it to him. He had almost blurted it out during dinner a couple times, but Todomatsu was being so unresponsive and looked genuinely stressed out that he figured it wasn't a good time. But now here he was feeling guilty for putting him up to all this. Perhaps he just shouldn't have tried. But he couldn't deny his feelings. For the past few years he had felt something growing for Todomatsu. He kept it down for so long. He even thought maybe Totty felt the same way. The way the man would look over at him, would study him. Seemed like there was more behind that look than just a friendly glance. And Todomatsu was always so flustered when caught. He was adorable like that.

Atsushi liked the attention from women. But when it was from Todomatsu it was different. Endearing and honest. He loved how sassy Totty was with him. His little quips and sarcastic remarks. No one else dared challenge Atsushi the way Todomatsu did. He could always count on him to be brutally honest when he needed it. And his laugh. His adorable laugh. Going on double dates was fun enough, as long as they got to see each other. Even more so when they were alone.

But his feelings manifested and grew tenfold since then. Now he was starting to get antsy. Todomatsu was becoming more distant and that didn't bode well for Atsushi. The longer he spent away from Totty, the more he missed him. And the more he feared Todomatsu finding someone else. Why was Todomatsu keeping him out? What was he not picking up on? Atsushi grit his teeth. He couldn't take much more of this.

It's time to start being honest with ourselves. Forgive me, Totty.

Atsushi swirved over into a parallel parking spot along the road, putting the car in park. Todomatsu would have lunged forward into the dash had he not braced himself. His eyes shot over to Atsushi.

"What's going on? Why are we stopping?" Todomatsu asked.

Atsushi swirled in his seat and faced Totty. "Todomatsu, why do you think I've been taking you out on all these dates lately?"

Todmatsu was taken aback, a blush dusting over his face. Not sure what to say. Dates? What was he talking about? Did he mean double dates? But it's been just the two of them.

Either way, if he wanted honesty he was going to get it. Todomatsu crossed his arms and sat up defiantly.

"Honestly? Sometimes I think it's because you want me to be a wingman for you to get women. Sometimes I think it's because you want to rub your success in my face. Sometimes I even think-" You might genuinley like being around me. Todomatsu bit his lip and turned away.

Atsushi cocked his head, still not understanding. "Why would I do that?"

Todomatsu rolled his eyes. "Because that's what you've always done, Atsushi. You always-" he pinched the bridge of his nose. The pent up frustration of the evening starting to wear him down. He just wanted to go to sleep. But he had to dish this out with Atsushi first. "You're always so condescending! 'Oh, Totty, look at my new car! I got a promotion! Are you still living with your parents?' Every. single. time! You're a terrible conversationalist!"

Atsushi couldn't believe his ears. Had Todomatsu always felt this way...? Surely he didn't really take it like that did he?

Oh no...

"Look, I know I'm just some unemployed NEET who doesn't have money or a car-" Tears pricked the corners of Todomatsu's eyes as he spoke, much to his annoyance. But it was Atsushi's fault for pushing him like this. "Or a girlfriend, still lives with his parents and five useless brothers... but I don't appreciate being treated like this!"

Atsushi just blinked. Completely lost on what Todomatsu was so furious with him. "I think you might be projecting."

Todomatsu's jaw almost hit the floor and Atsushi was convinced he was going to sock him right in the face for that. "You- you complete, unbelievable, over-confident-!"

"You're my friend, Totty. You always have been. I've treated you no less."

"You're just pretending to care about me."

"But I do." Atsushi urged. "I care about you far more than you think, Todomatsu."

Todomatsu felt a blush creep across his cheeks but suppressed it for a scoff yeah right! "There you go again! Just stop messing with me already!"

"But it's true, Totty. You're the only other person I'm closest to. I genuinely lov- uh, I enjoy spending time with you. Thats why I've been setting up all these dinners! I want to get closer to you."

Closer!? What was he saying?

Todomatsu's head snapped over to Atsushi. His cheeks red and wet from the tears. "Why? So I can be your personal punching bag? No thanks." Todomatsu wiped his eyes before he started to reach for the door handle. "I'm walking home."

Atsushi grabbed his shoulder and Todomatsu turned back towards him.

"You're not understanding what I'm trying to say, Totty."

"Then make me understand." Todomatsu demanded. No. Challenged.

The space between their faces decreased dramatically during their argument, now Atsushi could see Todomatsu more up close through the dim light of his car. The young Matsuno's cheeks and eyes had become red with anger, slightly puffed out, wet from his tears. Adorable. His brow was scrunched up in frustration but it didn't overshadow his soft, milk-chocolate eyes that bore into Atsushi. Even when Todomatsu was furious with him, he was still so, so cute. He really hasn't changed much at all.

Atsushi remembers those eyes always being full of tears in highschool. Now here they were. Still full of tears and... contempt and anger. Sadness pooled into Atsushi's chest. This isn't how he wanted things to be. But it was. Because of him. How was he supposed to tell Todomatsu how he really felt? He wouldn't believe him, he knew that. Todomatsu would either scoff or wave him off, just assuming Atsushi is condescending to him. So how could he show him? What more could he...

Atsushi, abandoning all reason and restraint, put his hand on the back of Todomatsu's head and pulled him into a kiss.

To say Todomatsu was stunned would be an understatement. His brain had left the station, leaving his body a statue in place. He had never been kissed by anyone. But the electric rush he felt when their lips collided was almost... euphoric. Was it because it was Atsushi kissing him? No, surely this could be how it always feels to kiss anyone. But Atsushi's lips were so warm and soft. His hand was tangled in his hair, holding him so preciously. The scent of his cologne invaded Totty's senses even more. The youngest Matsu couldn't help but let himself be swept away. His eyes fell, half-lidded and instinctly found himself grabbing Atsushi's tie and leaning further into his lips, returning the kiss the best way he knows how, following Atsushi's movements. Further charging the spark and the building heat between them. Atsushi made a groan of approval and his heart practically burst out of his chest. Todomatsu was kissing him back! Atsushi is emboldened by this and can't resist it much longer. He craves more of him. Tantalizingly, Atsushi runs his tongue along the edge of Todomatsu's lips, earning an involuntary gasp from the man, before slipping his tongue between them and-

The change of sensation suddenly snaps Totty out of his haze, reality slamming back into him like a roaring train.

In a matter of seconds his eyes snap open and he roughly shoves Atsushi away from him as if the man had just stung him. Todomatsu glued his back to the window like a cornered rabbit and furiously started wiping his mouth off on his suit sleeve.

"W-What the hell, Atsushi!?" Todomatsu exclaims, his voice muffled against the fabric of his suit.

Atsushi breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath as Totty frantically wipes his mouth clean. Despite the young Matsu's current repulsion at his actions, Atsushi wasn't ignorant to the earnestness in that kiss. He kissed Todomatsu... and Todomatsu kissed him back. A smile played across his lips and his head reeled. He wanted to reach out to him again. Pull him in for another kiss and further punctuate just how much he desired him. To further show Todomatsu what he does to him. But he steels himself. He's already done enough damage.

"I'm... sorry." He averted his gaze to the wheel, running a hand through his hair. Disheveling it in his attempt to regain his composure. "I got carried away."

Totty never broke his eyes away from the dashboard, too flustered to look at the man. "Is that all that was?"

No. It was years of pent up feelings spilling out in one big wave.

"I didn't know how else to tell you the truth. You wouldn't have believed me otherwise. I-" Atsushi gave Todomatsu a small smile. "I love you, Totty. I have for a while now."

Silence fell between the two, the soft humming of the engine being the only sound around them. Todomatsu's hands were in his lap clutched tight into fists, eyes glued to the dashboard. Atsushi was watching him for any movement. Any change in body language. Or even just to look at him, yell at him, something!

But he didn't.

"Totty?"

"Take me home, please."

"If you just let me-"

"I want to go home, Atsushi!"

Atsushi gave a defeated sigh and adjusted himself in his seat, switching gears, and driving off to the Matsuno house. His stomach churned the whole drive. He thought he would be sick. Todomatsu never spoke to him. He never even looked over at him.

He felt as if he just blew his shot. He might not ever see Totty after this. Totty could just never speak to him again. He'd never hear his cute laugh, see his smile, or hear him say his name ever again. His chest grew heavy. His heart feeling like it was going to shatter.

Even more so when the car drew closer to the Matsu home. He parked just outside and turned to look at Todomatsu, who was looking back at him finally. His expression was soft. Apologetic. Sad. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever before Todomatsu spoke.

"Did you really mean all that? Everything you said back there." He asked

"Of course." Atsushi answered without hesitation.

"You... really like me?"

More than you know.

"Yes, Totty." As if that wasn't perfectly clear by now.

Todomatsu felt his heart do a flip. To hear Atsushi say that... it made him happier than he'd admit. Everything was becoming a bit clearer now and Todomatsu sighed. "Okay. Well... maybe we should start over."

"Should we?"

"Yes!" Todomatsu sat up straight. "I want to do this over. With you. If that's okay?"

Atsushi nodded with a smile.

"Good. Now go ahead and ask me out to dinner again."

"Why?"

"Just do it, Atsushi!"

"Fine. Totty, will you go out on a date with me?"

A blush exploded over Totty's face. "D-Don't call it a date!"

"But that's exactly what it is. I'm literally asking you out on a date."

Todomatsu gave a half pout and avoided eye contact. "Fine. Call it what you want... I guess... yeah, sure, I'll go out to dinner. With you."

Atsushi's heart soared. He didn't admit it was a date. But it was close enough. He knew how stubborn Totty could be. This was the best he was going to get for now and he wouldnt want it either way.

"Thank you." Atsushi said with a nod.

Todomatsu opened the door and started to step out. But not before turning to Atsushi with a slight glare.

"And... don't tell anyone what happened... back there. With the... you know that thing you did."

Atsushi cocked his head, he can't help but tease him. "You mean the thing we did?"

"No. You! That was all you and we are never speaking of it again!"

"If I recall correctly," Atsushi gave Todomatsu a smirk that he so desperately wanted to smack off his face. "You kissed me back."

Todomatsu turned beet red.

"I kissed you back because you forced me into an awkward situation and I didn't want to make you feel bad!" Todomatsu huffed. "You're the one who took it too far!"

"If you says so." Atsushi chuckled. "Also, you're yelling." He pointed to Totty's upstairs window where, to Todomatsu's horror, five identical heads were peering out the window.

His face now red as a tomato, slammed Atsushi's door shut and ran up to the house, trying to pretend he couldn't hear the man laughing inside the car. Atsushi made sure he got inside safely before driving away, his heart pounding hard against his chest. A new exciting feeling budding in his stomach. He had never felt more successful than he did at this very moment.

Todomatsu watched through a window as Atsushi's car disappeared around the corner. A small smile played on his lips and he reached up to touch them with his fingers. His face reddening as he did so.

"Smug bastard."

[susustories]

Warnings: Swearing.

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Word count: 2005

Anonymous:  this can be either platonic or romantic, but, todoroki’s friend/s/o just fighting endeavor (with her tongue and witty words) and the entire family’s there for that- like she’s now apart of the family and can go to family dinners and stuff, you’re not doing financially well? oh, that’s weird how did a frack ton of money just appear? you have a bad family, screw them just live here we already have a room for you. being bullied- oh boy is he in the hospital

A/N: Aaa, this was nice to write! It’s a cute idea, but i was in an angsty mood so I tried very hard to keep the fluffy atmosphere and I hope I did it right! I was originally going to do it like a small headcanons post or a very small scenario thing but here we are. Thank you for the request!!

You and Todoroki have been dating for a few months now, and usually, it would mean that you should’ve at least met his family once. But Todoroki wasn’t a very common case, you learned, and you were still learning with each day you spent with him. 

It took him a while to open up to you at first, but you were patient with him. When you found out about..well, everything, you were glad you were. 

Apparently nothing was beneath the Number One Bastard as you dubbed him now, and you were disappointed. Your blood boiled whenever you saw him on screen, whenever people praised him as if he weren’t the bastard he truly is. You couldn’t blame them, but it still upset you.

You couldn’t imagine how bad it must be for him to constantly be told how amazing and heroic his abuser was. How people wanted to see him grow up to be a ‘great hero like him.’ Every time that happened you found a way to end the conversation and go back where you two could be alone, so you could give him the most reassuring hug you could give. It was your best, and it was enough for him- that’s what he said.

You both already did so much to keep your relationship on the low, and although he told you that Endeavor changed, you understood why he was still anxious. Back then, anything his father saw as a distraction had to be removed so Shouto could stay focused on the goal he had in mind for him, and he was afraid of losing you, even if it seemed unlikely now.

So when he came to tell you that you were going to see that bastard, you were worried. “Why? I thought you didn’t want him to know?” You asked softly, sitting next to him, your hand gently running through his soft, fluffy hair.

He melted into the touch, his arms gently wrapping around you as he cuddled closer to you. Todoroki desired affection, having been starved from it at a very young age, and you were glad to offer. It still made you smile how he looked so cute cuddling close to you like a small child, and he had a way of making it look very cute, but you didn’t know his secret yet.

He sighed, “He found out.”

“Oh.” Came your intelligent reply. You took a deep breath, pulling him closer. “It’s alright, it’ll be okay. I’ll make sure nothing goes wrong, alright? Besides, even if he decides to be an asshole I won’t let him! I’m not training to be a hero for nothing! I’ll be there for you, Shoucchan.” You said encouragingly as you held him close. You’d make sure nothing goes wrong. 

-

You were serious about everything you said that time, and your words manifested into actions a few days later during your visit. 

Shouto’s sister was present, and you were honestly glad. She was just as great as Shouto had told you, she was kind and very humble. Unlike some people.

He asked you about your family, your quirk, your internship, your grades- it frustrated you to no end. You hated sitting around and being interrogated like some sort of criminal. Fuyumi tried her best to lighten up the atmosphere, but it didn’t do much. It didn’t help that you already hated him before coming here, and seeing him in person just elevated those feelings. He may have changed, ever so slightly, but he still bothered you. Whenever you saw him you couldn’t help but think of the man he was to Shouto and his family. Sure, maybe you shouldn’t have reacted so strongly to his mere presence, but you did.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask another question, you stood up, glaring at him with utter disgust and all that anger you’ve been trying to bury deep inside you this whole time. “Enough!” You could see the Todoroki siblings stiffen in their seats while Endeavor looked shocked for a moment at your outburst, before glaring right back at you, daring you to continue. 

“You’re not checking the specifications for some headphones for God’s sake! I didn’t come here to be interrogated. You’re so entitled for someone who doesn’t have enough common sense to deal with a five year old, dammit!” His eyes widened slightly at the last comment, knowing exactly what you were hinting at, but you weren’t done yet. No, you were just getting started.

“People put you on a pedestal as if you were some sort of God, but you’re only a selfish bastard who doesn't care about anyone but himself, and you know it! You’re-” Shouto gently put a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze to calm you down, whispering quietly. “Y/N, it’s fine. How about we leave? I’ll tell Fuyu you liked the food, and maybe we can all go meet up later if you want.” He suggested calmly, trying to deescalate the situation.

You grit your teeth, then nodded, letting out a huff of disappointment. You were mad, yes, but you weren’t going to upset Shouto. You glanced back at his bastard of a father, then frowned upon noticing the guilt in his eyes.You felt bad, you shouldn’t feel so bad for someone like him but you weren’t some heartless monster. 

You sighed softly as you walked out with Todoroki, hoping Fuyumi-san could forgive you, you really wanted to show her more appreciation for the food she prepared, but the damage was already done. You just wanted to get out of there before you could mess things up more. However, you do admit that yelling at him felt nice. He deserved getting called out on his bullshit for once.

Todoroki took your hand in his as he led you out and walked aimlessly with you in the quiet streets of Musutafu. He was silent for a few minutes, and you were worried you had upset him, then he spoke up as a soft smile tugged at his face.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, stopping and turning to fully face you, squeezing your hand gently.

You blushed slightly at the comment, you expected him to be upset at you for ruining things, it’s not like he wanted to invite you to dinner, but you thought he would’ve preferred it if nothing like that had happened. It wasn’t the best first impression after all.

“You...I was anxious at first, when we went there, but after what you did…” He smiled wider, his heterochromatic eyes conveying too many emotions at once for you to understand, but his love and admiration for you were clear as day.

“I love you, so much. You’re always ready to do anything for me, and I want you to know that I’d always be willing to do the same. And I want to apologize for never telling him to stop, but back then I-”

You tackled him in a tight hug, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek, catching him off guard. “First off, you don’t need to thank me, I’d be glad to do that any day, you know. I love you too, Shoucchan. I know it must’ve been stressful for you, so you don’t need to apologize, alright? I know that you’ll be there for me when I need you to be, you always are.” You mumbled quietly as he held you, arms tightly wrapped around you in a gentle, warm embrace as the snow continued to fall around you both. 

“I know. I’m not upset that you did that, I’m just...surprised, impressed even.” He chuckled softly, holding you tighter, warming his left side slightly and making you cuddle closer to him. 

He buried his face in your hair, closing his eyes.“People are always intimidated by him and his status as the Number One hero, I was just...shocked to see someone scream at him like that.” He murmured softly, his tone fond as his warm fingers ran through your hair in the cold winter. You smiled, hugging him tighter. “You should’ve listened when I told you I didn’t give a shit about his hero rank.” You commented, smirking slightly as you pressed another kiss to his cheek. He looked so pretty during winter for some reason, and there was always something about his cheeks that made you want to kiss him. He looked so soft...like a small little child. It suited him, he was so sweet and cute, he might as well be one himself.

He nodded, his eyes looking directly into yours, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip. “I’m so lucky, aren’t I?” Before you could even think of a response, you felt his lips softly press against yours, his arms wrapped around your waist and lifting you up. You closed your eyes, kissing back, letting your hands cup his soft face as the blush on your cheeks only got brighter. You could see a light blush on his cheeks once you opened your eyes again to stare back at his.

Then, you decided to break silence, clearing your throat as you noticed people looking at the couple who just randomly kissed in the street. And maybe the prettiest boy they’ll ever see.

“So..cold soba?” You said, your face flushed in embarrassment.

He nodded with a smile. “Cold soba.”

-

A few weeks and family meetings —Excluding Endeavour—later, you and the Todoroki’s have begun getting closer, especially you and the oldest brother, Natsuo. 

You would hang out with them, and maybe stay over sometimes at Fuyumi’s insistence, and they were good company. When Shouto mentioned the first meeting with Endeavour to Natsuo in front of you, you weren’t sure what to expect, but certainly not a “Ha, he had it coming!”. And with that, your friendship blossomed. 

He would do your homework for you sometimes, and even drive you to places, and in turn, you and him would have some relatively harmless fun at the flame hero’s expense. 

For instance, there was this one day where he told you he needed you for an important task, and you decided to go and meet him up near Endeavor’s place, and he stood there with some eggs, a mischievous grin on his face as he told you he wanted you to egg his father’s house with him. 

Truth to be said, it was an important task, and you weren’t disappointed.

Fuyumi on the other hand, enjoyed seeing Shouto happy with you. She loved her siblings, and she’d do anything to ensure that they were happy, and seeing Shouto smile and laugh with you around made her happier than anything else. She wasn’t a fan of arguments but she never got upset with you because of it. Fuyumi would make you chocolate chip cookies, and give you some each week, she was like a second mother to you, except better.

She was also smart, and a teacher, so you went to her with advice a lot and she always helped. She helped you correct grammatical errors in your essays, which you were endlessly grateful for because you were always busy with your work study.

The two of your would go shopping together sometimes, and whenever your gaze lingered on something for too long, she noticed. She was more observant than you’d given her credit for at first, but it was a pleasant surprise when she got you that black coat you’d wanted to buy back at the store with her.  

When they moved out after Shouto started working with his friends, they invited you over more, and you always felt right at home there...they never made you feel pressured to participate in activities you didn’t want to, or act a certain way. It felt like being with your family, but different.

It was a nice kind of different, you told yourself, a content smile on your face as you and Fuyumi watched a cute cartoon movie about gems.

Yeah, a nice kind.

[wisdomrays]

TAFAKKUR: Part 379

THE QUR'AN AND ESTABLISHED SCIENTIFIC FACTS: Part 4

CONFLICT BETWEEN RELIGION AND SCIENCE?

Seeing religion and science or scientific studies as two conflicting disciplines is a product of the Western attitude towards religion and science. In order to understand the background of the historical conflicts between science and Christianity in the West, we should first discuss the main reasons why sciences have developed in the West in recent centuries.

Christianity and changing Western way of thinking

When, after years of struggle and the lives of thousands of martyrs, Christianity became the state religion of the Roman Empire, it found itself in a climate where epicurean and naturalistic attitudes prevailed and human knowledge was sanctified.

The teaching of Jesus, which would later to be called Christianity, won the victory in its struggle with the Roman Empire but unfortunately at the expense of losing its original identity and purity. Besides, deviating from being a middle way as a God-revealed religion, theoretically, it restricted itself to love and condemned nature as a veil separating man from God. Also, influenced by Near Eastern religions like Mithraism and Manichaeism, it turned to be a completely mystical religion. However, the earth or nature is seen in Islam and, of course, in God-revealed religions, as a realm where God’s Most Beautiful Names are manifested, a realm on which minds should reflect in order to reach God Almighty, and which is itself a reflection of Paradise.

Certainly, it was the Church which, having announced itself as the body of Christ enjoying his authority, shaped Christianity in the mould explained above and later campaigned to seize, besides its spiritual, the worldly power also. In the centuries during which the West was under the dominion of the Church, a magnificent civilization flourished in the Muslim East. As a result of the West’s contact with this civilization through the Crusades and by way of Andalusia, the West had also the opportunity to learn about antiquity. Greek philosophy, especially Aristotelianism, Roman naturalism and also Greek epicurism and hedonism found their way to the Western thinking. When this Western awakening to antiquity through the translations from Arabic and by way of the Muslim centers of learning in Andalusia and Sicily, was united with Western envy of the prosperity of the Muslim East, the ground was prepared for the Renaissance.

Western ways of thinking changed greatly. The ‘iron wall’ between Western attitude and Islam which the Church had built up over centuries, caused this change to evolve against religion. Having teared that it would lose its worldly power, the Church severely resisted this change. The corrupted Bible was no longer able to answer the questions that arose in inquiring minds about creation and the order of the universe. The Old Testament had been lost long centuries before during the Assyrian invasion of Jerusalem. The texts to hand were written down by Jewish scholars, who certainly had in mind the problems of the Jewish community at that time. None of the Gospels, which had been chosen out of hundreds and accepted as canonical, was the original one which God sent to Jesus, upon him be peace. Besides, none of them was written by the apostles or disciples of Jesus. So, the symbolical language of Divine Scriptures-symbolical because they addressed every level of understanding at all times and in all places-was lost. As a result, for example, in the description of creation, the Old Testament mentions seven days like the days of the world. It says: ‘And there was evening, and there was morning-the first day.’ Whereas, the conception of a day of morning and evening belongs to us, who live on earth. The Qur’an also mentions days and that God created the universe in six days. But it never mentions mornings and evenings and presents ‘day’ as a relative period whose measure is not known to us. For example, in the verses: The angels and spirit ascend to Him in a day whereof the span is fifty thousand years (70.4), and They will bid you hasten on the Doom, and God fails not His promise, but a Day with God is a thousand years of what you reckon (22.47), and He directs the affair from the heaven unto the earth; then it ascends unto Him in a Day, whereof the measure is a thousand years of what you reckon (32.5).

The failure of Christianity and the Bible to answer the questions put by inquiring Western minds caused the direction of scientific developments to be opposed to religion. However, the great scientists such as Galileo or Bacon and others were not irreligious at all. They favoured a new interpretation of the Bible. Certain scientists and theologians tried to do that. For example, Roger Bacon was in favour of experimental methods in scientific investigations but he also defended the notion that one could attain knowledge of heavenly things through spiritual experience. Thomas Acquinas, whom some introduce as the Christian counterpart of Imam Ghazzali of the Muslim East, tried to reconcile Christianity with Aristotelianism. Another theologian. Nicolas de Cusa, opposed the astronomy of Ptolemy but emphasized the profound meaning of the limitless universe whose center is everywhere and peripheries nowhere. Nevertheless, the efforts of such theologians and scientists to reconcile Christianity with science were not enough to prevent science finally breaking with religion. This was partly due to the severe opposition of the Church to scientific developments for fear of losing its power, and partly because of the Western awakening to a material life.

Truly, as Professor Tawney says, quoted by Small is Beautiful by Schumacher, in the medieval period, people usually aimed at eternal happiness in economic activities and enterprises. They feared economic motives that appeared in the form of strong desires. A man had the right to gain enough money to lead a life according to his social status but to try to gain more meant greed for money and was a grave sin. Wealth and property had to be obtained through lawful ways and circulate among as many people as possible. However, the Renaissance changed social or even moral standards prevalent in the Middle Ages, or, we might say, changes in those standards gave birth to the Renaissance. Even a superficial glance at the arts of the period suffices to reveal this fundamental change from the moral and spiritual to the material. For example, sculpture-in the view of Sokorin, the product of the desire to escape death and the mental ‘diesase’ of representing mortals in the shape of young, immortal deities-used the female body to model passionate desires and pleasures, deceit, sexuality and physical beauty. In Renaissance art, Virgin Mary was no longer an image of modesty and chastity, inspiring respect and compassion; instead, she began to be painted as a woman with physical charms. The David of Michelangelo is a powerful, muscular youth, an image representing bodily perfection.

The man of the Renaissance desired to be like Odysseus, well-built, comely, intelligent, powerful and skilful in oratory. He was convinced that to become like Odysseus was possible through knowledge. Nevertheless, as will be seen in the following verses, ‘God’ of the Bible was jealous of man and had forbidden him to eat of the fruit of knowledge:

The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. And the Lord God commanded the man, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die.

And the Lord God said, “(by eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil), the man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live for ever.” So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken.

These verses of the Bible which would certainly be antipathetic to the feelings of a typical man of the Renaissance and remind him of the Greek deities who forbade man the sacred fire. Therefore, what fired the imagination of the Renaissance man was to become a Prometheus, who rebelled against the gods and stole the sacred fire from them. This change of attitude towards religion and life is one of the foremost points to emphasize if we are to understand the conflict between science and religion in the West.

[codenamesazanka]

I was gonna save this for my fic Interference by Half but let’s be real, idk when I’ll ever update that and this is an idea I’ve always wanted to share because I’ve hated the ‘just wear gloves’ “solution” for Tenko/Tomura, so:

If you give Tomura (pre-Deika) a pencil, and he touches it with five fingers, it’ll disintegrate. As long as he doesn’t touch the pencil with five fingers, it’ll be okay and he’ll be able to use it. Which is why Tomura is always shown grabbing things with only a few fingers, and why he was unable to decay ‘Sand’ in Chapter 160. 

Gloves - whether with some of the fingers cut off, as is most often headcanon’d, or each finger is made of different material - is one solution. We see little Tenko with gloves when he is taken in by AfO after manifesting his quirk:

But, see, I’ve always thought, how annoying. How uncomfortable it must be to have to keep gloves on 24/7. Sure, you can get some super-soft, thin-cloth ones; but it must still be bothersome, wearing, washing, getting it wet, etc. What if he gets a rash? So it always made sense to me that instead, Shigaraki would learn to have meticulous control over his fingers - free hands, and able to use his quirk whenever should he need to. 

For a child just starting to learn to use his quirk, this can be hard, true. So how to practice? How to keep his hands free? How can you accommodate a quirk like Decay? Instead of forcing Tenko/Tomura to wear gloves, what about spicing up his surroundings? 

So I thought, to use the pencil example above, why not wrap the pencil in ribbons or yarn? 

Strings of different yarn, ribbons; stickers and fancy tape; patchwork cloth of different materials. On pencils, controllers, toothbrushes, doorknobs, cups, etc. Semi-yarn-bomb the house! Decorate! It doesn’t impede anyone else living with him or using the same objects. 

So that he’s never actually touching an object with five fingers. One finger on wood, one finger on a sticker, one finger on a the yarn. 

It’s not a perfect solution, it’s not 100% decay-proof. There will be unlucky mistakes. Maybe I have the parameters for his quirk wrong. It’ll probably be useless once he’s in post-Deika self (or even, pre-massacre/he never loses his memories?)

But I think, for AU fics that have Tenko growing up normally or rescued, it’s worth considering what his caretakers might do to help him out, adapt his environment to his circumstances, embrace how he is, stuff like that. ‘Solutions’ or changes or a different perspective that make him feel a bit more normal, instead of “The kid who has to wear gloves 24/7 because his quirk is that dangerous”, maybe. 

The Social Model of Disability is where I drew inspiration from: the idea of disability being a result of the barrier of attitude and structure in society. 

“...A town designed with wheelchairs in mind, with no stairs or escalators. If we designed our environment this way, wheelchair users would be able to be as independent as everyone else. It is society which puts these barriers on people by not making our environments accessible to everyone.”

I’ve once read somewhere that superpowers don’t do as well as a metaphor of racism, as it’s often used for, than as a metaphor for disability. Differing levels of abilities, of what people can or can’t do. It’s not a straight analogy, of course, and there’s definitely issues that can arise from it. 

But I feel like this fits in the HeroAcaWorld of quirks. People with ‘unusual’ bodies that should be considered when constructing buildings and public spaces. Quirks that allow someone to do more, or less, than most of the population, but it shouldn’t affect their status as a person living in society. Ideally, a world where people aren’t forced into a ‘normal’ standard/body/lifestyle/functioning at the expense of some integral part of themselves. 

Which is what a lot of the conflict in the series comes down to, ultimately. 

[bangtann-bangdamn]

<OT7>

After reading Taehyung’s new book from his beloved antique store, Jin and Yoongi find themselves transformed into parakeets. 

Warnings: None. This is an absolute crack piece 

Word Count: 6957

Master List

AN: This entire fic was a result of seeing this post in June 2019 and I have been working on it ever since. I love this story so much that I’m low key thinking about making this into a series. So if you love it, let me know!

Taehyung missed his grandmother. It wasn’t something he spoke about very often, but he did. He didn’t feel like he could voice this to his parents either, because, despite entrusting his care into her hands for most of his childhood, his grandmother was quite eccentric. But his parents had very little options in terms of child-care for Taehyung as they were often away on business. 

Most of his peers felt bad for Taehyung when he mentioned this, but he had felt lucky for it meant that he got to spend his childhood trailing after his grandmother as she travelled to different parts of the town that he knew his mother would hate. His grandmother was a very popular woman, and so she spent her days visiting strange stores filled with smells that were both alarming and comforting and never quite distinguishable for Taehyung to find out what it was, and restaurants that always seemed to be full of noise but lacking in customers.

He always felt like they were on their own private adventure when he accompanied his grandmother on her trips, but there was one place in particular that he was always excited to go to.  On the outside, the store was nothing special. A simple concrete building with a discrete sign hanging over its white door. Nothing on the outside to give away the treasure that hid inside. 

His grandmother always called it the ‘antique’ store, but Taehyung knew it was more than that. It was a magical wonderland of hidden treasures. He would rush in front of his grandmother so he could take his time walking down each section, touching all the different treasures that decorated the shelves. He would always imagine the people they might have belonged to, the journeys they had been on to end up in some antique shop in Seoul. He liked to think that even the most mundane of objects had been on fabulous adventures.

Like the table lamp his grandmother had once bought. With its intricate embellishments on its legs, to the thin lace lamp shade that cast patterns all across the walls. He would think to himself that it had belonged to a young sorceress once upon a time who bespelled the lamp to never break, despite looking like one wrong knock could shatter it. It brought him a sense of calm walking through the shop whilst his grandmother spoke in low whispers to the owner about the small collection of books that were stored behind a locked cabinet at the back of the room. 

When his grandmother had passed when he was eighteen, he had found solace in the antique store. Everything in his life was changing, but the antique store was always there to support him. Even as he moved to a different part of Seoul to attend university, he always made time to visit. 

He was always coming home with some new intricate object to decorate his apartment, which would have been fine if he had lived alone. But, as it was, he shared his apartment with two other men who had very strong opinions about the antique shop.

Mostly, Jin and Yoongi thought Taehyung’s great purchases were a little weird. 

Even Taehyung had to admit that his purchasing had gotten a little out of control when he brought home a real skull that one time. After that, Jin and Yoongi had made Taehyung promise to get one of their approval before bringing anything home.

Which is how Taehyung found himself on his knees in front of his eldest roommate.

"Please!" Taehyung begged, clutching his hands together and screwing up his face into the biggest pout he could physically manifest in the hopes that Jin could not refuse.

Jin continued to play on his Switch, frowning as he tried to keep his gaze focused on his Animal Crossing character and not Taehyung’s pout. After all, he needed all his concentration to catch those pesky butterflies. "Ah, Taehyung, can't you see I'm busy?" 

"But you're the only one around! Yoongi's gone to work." Taehyung unclutched his hands as he stood back up and took a seat on the sofa beside Jin. 

Jin groaned. "What about Jungkook?” he offered reluctantly. Whilst Jungkook wasn’t known for his sensible purchases (no seriously, the kid once bought speakers the size of his body that he couldn’t use due to the sheer volume they produced, but refused to buy himself a real pillow for his bed), but at least he was reliable.  “Doesn't he have free time today? He can have my vote." 

Taehung folded his arms across his chest. "He has university." He pouted.

"Jimin?" Jin looked up from his game as he thought. Jimin could be trusted. He wasn’t really known for buying random junk to clog up his apartment. Although, he was known to encourage Taehyung’s somewhat questionable fashion choices. 

"Visiting his mum and won't be back until this evening." Taehyung smiled, already knowing that he had won this argument. 

"Doesn't Namjoon like all that old crap?" Jin spat humorlessly as he returned to his game. He couldn’t trust Namjoon with Taehyung, which was a surprise to him as well. The usually level-headed one in their group had been easily swayed by a plant. Yes, you read that correctly. A plant. Which meant he was compromised, but Jin was willing to let it go this time if he meant he didn’t have to go himself.

Jin and Yoongi had grown to love the hideous clock Namjoon had encouraged Taehyung to buy, which was why he would prefer Namjoon to go than to suffer another trip to the antique shop.

"Yeah, but he's working too."

"Damn." Jin paused his game as he thought. He knew he was running out of options here and if he couldn’t trump Taehyung soon, then he was really going to have to bite the bullet and go with him. The alternative was to allow Taehyung go alone and risk him returning with some other obnoxiously loud object. 

"Ah-ha!" Jin clicked his fingers in triumph. "Hoseok said he had the day off today."

"That's true, he did." Taehyung slowly nodded his head as he thought about his friend.

Jin grinned as he resumed his game. He was going to treat himself by buying something pretty from Tom Nook. 

"Shame he decided to do some overtime."

Jin groaned as he saved his game. Of course he did. Hoseok loved his job. He had never met a man who was more excited at the prospect of going to work than Jung Hoseok. Seriously, it wasn’t natural.  "Fine. But you owe me one!"

Taehyung jumped to his feet, fist-bumping the air as he yelled, "Yes!"

-

“Ah, Taehyung, why do you need to go to the store today?” Jin moaned, not for the first time since they left the apartment. Why did it have to be so far from their home?

“Hyung, I thought you said you liked the antique shop!” Taehyung tried to pout, but he couldn’t quite hide the smile from his face. He had been trying to squash his excitement ever since they left for fear that Jin would catch on to his plan. 

“No, I said I like leaving the antique shop.” Jin rolled his eyes as they crossed the street to the antique store. “The Korean BBQ place next door is the best in the country."

"I already said I would buy you lunch, hyung." Taehyung laughed as he opened the door to the store. He held it open for Jin.

"Good, as long as we’re clear that I’m here for the food and not the antique shop.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Noted.” He  let the door go as he turned to face the owner, an elderly man who sat behind the counter. His glasses were the thickest Taehyung had ever seen, and yet the man still seemed to narrow his eyes as he looked over to Jin and Taehyung. 

“Afternoon, Mr Choi!” Taehyung waved as he walked over to the counter with a smile.

“Ah, there’s my favourite customer!” Mr Choi stood, returning Taehyung’s smile as he walked around the counter to shake Taehyung’s hand. He leaned heavily against the counter, but that didn’t seem to deter him from looking up at Taehyung.

“Anything new to see?” Taehyung could barely conceal his excitement. 

“Of course, of course. Come with me.” Mr Choi waved for Taehyung to follow him to the back of the shop.

Taehyung turned back to face Jin. “Are you going to be okay for a moment?” 

Jin shrugged, taking a seat on one of the red velvet chairs that was packed in between a large grandfather clock, and an equally large and clearly phallic looking wooden statue. “Just don’t buy anything too obtrusive,” Jin called after Taehyung, who had not waited for Jin’s response. 

Jin sighed. That was the real reason why Jin didn’t like coming to the antique shop. Whilst Taehyung went off to explore the shop, Jin was usually left to sit alone. Of course, he could go with Taehyung but after the last time they had both agreed it was probably for the best if Jin remained seated. The shop was kind of crowded and his broad shoulders tended to… disagree with the shop. And after he had almost broken a statue that was not only ten times his age, but cost more than his parent net worth, he didn’t want to risk it. But it wasn’t the worst place to spend an afternoon. He had to admit (under the heavy influence of alcohol, mind) that he actually did enjoy going to the antique shop. It was like stepping into another world. A world where anything was possible. 

Even so, Jin couldn’t bring himself to relax whenever he stepped foot in the store. Whilst they were a similar height, Taehyung seemed to navigate the store with ease. Jin always found himself uncomfortably close to disaster with every breath. Even seated, Jin found that it would be far too easy to knock over some ridiculously expensive lamp. So he sat rigid, focusing on not moving at all. He definitely didn’t want to be forced into spending a couple hundred on some ugly ornament that Taehyung would force him to keep because he broke it.

So that meant Jin was left alone to stare around the shop.

Seriously, who would buy a ginormous wooden statue that looked like a penis? 

Jin closed his eyes as he tried to expel the image from his mind.

-

“Thank you, Mr Choi. This is perfect!” 

Jin jumped slightly in his chair as Taehyung’s voice rang through the shop. He hadn’t been sleeping. He was just resting his eyes. 

How long had Taehyung been this time? He could never tell when he was in this store. Time seemed to stop and it wasn’t like Taehyung was a fast shopper in the first place. Jin had lost count of the time where Taehyung had meandered around the store whilst Jin tried not to fall asleep. Those trips were the worst because they were always the ones where Jin... 

Taehyung rounded the corner with Mr Choi on his heel.

Jin stood quickly, trying to look inconspicuous as he stretched out his limbs. But in his haste to stand, Jin threw out his elbow just a little too roughly and accidently knocked the lamp. He quickly reached over to stop it from tumbling to the floor, glancing to make sure Taehyung and Mr Choi hadn’t noticed the near disaster. 

Luckily, neither of them were playing Jin any attention. Jin sighed as he returned the lamp to its position before carefully making his way over to where Taehyung stood by the counter. 

“- the moment I saw it, I knew there was only one customer who should have it. It was one of your grandmother’s favourite’s.”

“I know,” Taehyung agreed, staring down at the book in his hand with a sad smile. “I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”

Jin peered at the book in Mr Choi’s hand with disinterest. From his glance, it looked like an ordinary hard back. The brown, worn down cover was plain, the spine written in a faded gold font in a language Jin didn’t recognise. 

“-but I should pay something towards it,” Taehying continued as he reached for his wallet.

Mr Choi shook his head, holding out his hand to stop Taehyung from pulling out any money. “Don’t be ridiculous. Consider this a gift for my favourite customer.”

“Mr Choi…”

“No buts. It’s yours.” Mr Choi wrapped the book in tissue paper before placing it in a paper bag, which Jin thought was incredibly unnecessary. The book was old and clearly worn out. It definitely didn’t need to be handled with care. But he kept the comment to himself. He didn’t want to jeopardize a free lunch from Taehyung. 

“Thank you, Mr Choi.” Taehyung bowed low, unable to keep the tears from his eyes as he smiled at the olerman. 

“Ah, enough with the formalities. You go and enjoy the rest of your day with your friend. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see the back of this place.” Mr Choi nodded his head towards Jin and, whilst he did so with a smile, Jin could help but feel a little chastised. 

-

“So what exactly is the book about?” Jin asked through a mouthful of meat. He couldn’t believe that the simple book was all that Taehyung had been after in the end.

Taehyung glanced at the bag on the seat beside him, chopsticks playing with the food in his bowl. “I think this is the book my grandmother used to have a copy of, but it got lost when she passed away.”

“But it’s written in gibberish!” Jin tried to remember the title of the book, but the characters flew across his mind and made as much sense as they did when he first read them. He shook his head. 

“It’s latin, not gibberish.” He peered into the bag once more. “At least, I hope it’s Latin.”. He shrugged. “She liked a mystery. She used to spend her time translating books like this for fun.”

Jin stopped shoveling food into his mouth as he gaped at Taehung. “You know what, it makes sense now. I get why you’re so weird.” Jin nodded sagely, smile tugging at his lips. He was only teasing his younger friend, but it did at least provide a little context for Taehyung’s love for some random antique shop.

“Gah, I’m not weird, hyung,” Taehyung laughed.

“You spend all your free time in an antique shop.” Jin deadpanned, tapping his chopsticks on the side of the bowl. 

Taehyung glared at Jin. “I’m not weird,” He muttered as he shoveled some more meat into his mouth.

Jin shrugged. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

-

"Yoongi, guess what the weirdo brought home this time!" Jin called out the moment they returned to the apartment. He let their front door swing wide open and bang into the wall. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes but decided not to comment as he followed the positively excited Jin into their home and closed the door behind them. He was used to this. To  be deemed the weird one. So what if he was passionate about an antique shop? At least he didn’t collect anime figurines like their other friend.

Yoongi sat up on the sofa, blinking blearily at the pair. "Do you have to be so loud? I was sleeping." He rubbed his eyes as he let out a long yawn.

Taehyung giggled as he walked towards the kitchen and placed his bag down on the counter. "Yeah, Jin. You woke Yoongi up." 

“Trust me, you’ll want to be awake for this,” Jin said to Yoongi with a smirk. He turned to Taehyung. “Now show him, brat.”

Taehyung thought about it for a moment. “Nah.” He shook his head, trying his best not to look amused but knowing that he was failing miserably. His cheeks were hurting from trying to suppress his smile. This, too, was to be expected. Jin and Yoongi liked to guess what Taehyung purchased every time they came back. Taehyung didn’t mind. If it made them complain less about what he was buying, then he was all for it. 

He turned away from his hyungs, deciding to get himself a drink of water when his phone chimed. Absentmindedly he pulled his phone from his pocket as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard. 

Jimin: You free tonight?

Taehyung: Depends… What are you proposing?

Jimin: Namjoon’s finally agreed to a night out 😈

Taehyung: Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? 

Jimin: The one and only

Taehyung: Damn, I can be free for that. Let me get changed and I’ll come round for pre-drinks.

Jimin: Sweet. See you soon

Taehyung put his phone back into his pocket before filling his glass with a smile. He could do with a night out. He turned to face Jin and Yoongi once more, finally noting that Jin had been, in fact, talking the entire time Taehyung had been distracted.

“-and that is the last time I ever do something nice for you.” He folded his arms across his chest dramatically, turning away from Yoongi and glaring directly at Taehyung.

Yoongi looked up at the broad-shouldered man with a look that Taehyung could only describe as one that said ‘Who shat in your coco puffs this morning?’

“What?” Taehyung asked, wide-eyed. He had a feeling Jin had just spent the last couple of minutes complaining about their day out and he had completely ignored him.

Yoongi laughing at Jin’s exasperated sigh.

“Gah, why do I even bother?” Jin sank down further in the seat beside Yoongi, dramatically flailing his limbs in the process.

Taehyung giggled before announcing, “I’m just going to get changed and then I’m off out.” 

Yoongi nodded silently whilst Jin continued to pout. But the moment they heard Taehyung’s door close, Jin was on his feet and pouncing towards the bag Taehyung had left on the counter. He picked up the book carelessly before bringing it over to Yoongi.

“See, what did I say? Another useless piece of junk to lay around the apartment. I mean, he could have picked something useful, like the chair I was sitting on or something but oh no.” Jin flicked through the pages, disgust colouring his features. “He had to pick up this book of gibberish.” He dropped the book onto the coffee table.

“It looks like Latin to me,” Yoongi contemplated as he picked up the book and opened it to a random page. He marvelled at the intricate drawing of parakeets adorned on the left side of the page. “Must be a book about animals. Look it even says convertens est animalis. It practically has ‘animal’ in the title.” Yoongi pointed to the top of the book, raising his brow as if he had solved the biggest mystery in the universe; how Jeon Jungkook managed to sleep in a bed with no bedding. 

Jin scoffed. “Alright, Min genius. What does the rest of it say, if you’re so smart.” Jin rolled his eyes. He had low expectations of Yoongi actually being able to read the dead language, but he couldn’t see the harm in letting him try. 

Yoongi inspected the book closely. “Volatilia ad sibi similia,” Yoongi mused. “That sounds kind of familiar.” He leant back in the chair once more, lifting the book to his face. 

As Yoongi silently read, Jin decided that he was going to see if he could find more information on the book online. He pulled out his phone, determined to search for the title of the book. 

Mutantur et nos.

Huh. Well that didn’t sound good, Jin thought as he typed it into his phone. Surely a book that had ‘mutant’ on the cover was going to lead to no good?

The first result led to a wikipedia page for Tempora Mutantur. It explained the term as the ‘changes that passages of time brings’, but was more commonly known as  Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis -  ‘Times are changed, we also are changed with them.’

Jin narrowed his eyes. Well, that wasn’t helpful in the slightest. Jin continued to scroll through the results, but not one linked to the book in Yoongi’s hand.

“Huh,” Yoongi expelled. He glanced at the front cover.

“What?” Jin lowered his phone to glance at the man beside him.

“I think this is a magic book.” Yoongi met Jin’s gaze with wide eyes.

“Pft, I doubt that.” Jin laughed. “It’s some stupid book that was probably written in the last half of the century that Taehyung was conned into taking home. You know, like half the junk he brings home from that place.”

“Hm. Guess it won’t hurt to try it then,” Yoongi countered, sitting up straight.

“Wait, what-”

“Aves sumus,” Yoongi declared proudly. 

For a beat, nothing happened. 

Jin laughed, shaking his head. “See, I told you it was-“

Jin’s head swirled. It was like he was about to faint, the whole room moving around him with the force of an earthquake. The book clattered to the floor beside him.

“-garbage.” Jin stared down at the book, not quite contemplating what happened. He felt funny. Smaller, somehow. He was standing on the edge of the couch, the coffee table, which had been in arm’s reach the moment before, seemed to be miles away from him. But that was impossible. How could the coffee table move in the blink of an eye? “Why did you drop-“ Jin turned towards Yoongi. 

Except Yoongi was no longer next to him. In his place was a beautiful blue parakeet with his head tilted to one side as he peered at Jin.

“Uh, Yoongi… I don’t know how to tell you this, but... you’re a bird.”

The bird – Yoongi – hopped to face Jin. “What do you think you are then?” Yoongi countered without missing a beat.

Jin froze as Yoongi’s words washed over him. He couldn’t really be a bird. That was ridiculous! 

He glanced down at his body, taking in the vibrant green feathers in place of his body and orange claws that stood where his feet once were. 

“Yoongi, what did you do?!” Jin screamed. He could feel his wings stretching at the exclamation, unable to stay still as he felt his heart rate increase. “Are you stupid, why would you read something from the magic book out loud?” Jin edged his way closer to the end of the sofa, contemplating the best way to get onto the floor so he could read the blasted book and find a way to turn them back. “And you’re stupid enough to drop the damn book, gah. So stupid, I swear-“

But the rest of his sentence was forgotten as Yoongi’s body slammed into his and they both went tumbling towards the floor. 

Dazed, Jin could only lie there as the sound of Taehyung walking through the lounge passed them, his brief call of ‘bye’ ringing through the quiet apartment. And then the door closed and any hope of seeking a human’s help - and hands - went out of the window. 

Jin clambered to his feet – talons? “Why would you do that!” he screeched.

“He would have freaked out!” Yoongi struggled to stand, shaking his feathers once upright. 

Jin wanted to strangle Yoongi but he doubted his claws would wrap around Yoongi’s neck enough to satisfy the urge. 

“But he could have helped us!” Jin hopped towards Yoongi, his temper rising. Jin wasn’t one to lose his cool very often, but considering the current situation, he felt like he was fine to be stressed out.

Yoongi, however, remained un-phased as he stretched out his wings and inspected them. “Eh, we can figure it out ourselves.” 

Jin was sure that if they were both human, Yoongi would have shrugged. Instead, Yoongi’s wings gave a slight shudder in what you could have only assumed to be a shrug. 

“Fantastic. And how do you propose we do that without opposable thumbs?” Jin’s head tilted towards the book laying face down on the floor beside them.

“Easy. We just need to turn the book.” Yoongi hopped until he was standing on the book. In his mind, it was quite simple. He would grip the hardback cover between his claws and somehow utilise his wings to fly upwards until the book naturally turned over by sheer force of gravity. 

It was a brilliant idea, Yoongi concluded, because of how simple it was. And everyone knew that the best ideas were always the simplest.

Jin watched as Yoongi struggled to even lift off from the ground. His friend hopped like mad, but no matter how fast he flapped his wings, Yoongi never stayed up for longer than a moment. 

“Maybe try flapping your wings slower,” Jin mused, struggling to keep the humour from his voice. Despite how depressing the whole situation was, he had to admit watching Yoongi trying to flip the book was hilarious. He was pretty sure the only time he’d seen the sullen musician move this much was when Jungkook had tried wrestling him. And even then, that was only to lock himself in his room before Jungkook could get a hold of him. 

“Shut up, hyung. I… got… this…” Yoongi huffed. He stopped jumping, planting his talons firmly on the edge of the book. He took a moment to spread his wings. He had this. If birds could figure it out, so could he.

He flapped his wings hard. Once. Twice. Three times. 

He hovered, slowly gaining more height. Jin whopped as he watched Yoongi slowly taking off from the ground.

But he wasn’t moving fast enough and Yoongi could feel the energy drain from his body. So he did what he thought was the logical thing to do; he started to flap his wings harder. But as he tried to keep the momentum going, he found his body naturally leaned forward and caused him to fly straight into the coffee table with a loud ‘thud’.

The book dropped pathetically to its original position as Yoongi’s head connected to the side of the table, landing on his back beneath it. He groaned, trying to figure out exactly where he had gone wrong when Jin’s green feathered face appeared.

“I told you, stupid. We need Taehyung.”

Yoongi glared up at him. “Fine. Point made.” Yoongi rolled onto his front, talons comically running with the side of his beak firmly pressed to the ground as he attempted to stand once more. Once up, a shudder passed through him, wings briefly opening before settling back at his side. “We’ll just have to wait for him to come home.” 

 “But we don’t know how long he’ll be!” Jin whined, his talons hitting the wooden floor in quick succession. It was a lewd imitation of one of his famous strops.

Yoongi rolled his eyes as he hid behind the leg of the coffee table. He wondered if Jin would notice if he laid down for a few moments. Yoongi was just about to settle himself down when-

“Ah!” Jin tripped over the book.

“Are you finished with your strop now?” Yoongi asked, his amusement not quite hidden in his tone.

“This is all your fault!” Jin cried as he rolled back onto his front and standing with considerably more ease than Yoongi had. “We have no idea how long this – this curse will last! You could have turned us into birds forever, Yoongi. Forever!”

“Sheesh, I’m sure this is all temporary, Jin hyung. No need to get your boxers in a twist.”

“We don’t know that, you idiot. You don’t even know what you said in the first place. For all you know you could have said “I want to be turned into a freaking pigeon for the rest of my life!”

Yoongi hummed. “We’re certainly not pigeon’s, hyung. We look more like budgies.” Yoongi turned to look back at Jin..

“Oh-oh-oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Maybe if I was still in my human body, maybe I could have googled the answer before speaking!” Jin snapped.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. This was all pointless now. The deed was done, they just had to deal with it. Besides, Yoongi thought as he stretched out his wings, he had always dreamt about flying. If he could figure it out, the deal wouldn’t be so bad. 

Jin stopped pacing as he mulled over Yoongi’s words. 

“Jin?” Yoongi stepped closer towards him. “Earth to Jin?”

Jin’s gaze snapped back to Yoongi. “That’s it!” Jin’s talon’s slapped against the wooden floor as he sprinted out of the room.

“Agh, Jin! What did you figure out?” Yoongi made no attempt to follow his older brother. Not because he wasn’t curious. He was, but all that jumping and flapping wings had really taken it out of him and he really didn’t feel like sprinting after Jin.

There was silence for a few moments. Then the sound of something hitting the floor and Jin’s frustrated scream.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi called, leaning against one of the legs of the coffee table.

Yoongi was starting to grow concerned by the silence when Jin appeared around the corner.

“Where’s your phone?” Jin demanded, walking slowly towards him.

“On the sofa…” Yoongi watched as Jin moved towards the sofa, standing just at the foot of it.

“Siri, call Taehyung.” Jin screeched. He waited for the acknowledgement before screaming it again.

“Hyung… what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to remotely call Taehyung. What does it look like I’m doing?” Jin snapped.

“Well, it would help if I had Taehyung saved as ‘Taehyung’ on my phone. That and I don’t have Siri.”

“What do you mean you don’t have Siri?” 

“I don’t trust it. It’s just… weird.”

“It’s not weird. It’s convenient. You know, like right now.”

Yoongi’s right wing twitched in a poor imitation of a shrug. 

“Fat lot of use, you are.” Jin muttered. “There must be something we can do?”

Yoongi watched as Jin started to pace back and forth, talons clacking incessantly. Yoongi doubted that suggesting they simply wait for Taehyung to return would be any help, so he bit his tongue.

Jin groaned as he flopped to the floor. “This is useless. We’re going to die as birds.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Jin. We’re not going to die.”

“Well how do you know that, Yoongi? Did you understand what you read?”

“No.”

“Then we could very well-“

A shrill ring sounded in the apartment, causing both men to freeze.

“Was that- was that the phone?” Jin asked.

“We have a house phone?” 

“Yes, you imbecile. We do.” Jin scattered to his feet, chasing after the sound. “Where is it? Where is it?”

“Have you tried Taehyung-ah’s room?”

Jin hurried to the youngster’s bedroom. “Oh for christ sake, it’s on his damn bed.” The ringing stopped. “And there goes our chance.” 

“Hello. Your call cannot be taken at this moment-“

“What’s that?” Yoongi called as he searched the room for the source of the voice. His gaze landed on a rectangular box next besides the TV.

“The answering machine! Thank you, Namjoon!”

“Please leave your message after the tone.” A beep sounded. The sound of music filled the room.

“Ah, Jin, Yoongi! Jimin and I have decided we want to hit a few clubs. Don’t wait up for me.”  The phone clicked. 

Jin appeared from around the corner. “Was that Taehyung’s voice I heard? Did he say he was on his way home?”

Yoongi was frozen to the spot. Jin was not going to like this. “Not… exactly.”

Jin appeared by his side. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Taehyung-ah was phoning to let us know that… he won’t be home for a while.”

“What!?”

“They’ve gone clubbing.”

“What!?”

“Now, I know what you’re going to say.” Yoongi stepped away from Jin, who was now gazing at Yoongi as if he was contemplating the slowest and most painful way of murdering him.

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Yes. And I just want to say.” They both stopped in their tracks, waiting for the others' reaction first. Yoongi took a deep breath. “You’ll have to catch me first.” He was off before he had even finished speaking, using the element of surprise to get a head start. 

Jin screeched after him, his words an incomprehensible babble as he charged after Yoongi. He only reached the edge of the sofa when he was stopped by the sound of pounding on the door. 

“The door.” Jin changed directions, charging the door. “The door!”

“Jin, watch out!” Yoongi called, far too late. 

Jin tried to slow himself down, talons skidding across the floor before colliding head first into the frame.

Yoongi winced.

“Hello?” Jungkook’s muffled voice called from behind the door. “Hyung’s, are you alright?”

“No!” Jin wailed, moving away from the door with a limp. “Junkook-ah, let yourself in. We need your help!” 

The handle rattled. 

“Please don’t be locked,” Jin prayed.

The door opened slowly, Jungkook’s head appearing around the frame first before the door opened fully.

“Hello?” he called out, glancing around the empty living room. “Jin hyung? Are you here?”

Jin hopped on the ground. “Down here!”

Jungkook frowned as his gaze darted around the room. “Down where?” He stepped into the room. On his second step, his foot landed close to Jin. 

Jin shrieked. “Watch where you're stepping!”

Jungkook looked down, eyes widening in surprise. 

“Jungkook-ah, we need you to grab that book and-“

Jungkook turned on his heel and fled from the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

“Well, that went well,” Yoongi commented. 

Jin spun to face him. “You don’t get to speak.” He hissed. “We wouldn’t be having this problem right now if it weren’t for you.”

“Alright, alright. Remind me to buy you some looser boxers when this is all over with.” Yoongi chuckled, but stop when he realised the murder was very real in Jin’s eyes. “Sorry.”

“Now what are we going to do? Jungkook was our one chance to get help.” Jin slouched, dragging his talons as he made his way back over to the coffee table. He paused by the book, then kicked it with his talon before dropping his body on top of it.

Yoongi waddled towards him. “Jungkook’s seen us now. It’s only a matter of time before he walks back through that door to make sure his video game riddled brain wasn’t lying to him.”

Jin groaned, not bothering to lift his head from the book.

“I’m telling you, hyung. Jin’s a pigeon.” The door swung open once more and Hoseok and Jungkook stepped inside.

Hoseok rubbed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.” He said in a pout.

They both stopped to stare at Yoongi who was still standing in the middle of the room.

“Jungkook. Hoseok. Nothing to see here.” Yoongi waddled towards Jin.

“Ah, why would you tell them that! We need their help!” Jin snapped as he got back up onto his talons. 

“See, I told you.” Jungkook smugly turned to Hoseok. 

Hoseok's eyes widened at the sight, before he promptly fainted. 

“Oh, yeah. Probably should have suspected that would happen.” Jungkook chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand briefly before closing the door. 

“I’ll deal with him.” Yoongi puffed out his chest as he moved towards Hoseok’s body. 

“Jungkook-ah, get your butt over here and pick this book up!” Jin demanded, hopping in front the book to garner the younger man’s attention. 

“Why, what’s a book going to do?” Jungkook slowly picked the book up, frowning as he flicked through the pages.

“Well it’s this blasted book that got us into this mess. Now pick me up so I can read too,” Jin whined, flaying his head from side to side until Jungkook offered Jin his palm. As soon as Jungkook placed him on the table, Jin pecked the table. “Put the book here.”

“Cor, you're still as bossy as ever, hyung,” Jungkook muttered.

“You’re telling me,” Yoongi agreed, inspecting Hoseok’s sleeping floor. “How the hell am I supposed to slap him with no hands?” He mused.  

“Your wings?” Jungkook offered absentmindedly as he turned another page in the book.

Yoongi considered it for a moment, before shrugging. There was no harm in trying, after all. 

Using his talons, he struggled to lift himself up onto Hoseok’s sleeping form. His talons grabbed while he utilised his beak to hoist himself up. Once settled onto his chest, he waddled his way to Hoseok's face. He stretched his wings, contemplating the best way to slap him before deciding to just go with it. 

What he didn’t expect was how lightly his wings would hit Hoseok’s face. 

Hoseok giggled, a happy smile plastered onto his face.

“Jungkook-ah, it’s not working.” Yoongi stopped his assault with a sigh. 

“That tickles,” Hoseok giggled, eyes opening slowly. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment before his eyes landed on Yoongi.

“Morning, sunshine,” Yoongi chirped.

Hoseok screamed, knocking Yoongi off his chest in his attempt to stand. 

Yoongi landed on his feet with a shudder. “Watch what you’re doing!” He barked.

“He’s a bird!” Hoseok pointed at Yoongi as he sought out Jungkook.

“Yeah, so’s Jin,” Jungkook commented without looking up from the book.

“Hoseok, stop playing around and help us fix this.” Jin stamped his talons on the coffee table. “And bring that fool with you.” 

Hoseok looked wearily at Yoongi.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m not going to bite.” Yoongi cocked his head. “Much.”

Hoseok glared at Yoongi, but slowly lowered himself to the ground and offered Yoongi his hand. Yoongi hopped on happily, whistling as Hoseok lowered him to the table.

Jin shouldered him. “I don’t know what you’re so happy about.”

“What’s not to be happy about?” 

“You do realise birds don’t sleep as often as humans, right hyung?” Jungkook finally looked up from the book with a smile.

“What?” Yoongi froze.

“Yeah, and their life span is shorter,” Jin chipped in.

Yoongi stopped closer to Jungkook. “Turn me back. I can’t live like this.”

“Finally!” Jin groaned.

“Are you all quite finished?” Jungkook laughed. “I think I found one.”

“I am so lost right now,” Hoseok whined, looking between them all in absolute bafflement. 

“What part of Yoongi read from a damn cursed book and turned us into bloody birds do you not understand?” Jin huffed.

“All of it.” Hoseok sat down heavily on the sofa. 

“You really thought Einstein here was going to help? Why didn’t you grab Namjoon?” Yoongi laughed. 

“Namjoon went out to meet up with Taehyung and Jimin. Trust me, hyung. He wouldn’t have been my first choice either.” Jungkook smiled.

“Hey! I can be useful!” Hoseok protested, grabbing the book from the table and standing. “Let’s see. What about this one here?”

“No!” Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jin all yelled. Jungkook attempted to grab the book from Hoseok, but it was too late. He had already finished reading the sentence.

For a moment nothing happened.

“What a load of-” Hoseok started but stopped when he realised that he was no longer standing on the floor. “Uh-oh.”

Jungkook grabbed the book from Hoseok. “That’s why we weren’t reading from the book.” He tapped Hoseok’ head with the book before sitting back down. “Right, let’s try this again.”

Ten spells, a broken vase, an exploded lightbulb, and a very confusing body swap later, Jungkook finally found the right spell. 

A bright light filled the apartment, blinding them all. Once their vision had returned, Yoongi and Jin were back in the right bodies and Hoseok was back on the ground. 

The four men collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the complete disaster zone the living room had become. 

“All in favour of burning that blasted book, say aye.” Jin said.

“Aye.” The other three agreed in unison.

“What happened here?” Taehyung stood in the open front door and stared around the living room with his mouth wide open.

“You don’t even want to know, Tae.” Jungkook shook his head. 

Taehyung slowly approached them. “Seriously, you look like you just went to war?”

“Sure feels like it too,” Yoongi groaned as he stretched his neck.

Taehyung picked up the book from the coffee table, idly flicking it open. “I wonder what this says?” He mused.

Hoseok jumped to his feet and slapped the book to the floor. “No!” He pointed his finger in Taehyung’s face. “We are not going through that again.”

Taehyung laughed. “You read it out loud, didn’t you?” He picked the book up, shaking his head. “Rooky mistake.” He walked back to his room, continuing to chuckle to himself.

“I don’t believe it.” Jin gasped. “The git knew.”

“What other magical stuff is he hiding in there?” Yoongi mused.

“I swear, if you turn yourself into something else, I am not helping.” Hoseok threw up his hands.

While the four boys continued to bicker in the living room, Taehyung closed the door to his bedroom and walked over to his bookshelf. He skimmed over the titles of the books before finally settling on a brown leather-bound book, not unlike the one he held in his hand.

He opened the page and smiled. “Just what I thought.” He closed the book and replaced it on the shelf, placing beside it the one he had acquired that day. 

He knew it had sounded familiar when Mr Choi had described the book and now, he knew why. It was, in fact, one of the books his granny had transcribed. He laughed as he imagined the sort of trouble his friends had got themselves into. 

[aion-rsa]

Will an “Aggressively Anti-Snyder” Warner Stop the SnyderVerse?

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Say what you will about Zack Snyder’s Justice League, but the eponymous director’s streaming superhero redux managed to branch the DC Extended Universe movies off into its own tangential timeline, which has since been dubbed the “SnyderVerse” by the fandom that now passionately hashtags for its restoration in the studio’s main continuity. While recent revelations about Snyder’s rough relationship with Warner make said restoration unlikely, the director doesn’t entirely shut the door on such a notion.

We know that Snyder, once the driving creative force behind Warner’s DCEU, was already the odd man out with the studio by the time a personal tragedy incited him to relinquish the director’s chair of 2017 megamovie Justice League to the controversial tenure of Joss Whedon, but a recent comment from the director has stamped the idea with a powerful punctuation. While Snyder’s focus right now may be this month’s release of his new feature, Netflix-bound horror film Army of the Dead, one promotional interview in particular, with Jake Hamilton, saw him field the inevitable SnyderVerse question with an answer that’s rather inauspicious for its advocates.

“Warner Bros. has been aggressively anti-Snyder, if you will,” reveals Snyder. “Clearly, they’re not interested in my take. But I would also say that they certainly weren’t interested in—I would have said originally—in my take on Justice League. They certainly made decisions about that. I love the characters and I love the worlds and I think it’s an amazing place to make a movie and it’s glorious IP, so there’s that.”

Indeed, Snyder’s status as persona non grata with Warner was bluntly revealed, rendering the mere existence of Zack Snyder’s Justice League even more of an industry anomaly. The film, a four-hour tour-de-Snyder streaming offering that hit HBO Max back on March 18, was the culmination of nearly four years of persistent tagging of #ReleaseTheSnyderCut by fans of Snyder’s darker DCEU vision to press Warner to release the director’s pure vision of the film to contrast with the trimmed-down Whedon-directed theatrical release. Ultimately, proponents hailed the once-mythical manifestation of the Snyder Cut as a triumph—opacity of its streaming metrics notwithstanding—and their efforts have switched to a new hashtag campaign, #RestoreTheSnyderVerse, since it was revealed that Whedon’s film, not Snyder’s, was still considered Warner’s canonical version. It’s a development that obviously didn’t sit well with Snyder’s vocal fandom, which has become empowered by its achievement of essentially having willed the Snyder Cut into existence.

“I don’t know what could be done as you go forward other than, I think the fan movement is so strong, and the fan community is so—the intention is so pure, and I really have huge respect for it,” Snyder muses on the significantly narrowed chances of his return to the DCEU. “I would hope that cooler heads would prevail with them and that they would see that there’s this massive fandom that wants more of them, but who knows what they’ll do.”

Read more

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Snyder does seem to offer his fans small silver lining for some kind of reconciliation of the SnyderVerse. However, it’s important to remember that his fallout with Warner was the culmination of an initially auspicious working relationship that saw him tapped as the primary creative fulcrum for efforts to concoct a lucrative, Marvel Cinematic Universe-like franchise of shared-continuity DC Comic movies beginning with his directorial tenure on 2013’s Henry Cavill-starring Superman reboot, Man of Steel. While that film’s worldwide gross of $668 million worldwide wasn’t especially impressive against its $225 million budget when all expenses were taken into account, the studio still stuck to Snyder’s plans. Indeed, Snyder was going bring Batman into the fray, played by a big star in Ben Affleck, for a crossover-setting quasi-sequel that would become 2016’s Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. However, that film’s $873.6 million worldwide take wasn’t a significant improvement to its Batman-less predecessor against an upped $250 million budget.

Consequently, the backs of studio suits had effectively turned by the time Snyder got to work on follow-up Justice League. Warner’s once-accommodating approach was significantly altered, resulting in the tightening of Snyder’s creative leash, since the studio had attributed the poor performances of the previous films to the director’s bleak, iconography-imbued approach. Thusly, since Warner wanted to protect the increasingly-expanding budget it had invested, production of the ensemble-driven third film became a battle between Snyder’s movie moroseness and the studio attempted to lighten his tone by injecting comic relief moments to make it into a popcorn-friendly crowd-pleaser. Therefore, the studio habitually nixed many of the ambitious, plot-diverging concepts that would eventually surface in the Snyder Cut. Deepening the divide, DC Entertainment creative chief Geoff Johns and Warner Bros. co-production head Jon Berg were deployed to “babysit” Snyder; a dynamic that became irreparably damaged upon the death of his daughter, Autumn.

Of course, even on the back of team member Wonder Woman’s solo film success earlier that year, Whedon’s 2017 Justice League movie fatalistically flopped, having grossed $657 million worldwide, failing to make a lofty $750 million break-even mark. While Warner would likely have preferred to leave that film in the past, especially since they’d found success and acclaim in the solo movie arena with Wonder Woman and, a year later, with Aquaman, the eventual manifestation of Zack Snyder’s Justice League came about due to substantial support—notably from the film’s stars—and possibly a “in for a penny, in for a pound” mentality to salvage the $300 million-budgeted box office boondoggle in some manner. While said cinematic salvaging would cost Warner an additional $70 million to complete its visuals, the Snyder Cut certainly got people talking.   

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Consequently, one might be left to wonder if Warner—perhaps after a few more years passes in the rear-view mirror—eventually returns to the mentality that, having already invested an insane amount of money in the SnyderVerse films, that there might be something salvageable. After all, Snyder recently revealed his plan for the never-realized proper Man of Steel sequel to bring city-bottling cyborg Brainiac to the big screen for the first time. Considering how Warner’s plans for its DC live-action films and television shows (e.g. HBO Max’s Green Lantern) are broad but rudderless—especially on what’s considered canon—there remains an ever so slight chance that someone at Warner might just revisit the SnyderVerse. For now, though, such a notion is dead on arrival.

The post Will an “Aggressively Anti-Snyder” Warner Stop the SnyderVerse? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[senjuushi]

Hey, can you give me a introduction on the characters personalities? I really want to ask some stuff, but don't know the characters enouth. It doens't need to be long, just a small introduction! (:

OwO Absolutely!!! I’ve explained the characters in my writing Discord before, so I’ll just copypaste what I wrote there. The explanations are pretty long, but they’re detailed, so I like ‘em~

Long post below!

This is F. He's a flamboyant, eccentric sadomasochist, and deviant with a princess-type personality, who kind of never quits saying horrible, horrible things. He's very girly and over-the-top, and expresses a distinct crush on one of the other guns, who he refers to as "Onii-sama". 

He has MAJOR masochistic tendencies, like licking the barrel of his gun while it's still hot, but he shows sadistic tendencies too, such as treating his lowest-ranking soldiers horribly. It's very likely that these behaviors have been learned from others, though. One thing that I think is of note is that, despite his extremely sexual behavior and tendencies, he's not showing any more skin than his upper neck and a little bit of his wrists. 

He's an attention-seeker who struggles to stand out in the shadow of a remarkable older brother, and it's implied that he's pretty desperate to be loved. He values his appearance a lot, going out of his way to look good and be presentable, such as through doing his nails and wearing perfume. 

I think he's a very needy person who just wants people to look at him and care about him in any way, so he goes out of his way to stand out. There are a lot of implications that he's been through some pretty awful stuff, considering that his sadism and masochism are most likely learned.

. . . 

This is Belga. He's a loudmouthed idiot with a violent streak and a love of shooting everything in sight. Based on his face and calculated height, he's probably only like 13-15 physically, 16 at max. 

He's very childish and immature, is either ridiculously ignorant or pretty darn stupid, and has a horrifically foul mouth on him. He was described to me as a "laughing maniac". That said, he's got a major soft side, and cries easily at things like sad stories and his pet fish dying. The fish themselves are most likely a measure to control him by, with letting him gain an attachment just to threaten him with them. 

He's very manipulable and gullible, and gets called "birdbrain" by 89, a gun who shares the same superior as him. Overall, he's a childish moron who can probably only barely take care of himself.

. . . 

This is Mikhael. He's... kind of a mess. Outwardly, he seems like a calm, collected character who lives only for his music and his passions. When looked at closer, however, there are some very bad signs. 

First of all, he's blind. His eyes are bandaged over, which... does not imply good things. He also has what's almost definitely a brace on his leg, suggesting that he's kind of broken. Also worth noting is that in the art above, his gun is pointing at his head. 

Mikhael has a fixation on "beauty in destruction" which to me implies that he's trying very hard to cover for how broken he is. He does nothing but play his piano when taken to battle, basically leaving himself open to getting shot. I see him as an older, broken-down gun who's acutely aware of how horrible his situation is, as well as being passively suicidal. He won't do anything to kill himself, but if something happened, he certainly wouldn't complain. 

I think he's very sad, finding joy only in his music, and taking every chance to drown himself in it. Because of his physical flaws, I doubt the WE treats him very well. He's broken enough that he could be gotten rid of at any time, so he's struggling to make himself seem useful and good through his obsession with beauty in ruined things.

. . . 

This is Ninety. He's the "holy shit this is fucked up" one. Ninety is literally referred to as the WE's dog... and he acts like it. 

He's the youngest of the guns in terms of summoning order and has a mindset somewhere between a child and an animal. He can't speak, most likely trauma mute and connected to something like conversion disorder, is only barely literate, and communicates with a signboard. Do note that this boy is not wearing pants. 

He's sort of feral, going so far as to bite the soldiers under him when he doesn't get fed enough (they're probably starving him). He's known to be a "panic shooter", implying a nervous personality. Also worrying is that he has another mask under his gas mask. A lot of fans theorize that he has a slit mouth. 

All of that said, though, Ninety is surprisingly mature and probably a lot more intelligent than he acts. He comforts Belga when his fish die, and honestly, I think he's just acting the part of a stupid dog because it's been drilled into him enough. There's intelligence in there, he's just not allowed to show it. Also, he's tiny. My height calculations put him at somewhere in the 4' range.

. . . 

This is Ghost. His gun is an experimental weapon that was never actually released, and he's got issues because of that. He's a person with no presence who always goes ignored by those around him. His bullets are ridiculously expensive to produce, and thus, the only person who's ever given him a chance is Ashley, to whom he's ridiculous levels of grateful and loyal. 

He's got major abandonment issues and considers himself to be a difficult to deal with reject. He's very passive, cynical, and pessimistic. He has a very childish side, "cursing" people who upset or ignore him, and "blessing" the rare few who give him the time of day. He latches onto anyone who treats him kindly with an unrivaled sense of desperation. It's implied that he might be rather sickly, and he seems to have a poor physical presence. 

He feels like he's a failure who no one should waste their time on, and struggles a lot with believing that anyone could ever find him worth the effort to use or keep. He's always teetering on the fear of being abandoned and forgotten.

. . . 

This is 89. He's a dead-inside gamer otaku who's catchphrase is "Are you serious?" He's something of the straight man (in the sense of the comedy term) of the lot of them and is definitely the most "normal". 

On that subject, he wants to be normal very, very badly but doesn’t have a shadow of a chance thanks to his status as nothing but a gun and a weapon of the WE, so he forces himself to look down on everyone who does get a normal life. He’s so depressed and done with life that all he does is lock himself up in his room and play whatever violent fighting games he’s allowed as an escape from the misery that is his life. He's got a ridiculously obvious crush on Mikhael, and also very obviously just wants someone to love him. Belga calls him "virgin", and in return gets referred to as "birdbrain". 

89 is just tired and done and exhausted with life, and honestly, he probably doesn't get much attention. He slacks off from missions when he can (which he definitely gets in trouble for), and even his favorite foods are cheap things that sound like they've been shoved onto him out of sheer neglect. He's a little bit tsundere and a total softie inside. He's also my favorite of all of them.

. . . 

This is Eins. He's the powerhouse of the modern guns, and definitely the strongest person there. He's the highest-ranking of all of them, and his battle style/gun type is a sniper. 

He's a serious person who takes his job equally seriously and always produces exceptional results. He acts rather normal, and could probably pass for human if he tried. That said, he's also got major empathy issues, showing very little remorse for hurting people. He takes orders way too far to make sure he's gone far enough, in the sense that he'd kill 100 people if ordered to kill 1. He has his soft side, though, down to gardening, impressive cooking skills when it comes to the others, and considering many of the other moderns to be his "family". F has a crush on him, which he's totally oblivious to. 

Fal is his loyal right-hand man, and Ghost is ridiculously fond of him. He's merciless when it comes down to it, but probably just sees what he does as doing his job and not getting hurt. He definitely sees himself as nothing but a weapon and a tool.

. . . 

This is Fal. He's F's older brother, and most likely the reason why F is Like That. Fal is an insanely capable, efficient, skilled person– one who comes off as perfect in every way. His gun, the FN FAL, is known as "the right arm of the free world" and has been one of the most used firearms in history. 

Fal himself is a calm, collected sort who always seems poised. He's Eins's assistant and has a lot of responsibility, which he handles extremely well. He's polite, subservient, and soft-spoken, despite being very close to Eins in power and skill. He's well-spoken, eloquent, loyal, and basically embodies the perfect assistant. He's also very intelligent, and expresses a particular fondness for torture. He has a unique power in that he's able to manifest prehensile, thorned vines, which sets him apart from the others in strength and skill. 

He's basically the ideal modern gun, which gives F and everyone else a LOT to live up to. He does seem like a very stressed, worn-down person, though, and likely is almost crushed under the pressure of the expectations placed on him.

. . . 

This is Kirsch. He's a sadistic spoiled brat who's almost definitely been sexually abused. He's downright desperate for attention from Ashley, resenting Mauser (Ashley's personal weapon) viciously for taking that attention away. Creepily enough, he refers to Ashley as "Papa". 

He's sort of obsessed with being cute and attractive, emphasizing his charm and trying to play up how lovable he is. That said, he behaves like a spoiled child, down to throwing tantrums when he's angry. Kirsch is also a major sadist (a behavior which is definitely learned), and loves torturing people for the sheer fun of it. He's described as "sick in the head" by one of his superiors. Even so, he tries to paint himself as a harmless victim who can do no wrong, kissing up to and demanding attention from anyone he looks fondly upon. 

He's ridiculously immature, insanely clingy, and probably also has major abandonment issues. He acts like a love-starved child who acts out in order to get attention. There are also a few implications that he's been sexually abused, including his aggressively "touchy" behavior, personal-space invading sadism, attitude towards his superiors, and revealing outfit (short shorts and garter on his leg).

. . . 

This is Hokusai. He's an animated, wild-natured person with a major childish streak. He uses the pronoun "Boku-chan", which sounds straight out of the mouth of a kindergartener. 

He's something of a mad scientist who's associated with the science sector of the WE, and has honestly probably been the brunt of more than a few experiments. He has a massive fixation on the color blue that goes all the way to an obsession, and he's so dedicated to this that he keeps trying to dye his human self blue... which also keeps killing him. He's killed himself like this a bunch of times, but fortunately, Ashley can keep bringing him back somehow. He has a massive aversion to the color red too, straight to the point where he loses it if he sees his own blood. 

He has a number of visible scars (rare for anime art), including one across his throat and one on his wrist, implying that he's been through some shit. His behavior also says to me that he might have some form of brain damage, probably of the nature that impacts his decision making and sense of consequences. He's very reckless and has little regard for his own life. Despite this, he's also a cheerful, sunny person who never really seems to be down.

. . . 

This is Love1. He's... a mess. His gun is majorly defective, and known irl as one of the worst and most useless firearms in history. Reflecting this, L1's body is kind of a mess. His gun jams constantly, which gives him nosebleeds, he's implied to be physically fucked up in general, and in the game, his bigger attacks did damage to him too. 

Personality-wise, he acts like an utter idiot. He's loud and goofy, with a lot of presence and seemingly no dignity. He's cheerful, explosive, and trigger-happy, acting like he doesn't have a care in the world. However, his real personality is very different. L1 is a massively intelligent and strategic individual. While Fal specializes in physical torture, L1 is the psychological torture master. He knows how to absolutely break people. He has a little brother, Like2, and the two of them are both in the "defective" boat. L1 loves L2 dearly, no matter how rude the other is to him, and gushes over his "cute baby brother" constantly. 

On the dark note, L1's life is kind of hanging by a thread. He's worthless enough that he could be gotten rid of at any time, and with the whole world seeing him as a failure, he's definitely got some major issues. He could be replaced at any time, and he's definitely living in fear of when that day will come. Since his physical body is shot, it's also likely that he's constantly in a lot of pain. No one is really very nice to him either.

. . . 

This is Like2. He's an effeminate, bratty tsundere who wants to be spoiled and loved. He's in the same boat as L1 in that his gun is sort of useless, but he's still quite a bit better off. He definitely shares the same worries about being replaced, but instead of covering it up with a smile, he fixates on making himself pretty and strong. 

He's a bodybuilder who focuses a lot on strength training, and is surprisingly tough for his looks. He loves fine things and getting attention and spoiling, and is pretty much desperate for people to like him. Because of his status as a rejected, mocked weapon, he's frantic to make himself useful and avoid being disposed of. He values his personal security massively, can't stand any form of discomfort, and is willing to turn traitor as soon as his safety is on the line. He's an aggressive, abrasive tsundere who constantly berates his brother, calling him "worthless" and "soon to be replaced". 

That said, he loves L1 dearly underneath it all, and winds up as something of his brother's caretaker. He's a fragile person who's desperate to be cared for an accepted, no matter what he has to do to get it.

. . .

Last is Mauser. He's Ashley's personal assistant and weapon, and is honestly a thousand levels of worrying. Mauser is the first gun Ashley summoned, and despite his size and young appearance, his gun is the oldest model as well, being made in 1896. He teeters right on the verge of modern and antique. 

He's an obedient doll to Ashley who seems to lack any form of personality or will of his own. He's empty and emotionless, only capable of expressing his loyalty to his Master. This lack of personality could be attributed to being a faulty summon, but more likely, Ashley has broken him of anything that made him a person. He's blindly devoted, endlessly loyal, and doesn't really have anything to live for beyond Ashley. His character is worrying because something must have left him so broken, and the implications with what Ashley could have done to mess him up so badly aren't pretty. 

His personality is rather flat, but his interesting side comes in what made him the way he is. He'd have nothing to live for without Ashley.