#scheduled because i think i'm clever

[onlyangel4]

red, white and ruin. part four. cody rhodes.

dark!cody rhodes x make up artist!reader.

synopsis: on the surface, cody is everything clean-cut. honour, legacy, gold. but you saw the mask slip once, and now you can’t unsee it. he wants you because you see him, the ambition, the darkness, the violence under the white light. and when he decides you’re going to be his, he wraps you in red, white, and ruin.

warnings: 18+. cursing. smut. p in v. one mention of breeding kink. fingering.

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you felt him before you saw him.

the dressing room was quiet, stripped of the usual buzz, the only sound the low whir of the overhead fan stirring the heavy air. you were hunched over your kit, sorting lip liners by shade, mind already wandering, when the door clicked shut behind you.

you didn’t need to turn around.

you knew it was him.

the weight of his gaze settled against your spine like a hand, familiar and scorching. you held your ground, fingers tightening around a tube of lipstick you didn’t realize you were still holding.

"you ran out on me this morning.”

his voice was low. even. almost gentle.

you forced a breath through your nose, setting the lipstick down with deliberate care. "i had work."

a pause. a beat of silence heavy enough to shift the atmosphere.

"don’t lie to me."

not a demand. not anger.

a simple, devastating fact.

you turned then, slowly, lifting your chin.

cody stood a few feet away, hands loose at his sides, like he wasn’t already coiled tight enough to snap. his hair was still slightly damp, curls clinging to his forehead. his boots were scuffed from the ring. he looked, unmade. undone.

because of you.

you swallowed hard. "i’m not lying."

he just looked at you.

really looked at you.

the kind of look that peeled you open, layer by layer, until there was nothing left to hide behind.

you tried to find something clever to say, something to stitch up the widening crack between you, but he was already crossing the room. slow. certain.

you backed up without thinking, bumping against the counter behind you.

he didn’t cage you in. he didn’t touch you. he just stood close enough that the heat of him blurred the line between your body and his.

"i don’t want to scare you", he said, so softly it almost didn’t sound like him. "but i’m not gonna pretend."

your breath hitched.

"what are you pretending?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"that i don’t think about you all the time."

"that i'm not planning my life around your schedule."

"that i don’t wake up already reaching for you."

each confession dropped like stones into the space between you, heavy enough to bruise.

you tried to hold yourself together, to draw the line you both kept stepping over, but then his hand came up. slow. reverent.

he brushed his fingers along your jaw, featherlight, like he was afraid you might shatter if he pushed too hard.

you let him.

you leaned into it.

because somewhere deep inside you, you knew the truth

no one had ever wanted you like this before.

no one ever would again.

his thumb dragged over the corner of your mouth, lingering.

"you don’t have to be scared of me", he murmured.

but you were.

not because you thought he’d hurt you.

because you knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t.

and somehow, that terrified you more.

he dropped his forehead to yours, breath washing over your lips, heartbeat hammering through the small, fragile distance left between you.

"stay", he whispered.

not an order.

a plea.

you closed your eyes.

you could feel the gravity of him pulling you under, the inevitability of it.

you could still say no.

you could still save yourself.

instead, you nodded.

and when his arms slid around you, pulling you into his chest, you didn’t resist.

you melted.

you let him gather you up like something precious, something breakable, something he would fight the whole world to protect.

you let him hold you there, breathing you in like you were oxygen, like you were necessary.

and when he pressed his mouth to your temple, lingering, silent, worshipful.

you realised there was no turning back.

you didn’t want soft because you were weak.

you wanted it because no one had ever meant it before.

and cody?

cody meant it.

every dangerous, terrifying, beautiful word.

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once cody reluctantly let go of you, you moved to sit on the the edge of the couch in the centre of his dressing room, your hands slack in your lap, feeling the aftershocks of what you’d just agreed to.

the air between you and cody was heavy, weighted, but not fully uncomfortable. just tense.

then he moved.

slowly, like you were something fragile, something half-wild that might bolt if he came too fast.

he knelt down in front of you, his knees brushing the tops of your boots, and placed his hands palm-up on either side of your legs. not sexual. not demanding.

waiting.

your breath hitched. the invitation was obvious. come closer. let me.

you hesitated, not because you didn’t want to, but because some small, stubborn piece of you still believed you could keep a distance. that agreeing to stay didn’t mean giving in.

but he didn’t push. he just knelt there, head tilted up, his mouth soft, his gaze unbearably gentle.

it was you who leaned forward first. you who let your hands fall into his.

his fingers curled around yours like closing a door.

cody exhaled, a sound of pure relief and brought your hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss into each palm.

not rushed. not desperate.

reverent.

"you’re tired" he said, his voice low, almost coaxing. "let me take care of you."

you should have said no. you should have said something sharp, something to remind him this wasn’t normal, that he was treading too close to a line you barely understood.

instead, you nodded.

he smiled, a small, private thing and shifted closer, settling between your knees.

one by one, he unlaced your boots, easing them off your feet. his touch was so careful it made your chest ache.

then he massaged your feet, slow, methodical, finding every knot of tension and smoothing it away with his thumbs.

you couldn't remember the last time someone touched you like that, not to get something from you, not to lead you somewhere, but just to be there.

it disarmed you more effectively than any threat could have.

when he finished, he didn’t speak.

he just rested his forehead lightly against your knee, breathing you in, anchoring himself to you like you were a lifeline.

your fingers twitched in your lap, unsure of what to do.

cody looked up at you then, his eyes so open it hurt to meet them. "you don’t have to do anything," he murmured. "just stay."

stay.

the word curled around your ribs like smoke, sinking deeper than it should have.

you nodded again.

and just like that, he smiled. not triumphant, not possessive.

grateful.

as if you had just saved his life.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the next friday, smackdown blurred past you in a haze of travel and nerves.

you did your job. you smiled when you had to. Yyu kept your head down.

cody didn’t bother you backstage.

he didn’t even look your way when you passed him in the corridors, belt slung casually over his shoulder, talking business with a road agent like you didn’t exist.

you should have been relieved.

instead, you carried a tight, anxious weight in your chest all night, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

it didn’t fall until hours later, when you were alone in your hotel room, hair damp from the shower, flipping absently through tv channels you weren't really watching.

a knock came at the door.

your stomach dropped.

you didn't have to ask who it was. you knew.

still, you moved toward the door like you had a choice, like you could still pretend to yourself you were making decisions.

when you opened it, cody stood there, dressed down in dark jeans and a soft grey hoodie, casual enough to pass for normal.

except his arms were full.

gifts, you realized, your throat tightening. boxes, bags, a single white envelope tucked between his fingers.

he smiled, small and hesitant, like he was nervous.

"hey", he said. "can i come in?"

you didn't answer right away.

your silence stretched between you like a pulled thread, thin and dangerous.

cody waited, patient.

in the end, you stepped back.

he came inside without hesitation, brushing past you, leaving the scent of clean laundry and faint cologne in the air.

he placed the gifts carefully on the bed, as if arranging some kind of shrine, before turning back to face you.

"i know it’s a little much", he said lightly, "but i saw some things this week, and well. you were on my mind."

you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in your loose pyjama shorts and old band t-shirt.

"you didn’t have to", you said, voice small.

"i wanted to", he corrected, smiling like you’d said something funny.

like there had never been a world where he wouldn't have.

he picked up the first box, small, heavy and held it out to you.

inside was a bracelet, thin and gold, your initials and his engraved so finely you almost missed it.

you stared at it.

you didn't reach for it.

cody’s smile didn’t falter.

"i thought it would be nice", he said softly. "something to remind you you’re not alone out here."

he set it on the dresser when you didn’t move.

next came a designer coat, thick, soft, absurdly expensive.

he unfolded it carefully, showing it to you like a magician revealing a secret.

"i saw you eyeing it last week when we were at the mall", he said. "i remembered."

you couldn’t even remember him being near you at the mall.

but apparently, he had been watching.

the last gift was the most unsettling.

a new camera, the exact model you’d mentioned once, months ago, in passing, during some offhand conversation about hobbies you barely had time for.

you hadn't even thought he'd been listening.

but he had.

he'd listened.

and he had remembered.

cody set the camera down with the same care he might have used handling something fragile, something alive.

then he straightened up, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans, studying you.

"i’m not trying to scare you", he said. "i just i want you to have nice things. you deserve that."

you swallowed hard.

you wanted to tell him it was too much.

you wanted to tell him to take it all back.

but some part of you, the part that remembered his hands cradling yours, the part that remembered the careful way he knelt, didn't want to hurt him.

didn’t want to provoke him.

so you nodded, mute, and managed a shaky, "thank you."

cody's face lit up like you'd handed him the world.

he closed the space between you in three steps, pulling you into a gentle, loose hug.

you didn’t resist.

"i’ll always take care of you," he murmured into your hair. "always."

you stood frozen in his arms, heart hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it.

and somewhere deep inside, you realised

you were already his.

he hadn’t needed to ask.

his arms stayed around you longer than necessary, tightening just slightly.

not enough to hurt.

enough to remind you he was bigger, stronger, that you were tucked neatly against him with nowhere else to go.

"you’re so sweet", he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"so good for me."

you shivered, not sure if it was fear or something else.

your hands hovered uselessly at his sides, unsure whether to push him away or hold on.

cody pulled back just enough to look at you.

his eyes flicked over your face, searching, serious and then, so softly you barely felt it, he kissed you.

it was almost chaste at first.

just a press of his mouth to yours, reverent, careful.

You froze, startled by the tenderness of it.

he deepened the kiss slow, sure, coaxing you open with soft insistent brushes of his lips, the warm tip of his tongue teasing at the seam of your mouth until you let him in.

you gasped against him, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

the kiss turned hotter, messier.

cody's hands slid down your back, finding the curve of your hips and pulling you against him, grinding slow enough that you couldn’t pretend not to feel how hard he was already.

"god, you’re perfect", he rasped against your mouth.

"i think about you all the fucking time."

one of his hands slipped under your shirt, rough palm dragging up your stomach.

you made a small, helpless noise in your throat, and that seemed to undo him.

he kissed you harder, devouring now, teeth scraping your bottom lip just shy of a bite.

"you don't know what you do to me", he muttered, voice shaking with restraint. "you have no idea."

his fingers found your breast, kneading softly at first, then rougher when you arched into his touch despite yourself.

you found yourself clinging to him, needy, hungry for the attention he poured into you like it was infinite.

he broke the kiss only long enough to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him.

his eyes drank you in, the thin cotton of your pyjama shorts, the way your nipples peaked in the cool air.

"so fucking beautiful", he said hoarsely, like it physically hurt him.

before you could say anything, he kissed you again, hands roaming freely now, over your sides, your back, your ass, pulling soft little gasps and whimpers from you that only seemed to feed whatever dark thing was uncoiling in him.

he nudged you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed.

you toppled onto it, and cody followed, covering your body with his, caging you in.

for a long moment, he just looked down at you, his breath heavy, his pupils blown wide with lust and something more dangerous, more desperate.

"you’re mine now", he whispered.

"so fucking mine."

you barely had time to catch your breath before cody was pulling your shorts down, rough and impatient, letting them pool at your ankles.

"you’re not leaving this room", he said under his breath, voice wrecked and low.

"not until you understand you’re mine."

you opened your mouth to argue, maybe, but the words turned into a sharp gasp when he slipped two fingers inside your panties, finding how wet you already were.

"fuck", he groaned.

"look at you. so ready for me. knew you would be."

he shoved the thin fabric aside and slid a thick finger inside you, just one at first, working you open slow, deep, relentless.

your hips bucked against his hand, helpless.

"that’s it", he coaxed. "take it. take what i give you."

you whimpered, grabbing at his hoodie, desperate for something to hold onto.

"need you", you gasped.

he grinned, dark, triumphant.

"i know, sweetheart. i know. gonna give it to you."

he yanked his hoodie off with one hand, muscles flexing in the low, warm light, and then he stripped the rest of his clothes off, no ceremony, no teasing. just pure need.

your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

big, broad, flushed and already so hard it looked painful.

cody crawled back over you, grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"you stay right there", he murmured, voice like velvet dragged over gravel.

"let me take care of you."

with his free hand, he peeled your panties down your thighs slowly, exposing you inch by inch like he was unwrapping something precious.

when he finally looked down at you, fully naked and spread out under him, something almost snarled behind his eyes.

he lined himself up against you, dragging the thick head of his cock through your slick folds, smearing himself in you but not pushing in yet.

"you’re gonna take all of me", he whispered, forehead pressing to yours.

"you’re gonna let me ruin you."

you moaned, high and desperate, trying to rock your hips up.

he didn’t let you.

he held you down, the weight of his body and his strength overwhelming.

"say it", he rasped.

"tell me you’re mine."

you trembled, the need coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

"i’m yours", you whispered.

he still didn’t move.

"louder."

"i’m yours", you said again, voice cracking this time.

only then did he push inside, slow, brutal inches that stretched and filled you until you could barely breathe.

your fingers twisted uselessly in the sheets as he bottomed out with a ragged groan.

"fuck, baby", he panted, shaking with the effort not to lose control.

"you feel like heaven."

he gave you a moment to adjust, just long enough for your body to stop fighting the overwhelming fullness and then he pulled out almost all the way and thrust back in, hard enough to make the bed creak.

you cried out, and he swallowed the sound with a brutal kiss.

"you take it so good", he praised against your mouth.

"my good girl."

the rhythm he set was merciless, deep, punishing strokes that left you gasping, clawing at his back.

every thrust was a claim.

every filthy word was a brand.

"who’s fucking you like this?"

"you’re gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?"

"no one else gets to see you like this. no one."

You could barely answer, too far gone, pleasure building to a sharp, unbearable peak.

"that’s it, baby", he growled when he felt you start to tighten around him.

"come for me. come all over my cock."

you shattered with a cry, clenching around him so hard it dragged a broken moan from his throat.

he fucked you through it, chasing his own release now, messy and desperate.

"fuck", he groaned, hips stuttering. "gonna fill you up. gonna fucking breed you."

the words should have terrified you.

instead, they sent another shuddering wave of pleasure crashing through you.

cody buried himself as deep as he could and came with a low, guttural sound, spilling inside of you.

for a long moment, neither of you moved.

you just clung to each other, bodies slick with sweat and something darker, something binding.

he finally lifted his head to look at you, hair messy, face flushed, eyes wild and still hungry.

he kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your mouth, softer now but no less possessive.

"you’re mine", he whispered again.

"and i’m never letting you go."

you laid there, boneless and wrecked, your body trembling in the aftershocks.

cody didn't move.

he stayed buried inside you, caging you against the mattress, breathing hard against the side of your neck like he was afraid if he pulled out, you'd disappear.

slowly, you felt his hands move, not to leave, but to gather you closer.

his palm slid up your spine, possessive and heavy, pressing you tighter to his chest.

"mine", he whispered again, hoarse and almost reverent.

you shivered.

he shifted his hips just enough to make you gasp, still too sensitive, but he soothed you instantly with a kiss to your temple.

"i mean it", he said, voice low and dangerous now.

"you don’t fucking go anywhere."

you nodded, too wrung out to argue.

he pulled out finally, and you whimpered at the loss.

cody caught it, he caught everything and gave a dark little smile like he liked it.

like he liked knowing you felt empty without him.

he disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, then returned with a warm, damp cloth and cleaned you up, gentle, careful, but the whole time his eyes never left yours.

as if daring you to try and run.

you didn't.

you let him touch you, care for you, mark you without a word.

and when he was done, he crawled back into bed and dragged you into his arms again, tucking your head under his chin like you belonged there.

you stayed like that, hearts pounding against each other, until your eyelids started to slip shut.

cody brushed your hair back and whispered against your hairline.

"you’re gonna be good for me, baby. you’re gonna stay close. let me take care of you."

You nodded sleepily.

somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered that this was too fast, too much.

that you should be scared.

maybe you were.

but you didn’t move.

you belonged to him now.

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you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing violently against the nightstand.

you groaned and tried to roll over, but cody’s arm was an iron bar across your waist, holding you down.

"where you think you're going?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and something darker.

"my phone," you croaked.

he didn’t let go.

instead, he reached out with his free hand, grabbed the phone, and looked at it himself.

you saw his eyes narrow at the screen.

a missed call from lena.

two texts from friends.

nothing crazy, but his grip on you tightened anyway.

"you don't need to talk to them", he said casually, tossing the phone back onto the table without giving it back.

your heart thudded uncomfortably.

"they’re just worried about me", you said carefully.

"worried?" he repeated, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth.

"you're safer with me than anywhere else."

the way he said it made something coil tight in your belly part fear, part something darker you didn’t want to name.

before you could answer, cody rolled you underneath him again, pinning you to the bed effortlessly.

"you’re not going anywhere, sweetheart", he said softly, but there was steel under it.

"you belong to me now. they don’t get to pull you away. no one does."

you stared up at him, your breath coming fast.

he leaned down, kissed you slowly, deeply a claiming more than a kiss until you were gasping against his mouth.

"i’ll give you everything". he whispered.

"i'll give you the world. you just have to be good for me."

you swallowed hard, nodding without thinking.

he smiled.

"good girl."

he kissed you again, longer this time, while his hands started to roam lower.

You knew you should be scared.

you knew you should say something.

but when cody touched you, when he spoke to you like that, the rest of the world melted away.

there was only him.

only his hands, his mouth, his promises.

soft-dangerous.

like sinking into quicksand and not even wanting to fight it.

[flawseer]

Mail Call #3

Answering comments from @void-the-bear @railway-lands @keabirb @ilikebookssomuch @chezgorman @cartoons-everywhere @dragonra305

Please don't hurt me. I have glasses.

Thank you, to all of you. It makes me genuinely happy to know that I'm able to put something into this world that other people can enjoy. I think this is a great setting that is fun to add to.

Doing a Wings of Fire-themed run of this Smaugust challenge has been very interesting and it's good that the result appears to be well-received. It's not always been easy, I'm actually getting quite exhausted having to post content on a strict schedule like this. But it is worth doing if it makes people happy.

Relating to my comment on this post. I probably will do it eventually, along with some other ideas I had that didn't fit in. But it won't happen while Smaugust is still going, as I am already skirting the limits of what I am physically capable of right now.

Ahh... hm... This is the question that has toppled mountains and started wars. You're going to get hit squads sent after me.

Well, there is the big one, of course. Qibli/Winter. They have such wonderful chemistry whenever they are in a scene together (with one pretty upsetting exception). And Qibli is always teasing him about being his destiny and the two of them getting married, so I think there is some attraction there.

Then uh... I used to feel completely ambivalent about this one, but Starflight/Fatespeaker has really grown on me over time. There's a lot of interesting potential there that doesn't really make it into the story. I need to make a long-winded post about Fatespeaker one day.

Blaze/Glacier is another one that could be cute. I think putting a repressed Icewing together with a highly eccentric and rambunctious Sandwing is going to be a winning combination most of the time. Or well, I guess I should say "could have been cute", since Glacier had to die for the plot, in a very wretched and infuriating way too.

There are a couple more that I think have their moments or could be interesting in one way or another. Some of them even contradicting or overlapping each other. Listing all of them would probably be a bit excessive.

Oh yeah, and I think Sunny is ace.

Ah, a question that'll make me put someone else's favorite character at the bottom of a preference list... After the shipping question I'm starting to fear for my life now.

Let me preface this by clarifying that I generally like all of the DoD. There are some characters in this setting that I loathe and wish they would exit the story, and the arc 1 protagonists are nowhere near that. So being ranked low here translates to me saying "Yeah, they're okay, room for improvement", not "wow, they're the WORST!"

Okay whatever, let's get down to it.

#1 - Sunny

That one's easy, I mean, just look at the pinned post on this blog.

Sunny is so wonderful and charming and perfect in every conceivable way, she is one of my six all-time favorite characters. She is the flower that blooms in the bitter desert. A lot of people may perceive her as this demure and innocent character who is always happy and friendly, and oblivious to the suffering around her. Nah, Sunny knows exactly what is going on. She is keenly aware of all the bloodshed, suffering, and toxicity that unfolds in the world around her. When she remains optimistic and forgiving in the face of darkness, that is not her being meek or passive, it's her steadfastly refusing to let that darkness into herself. She is actively embodying the change she wants to see in the world, even when it hurts her or gets her taken advantage of, because that is what she believes in and the future she will create.

That's pretty inspiring. I wish I had that kind of inner strength.

Also, she is not weak. While she's not a powerhouse scrapper like Tsunami or an invincible stack of bricks like Clay, Sunny strikes quickly and without hesitation when her friends are in danger, and can be deviously clever. This is often overlooked, but she is--to my knowledge--the only character to land an attack on Morrowseer that comes close to actually hurting him.

Well... you got me rambling about Sunny. Let's go through the others more briskly.

#2 - Starflight

I like Starflight a lot. Unfortunately the story really doesn't. He is like, the unluckiest character by far. I don't know what he did to deserve the never-ending cavalcade of misfortune that gets shoveled in his direction throughout all three arcs. Like, it never ends. A couple of friends and I came together and we jokingly called our group the "Starflight Protection Foundation", because someone needs to stage an intervention. Like, wrap him in a cozy sweater and buy him hot chocolate or something. Heaven help this poor man.

He's another one of my favorites.

#3 - Glory

Glory is really cool; I vibe with the "unchosen hero spurned by destiny" theme. She goes through her life and is constantly told "No, you don't have a special destiny. You're the fifth wheel. You are worthless and unimportant". Though she struggles with the constant abuse and devaluation, she eventually finds a way to turn it into strength and declare that the only value that matters is the one she gives to herself.

I really wish the story had NOT made her turn out to be a secret princess. "I was born without destiny, so I'm making my own" is a so much more satisfying character trajectory than "Oh, don't worry. You were born special after all, you just didn't know about it".

So yeah, I kind of tend to put that "secret princess" plot twist on the shelf when I think about Glory, and prefer to think that she managed to sway Grandeur with her skill and determination, rather than a random blood link.

#4 - Clay

Clay is very lovable. He is like the emotional bedrock of the group and acts as a stabilizing force that pairs well with all of the other arc 1 protagonists. He pretty much resolves all of his baggage in the first book and becomes content and steady. That is very good for him, but unfortunately this also kind of turns him into just some dude for the following four books.

Which is fine, it is good for the other characters to have someone behind them who loves them and helps them up when they stumble. It just makes it difficult for Clay to shine on his own.

#5 - Tsunami

Okay, so, Tsunami. I actually like her a lot in arc 1. She's bringing an interesting kind of energy to the group that is like, half-supportive and half-detrimental. Very chaotic. She also has to contend with some heavy stuff; everything to do with her father and the complications in her family life. It's very interesting. Lots of places to go with that.

Arc 2 Tsunami though, really grinds my gears. She regresses into this kind of juvenile, immature personality that is just pointlessly abrasive and confrontational. She acts really condescendingly towards Peril-- despite the latter having saved Clay's life AND it being really important to Clay that her staying at JMA works out well. Her borderline sabotaging this effort by making Peril feel unwelcome seems very dismissive towards Clay's feelings. It also doesn't help that she is the most outspoken about her loathing of Nightwing mindreading and prophecies, which drives Moonwatcher further into her emotional shell and makes things more complicated.

Okay, I have to reiterate: I don't dislike Tsunami. I just think her character arc is incomplete. It feels like she is stuck in arrested development while at JMA. She's mostly running around yelling at people, when she really should be thinking about what to do about Queen Coral, and how to get custody of her siblings. Her sister Anemone is carrying emotional scars from how the Queen has kept her leashed like a dog for her entire life, a process that is now happening to Auklet, even to this day. And then there's the 30 something children who have never known parental love for a day in their life and their mother can't remember the names of.

Someone's gotta step in and save these kids. Or like, at least start vaguely thinking about it.

Turtle???

Hmm....

...

Moose!

[ashtheketchum]

● Secret love ●

Hitoshi Shinsou X FEM.Reader

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEM.Reader, protected sex, BDSM, forbidden love, missionary

Summary: You are a thief and Hitoshi is a hero. But instead of hating each other, you both have a secret sexual relationship. For a long time, however, you both only had quickies because you never have time for privacy. On Hitoshi's day off, however, you both change that.

(N/N) = Nickname

Words: 2.1k

____________________

PoV (Y/N):

I was sitting in a dark alley. The sounds of nighttime traffic, barking dogs and talking people echoed through the alley. But I was not part of the outside world. I had lived alone in the dark since I was a child. That was just how it was. Until last month I lived alone, robbing people, killing people and surviving. Until I met the hero Nighthide. At first he wanted to hunt me down and put me in prison. But luck was on my side again and we felt a pleasant tingling sensation when he touched me.

<A month ago>

I ran across the rooftops, hoping to find a way out. Behind me was the hero Nighthide, his stupid bandages making him faster and faster. "Running away is no use, (N/N)!" he called after me, but I ignored his words and jumped over to the next roof. However, I had underestimated Nighthide, because the next moment he kicked my back and we both crashed to the ground. Luckily I was able to turn around so that I fell on my back to the ground.

Nighthide landed on top of me, his arms holding my wrists while his legs pushed down my thighs. "Are you giving up now?" he asked, an amused grin on his lips. "After two months you catch me… you took your time…" I said snippily. But there was also an amused grin on my lips.

And there it was. The pleasant tingling that I felt on my wrists and thighs. My cheeks blushed slightly while Nighthide's eyes darkened. "… clever, Nighthide…" I murmured quietly before carefully pushing him off me. Nighthide just grumbled quietly before looking at me intently. "So? Are you going to put me in prison now?" I asked and tilted my head to the side. Nighthide stood there for a while before shaking his head. "Being under my own observation is better, I think." "For who?" an amused grin formed on my lips. He returned my grin with a wider grin. "You'll see…"

<Present>

While I was waiting for Nighthide, also known as Hitoshi Shinsou, I played with the fabric of my jacket. It was already late, Hitoshi always worked until it was dark. He also slept less and less, which explained his ever-growing dark circles under his eyes. Even though he was a hero and I was a thief, I was very worried about him. "Well, if that isn't my favorite thief…" I heard a sarcastic voice behind me. Immediately I turned around and saw Hitoshi slowly lowering himself down the wall. A gentle but wide grin was on his lips. "And if I'm not positively surprised by my favorite hero," I replied, my grin just as wide.

When Hitoshi's feet touched the ground, I walked over to him and leaned closer to him. He returned my movement and we shared a quick kiss. After that, we smiled gently at each other. "Are we going to your place?" I asked quietly, my fingers playing with his hair. Hitoshi just hummed happily before nodding and kissing my forehead. "Yes… I have the whole night for you…" his words made me blush, but I also grinned widely.

It had been a while since we had sex because of his work schedule. It was very rare that we had a night of peace and quiet from the city. Of course, that also meant that we didn't have sex, or only had a quickie. It was always good, Hitoshi was incredible in bed, but it was never satisfying enough. The fact that he had nothing to do all night today made me jump for joy. "Then let's not waste any time." and with those words we set off across the rooftops to his house.

<Time Skip>

When we arrived at Hitoshi's house, we took off our shoes and I took off my jacket. "I'm just going to take off this costume…" he murmured quietly and walked away. With a mischievous grin, however, I followed him and hugged him from behind. "Why change if we're going to be naked afterwards anyway?" I purred quietly into his ear. He visibly shivered and blushed, but grinned broadly. Then he turned to me, putting his hands on my waist. "So greedy… and we had sex just two days ago." "You call it sex… I call it a quickie because Izuku called you and we had to finish it quickly." I murmured quietly while slowly playing with his belt. With a deft movement, I opened it.

Hitoshi snorted in amusement before he pulled on my top and took it off. "You're so bitchy…", I hummed in amusement at his words before I unbuckled his belt and his pants fell to the floor. Without hesitation, my hands slid under his tight top to pull it up. Hitoshi played with my bra until he took my pants off too. When I was standing in front of him in just my underwear, Hitoshi took off his top and his strange bandages. While the top fell to the floor, he kept his bandages in his hand. "Come on… if we're going to have sex now, let's have real sex…" his words made me moan quietly, but I nodded in agreement and went into his bedroom.

Inside, I turned to him to kiss Hitoshi, but he pushed me into the bed, climbed over me and tied my wrists above my head. He spread my legs wide so that he could lie between them. I could already feel his bulge through his boxer shorts. "So wild, was today a bad day?" I asked amused, which only made him growl quietly. Then he kissed my neck, sucked on my skin and bit my skin. While I lay panting and whimpering under him, Hitoshi gave me love bites and bite marks from my neck to my chest. "You're too cheeky for me…" his words gave me goosebumps and I whimpered loudly.

Hitoshi deftly opened my bra, ripped it away from my skin and then looked at my hard nipples. Again a quiet growl escaped him, but he immediately continued his actions by kissing and sucking on my nipples. I immediately arched my back and moaned loudly. My pelvis moved against his, my panties were now completely wet. Apparently he felt my wetness, because he twitched strongly against my wet pussy when I pressed myself against him again. "Mnh… baby, fuck~…", his voice sent a cold shiver down my spine. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands. It somehow bothered me that my hands were tied and I couldn't touch him, but it also made me tingle with excitement.

While I twisted beneath him, Hitoshi went further and further down until he bit my panties to pulled them down. His eyes darkened, his hands ripped the panties off my legs and he licked his lips. God, he looked so damn hot right now, just the sight of him made my core tingle with delight. "So greedy~… you really need it, you horny slut…" and with these words he gently bit my clitoris. I immediately gasped in shock before moaning loudly. Hitoshi sucked greedily on my clitoris and flicked his tongue against it faster and faster.

My eyes rolled back and I couldn't help but press my legs against his head. With my legs I pulled him closer to my center and Hitoshi responded to my action with a soft moan. His tongue moved faster against my clitoris and he nibbled gently on it. This mixture of the slight pain and pleasure overwhelmed me and I moaned louder.

A huge knot formed in my abdomen and I was about to cum. And all because of his tongue. "H-hitoshi…! I-I'm about to cum~…" I moaned loudly to warn him. At first Hitoshi seemed to ignore it, but then he pulled back. My juice was still sticking to his lips when he grabbed my legs and sat up. He quickly pulled down his boxer shorts before taking a condom and opening it. "You're only coming around my cock, is that clear?" he growled quietly before rolling the condom over his shaft.

I nodded quickly before spreading my legs again. Hitoshi pressed his tip against my clitoris and kissed up my neck to my lips. I could still taste my juice on his tongue and lips. It made my head spin, damn it. "Mnh~…! Hitoshi, please~…!" my begging seemed to be enough for him, because he moved away with a broad grin and slowly pushed himself into me. He looked deep into my eyes. His eyes were dark, but sparkled with lust.

As his cock penetrated me deeper and deeper, I moaned loudly and tried not to let my eyes roll back. My pussy wrapped around his shaft and sucked him even deeper into me. When his pelvis was finally pressed against mine, I sighed loudly. Hitoshi let out a low growl from his throat before kissing me again. This time the kiss was gentle and loving. "Are you okay?" God, this man… no matter how many times we did it, he always asked if I was okay. It was so cute and loving. I could fall in love with him all over again.

"Yes~… everything is fine… and what about you?" I asked as well. My question made his cock twitch slightly and I pressed my fingernails deeper into my palms. "I've never felt better~…" a cheeky grin played around his lips before he started to move inside me. Slowly at first, but with hard thrusts. A quiet clapping sound could always be heard when he sank into me.

Hitoshi pressed his face into my shoulder, which I used as an opportunity to close my eyes and focus completely on the passion and the feeling. Hitoshi's right hand massaged my breast while his left hand held my wrists. As a kind of security that they would really stay where they were. "Fuck, you feel incredible~…" Hitoshi whispered quietly into my ear before kissing me there. I immediately straightened my back and pressed both my breasts and my pelvis further against him.

"Hitoshi~…! Shit, that feels good~!" I just moaned loudly. Hitoshi's movements got faster and harder until my mouth was just hanging open and I couldn't make a sound. Whimpering, I looked down at both of us. My heart skipped a beat as I watched his cock being pulled out of my pussy again and again, only to sink back into me straight after. It turned me on incredibly hard to watch him fuck me stupid. "I'm coming~…!" Hitoshi moaned quietly and sat up.

His upper body was now upright and he grabbed my hips with both hands. Then he kept pulling me against him so that he sank into me more and more abruptly. I gasped sharply as he stimulated my clitoris with these movements. "Oh God~! Yes, just like that~!" I just screamed out loud. My head was in seventh heaven with pleasure, so I didn't even notice that I was also about to have an orgasm.

I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist so that he couldn't pull out of me that far. An amused expression spread across his face, but his eyes were staring at my breasts, which bounced with his thrusts. Hitoshi has always been a breast lover. I could tell that just by his appearance.

His cock twitched inside me again and again, stroking my G-spot and making me moan louder and louder. Until I finally reached my orgasm. My pussy contracted tightly around Hitoshi, which also made the hero moan. With three more thrusts, he pressed his pelvis firmly against mine before he squirted into the condom. His entire body trembled briefly before he laid his face on my chest. "Fuck~…! How could I ever be satisfied with quickies?" asked the hero, out of breath. An amused giggle escaped me before I kissed his head.

"Feels good, huh? Well, if you had listened to me-… Ah!", a startled gasp escaped me as he pinched my ass. Then he removed his bandages from my wrists and I could finally touch him again. "Be quiet…" he mumbled quietly before pulling out of me. He quickly took off the condom, tied a knot and then threw it in his trash can. When that was done, he lay back down in bed with me and snuggled between my breasts again. A quiet purr escaped him as I began to scratch his head.

"Can we sleep?", but right after I asked this, Hitoshi's cell phone rang. "Shit…!" he cursed quietly before looking to see who it was. He stared at his screen for a moment before slamming his cell phone onto his nightstand. "It's just Kaminari… he can survive without me…" and with these words, he snuggled even closer to me. Well… apparently we were able to sleep in.

[thethirdromana]

Modern-day jobs for Dracula characters

Yes, most Dracula characters already have jobs that still exist in the modern day: solicitor, doctor, teacher etc. But being in the modern day would have them make different choices so... what would they do instead?

Mina Harker: I don't really get the sense that Mina actually enjoys being a teacher; it's just a job that's available to her as an educated woman in the 1890s. What Mina does like: planning, order, timetables, schedules. Mina would be the best project manager you've ever met.

Jack Seward: Jack should not have a people-focused job, and he should be working with vulnerable people least of all. He's great at observation, and he loves to make a difference and be told that he's a good clever boy. Oh, and he's a big fan of up-to-the-minute technology too. We only need to change his career trajectory slightly, and he would be a very happy research scientist.

Arthur Holmwood: Not many British noblemen are able to live lives of idle luxury any more, so even if his family still owned the Ring estate, he would need to do something more to keep it going. Arthur likes people, travel, music, sport and the good life. So I think, like many modern-day noblemen, he would use the estate itself to generate income: hosting weddings, concerts, conferences and team-building days.

Lucy Westenra: Honestly I think Lucy would love the idea of working with Arthur on the estate. She'd hardly be getting married at 19 in 2023, but she might be getting a BA in Hotel and Hospitality Management with that future in mind.

Quincey Morris: What job does an adventurer/cowboy do in the 21st century? I can't imagine Quincey spending his days sitting at a desk. It needs to be something intense and physical, but also representative of a moment in time that isn't going to last. Quincey works on an oil rig.

Jonathan Harker: Tricky, because Jonathan is so defined by being a solicitor. But a modern-day Jonathan would have far more options for progressing in his career. He has a way with words and a kind and generous nature. I think he'd be an excellent charity grant writer.

Abraham van Helsing: I'm afraid there is no time period or universe in which Van Helsing M. D., D. Ph., D. Lit., etc., etc. is anything other than an academic.

[artofvisualshock]

Messages from the GazettE to the fans (Google translations)

〈 RUKI 〉

At the end, he said, "I want the GazettE to be forever." I think what he meant by "forever" was that he hoped that the amazing scenes he saw from the stage in 2023 would continue forever.

The scenes he saw with his fans, the happy faces of his fans, and the scenes where we all sang together were treasures that could not be replaced by anything else, and I think he hoped that moment would continue forever.

I remember him saying that he wanted to perform live soon.

Even now that he's grown up, he was a kind and passionate man who can honestly say, "Even if something bad happens, it's the most fun when we get together like this and laugh with the band members."

I loved that honesty.

This year was no different, and every year on our birthdays we would jokingly tell each other to take care of our health.

The band will never be a four-man band.

No matter what anyone says.

Because you're the only bassist we have.

Because I believe that my soul is always beside me to the right.

I'm sure everyone can feel it, even if they can't see it.

The proof that Reita has built up in the GazettE so far will not disappear and will definitely live on.

I believe that, so I will continue to sing beside him so that his soul can be right beside me.

I will not become the GazettE that Reita hates.

I don't want to make him sad.

Although all humans live in a finite life, I believe that souls never disappear.

Reita's soul, the members, myself, and the fans.

I want to continue to perform live shows that make all the people who loved me want to come back to the stage forever, even after they have become souls.

So it is only with each and every one of our fans that we can create the scenery that we hoped he would be eternal.

That's why I want him to stay by my side and be there, unchanged from now on.

He should look at me and smile, and think, "He was the best guy!", rather than looking at me with a sad face.

We are more determined than ever to protect this band.

We will make Reita's wish for eternity come true.

So, Reita, rest assured that you can come to every live show from heaven.

Your seat will always be there.

You're going to be super busy from now on.

I'll contact you again when the schedule is decided.

-----------------

<Uruha>

To all the fans who have supported REITA up until now.

I think he was a huge support for everyone, and for me.

I myself have not been able to accept and realize the fact that he is no longer here and that we can no longer stand on stage together.

There may be many things that I will come to understand little by little from now on.

However, if I continue to be drowning in sadness, I will not be able to make his wish for eternity come true, and I strongly feel that now is the time for me to have the strength to look forward and move forward.

I also think that the path we walked together until now was irreplaceable for him, and I think it will continue to live in the hearts of everyone and myself.

He gave us so much, and we walked together for so long, and he is still and will always be our best friend.

Please treasure all the words, memories, and love he left behind in your heart.

REITA will continue to exist and live in everyone's hearts.

We would like to express our sincere gratitude to everyone who has supported and cheered on the GazettE REITA.

-----------------

〈 Aoi 〉

For a long time, the members and a small staff have been working on various projects, saying "this and that," but writing this letter was the last thing I wanted to do.

There have been moments when I felt like giving up on my dreams.

Every time, we talked about it again and again, sometimes pushing each other, and pulling the members' arms so that they wouldn't give up.

Because we were such a band, the GazettE has been able to keep moving forward without stopping.

REITA, you're not the one who wishes for eternity, you're the one who connects eternity.

I can't say something clever like "I'll take care of you."

I wanted to make more music with you, and see more scenery together.

Every scenery is wonderful because we see it with the five of us, surrounded by our fans.

I don't know why, but it's so painful that I can't make it happen even though I have so many things I want to say.

When I get there, I'm going to start with a big lecture. I know it's lonely because we're gone so suddenly, but please take a rest until then.

I have a few more things to do here.

Thank you for walking this long road with me. Rest in peace.

-----------------

〈 Kai 〉

For me, REITA is an immeasurably big presence, saved by his many words and sounds, the mood maker for the band, and all I remember are really fun things, and above all, the sight of him shining on stage.

He is the best partner and the only one in the rhythm section.

That has never changed, and will never change in the future.

I want to continue carrying his feelings and continue with the GazettE with even greater resolve.

Finally, to all the fans and people involved who have supported us for the past 22 years.

Thank you very much.

And from now on, our feelings will remain the same and we would like to continue running as a group of five, so please continue to support us.

REITA

Thank you for all your hard work.

With the same feelings, we will continue to protect the GazettE together with our many friends... I promise.

There are many friends out there who don't want your 22 years to go to waste, and they are waiting for you.

You must come to our shows too!

Let's have some good sake again.

[wing-ed-thing]

Smoker Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns

𓆃 For how tight-laced and no nonsense he can be, Smoker isn't a terrible partner in the slightest. While he brings some of his stern nature into a relationship, you'll find that he's extremely loyal and surprisingly soft and attentive.

𓆃 Putting it plainly, when it comes to relationships, Smoker has been there and done that. He knows the role he's meant to play in your chosen dynamic. And that being said, he knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waste any time playing games.

𓆃 While early inklings of catching feelings might throw him off a bit (especially if you've been close friends or colleagues), there's little else that keeps him from being direct and politely asking you out forthright.

𓆃 Smoker is rather untraditionally orthodox in the sense that he prefers the traditional song and dance of taking you to dinner, but bringing flowers didn't even cross his mind. He'll hold the door, but couldn't give a damn about which side of the road you walk on. And if you ask if he intends to split your bill he'll look at you like you're crazy.

𓆃 And there's almost no way to predict Smoker's picking and choosing in terms of his relationship expectations, which mostly comes from him thinking things and then not telling you because he thought them so you must automatically know.

𓆃 You'll find that you often have to roll with random things popping up in your mutual schedule at the last minute because how could Smoker not tell you he's been dispatched for the next two weeks?

𓆃 And his reaction is always the same. He'll crinkle his forehead and squint his eyes while the words "I thought I told you 'bout that" pass around his cigar.

𓆃 Smoker often sails for a period of time and then comes back home to where he's stationed. You can almost always count of this revolving schedule, although if yours is remotely similar, it's rare that your schedules line up.

𓆃 Whenever he travels, Smoker always brings back a little gift from whatever island he's just been to, and you've even found that you can request just about whatever your heart desires and Smoker will find a way to get it.

𓆃 Although, he doesn't understand a thing about trends, so requesting a popular item will be met with a grumpy, begrudging attitude.

𓆃 "Why do you want a stupid little trinket? You're not gonna ask for, ah, I dunno jewelry or somethin'?" "I'm not buyin' you a Soul King vinyl. You know that guy's a wanted criminal right?"

𓆃 For all his complaining, Smoker will come home with a necklace and the vinyl (he sent one of his men to buy one incognito).

𓆃 And he complains a lot and you'll find that he can have quite the attitude. After the third time you've mentioned how much you want take-away Smoker is going to put his jacket on and get it, but he's going to be mumbling and grumbling the whole time.

𓆃 That goes for just about anything you want on a whim. Whether you want something sweet in the middle of the night or you walked past something really nice at the market and now you're lamenting over whether you should have bought it.

𓆃 And every time Smoker is getting out of bed to get you ice cream or turning you both around so you— or more likely he— can buy you that item you were so infatuated with.

𓆃 But for every ounce of attitude he gives, it's within reason and expectation that you give it right back to him. Smoker will never say he likes when you're a bit sassy, but he's very clearly amused by banter.

𓆃 Landing a clever clap-back on him simply makes him smile. The smile is usually accompanied by an eyeroll and the shake of his head, but you can tell he loves when you get a little feisty.

𓆃 In the same vein, Smoker easily gets suckered by a bit of pouting here and there because for being rigid and grumpy, he would do anything short of breaking the law for you.

𓆃 If you're someone looking for something serious and long-term, look no further because Smoker is on board with settling down. Once you're in a relationship, there's very little that would keep him from being anything but dedicated to you.

𓆃 Oh, except piracy.

𓆃 Yeah, piracy would likely get in the way of that.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[lululeighsworld]

collages of the dining room chairs we see in Black Butler -Emerald Witch Arc- Episode 2

(open as they're quite big. for reference, this is what we see in the manga:

there's one glaring difference between the manga and anime, do you see it?)

anyways, I leave these here in case anyone wishes to take a crack at deciphering the (zodiac?) symbols on the chairs. I'm most interested in hearing which symbol Ciel's chair in the anime is meant to denote (because it doesn't match the manga).

and in case anyone is curious, I leave my interpretation of the symbol arrangement under the cut:

so from what I cobbled together, the zodiac signs are arranged as follows, if you're standing in the doorway and looking at Sully's chair:

Left Side, closest to farthest

Pisces, Aquarius, Taurus, Sagittarius, Scorpio, Libra

Right Side, closest to farthest

Leo (?), ??? (though by process of elimination, probably Capricorn), Gemini (?), Aries, ??? (this is Ciel's chair; by process of elimination, probably Cancer), Virgo

what I will say is that I think it is FUN and CLEVER that for all the time the characters spend in this room in Episode 2, we get at least a partially clear view of each chair (with the exception of one; the one I assigned to Capricorn). HOWEVER, it is mildly infuriating that they changed Ciel's chair. If you compare the one he's sitting on in the manga, it's CLEARLY Sagittarius (his zodiac); meanwhile, the Sagittarius chair is the one diagonally to the left of him in the anime. I only had two signs left unassigned by the time I was done (Capricorn and Cancer) and decided there's no way his anime chair could be Capricorn, so for the moment I've assigned it to Cancer.

BUT I'M NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT it does not look like a crab, nor do I think it makes sense, especially with what's seen in the manga. ANYWAYS these chairs have been cursing me since the episode aired, if you've read this far, what are your thoughts?

(and yes I'm up-to-date on the manga, so no need to worry about spoilers)

addendum before this schedules to post: just realized that maybe it could be a flipped interpretation of sirius? i don't have time to go into that right now BUT, it is an option

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Some time ago, @jimothybarnes asked if I would ever write a continuation to this ficlet. At the time, I didn't see anything else I could do with Cumulus and Cirrus and that world but with a lineup change, I wrote how that might have gone. Long story short, contracts are great but don't approach your love life like a lawyer and expect everything to work out forever. Some angst, it gets resolved. Probably less than 1k.

She tells her mate during their contract re-negotiation. Years and years had passed since they came to the surface and it was time to see if they still saw fit to be together. Cumulus still loved Cirrus. Loved the life they had stubbornly carved out for themselves here in this Abbey, where stone was cold and still and the water only boiled if controlled fire helped it first. Where the sky seemed to stretch forever, no end in sight. But things had changed. Unlike Hell, time took its toll on the inhabitants of the surface. And like any toll, Cumulus was being asked to pay her dues.

“So you're leaving me.” Cirrus says bluntly. Their contract sits between them, parchment imbued with magic and their blood. On it are the terms they agreed upon for the duration of their mating; a shared nest, divided duties, food and glory to be equally split. To anyone else it was cold and clinical but to Cumulus and Cirrus it made sense and that was why they loved each other so fiercely after so long. 

“Technically, you're leaving me.” Cumulus teases and the very air shifts when Cirrus doesn't smile back. 

“What's happening?” Cirrus asks. Her arms are crossed, nails digging into her sleeves. She's stiff and the most stressed Cumulus has ever seen her. “Tell me. You promised no secrets between us, tell me right now.”

The part of the contract regarding that flares with light and Cumulus looks down at it. No secrets.

“We knew this day would come.” She says softly. “The portal was only meant for one and you went in first. They still don't know how I got a vessel and…” This next part hurts more than she expects. “My love, I am fading.”

It was supposed to be a regular appointment. Omega had put her on a schedule of maintenance and checkups as fast as he could. It had been a rare opportunity for him to monitor a vessel not meant to exist and his excitement was as contagious as it was morbid. 

And at first things were fine. Her heartbeat, strong. Bones steady, skin pliable and bouncing back from whatever she let the others do to it. But the breakdown began quicker than anyone expected. First came the pain. The headaches, the loosening joints. The struggle to remember things, the weakened immune system. And somehow, all of that had become impossible to share with Cirrus, still so vibrant and alive. 

“I just don't want her to worry.” Cumulus had told Omega, who had looked at her over his glasses with an air of disappointment.

“She'll worry the second the contract breaks because you're keeping a secret.” He replied knowingly. “Would you rather have her go through that, thinking you’ve betrayed her or would you rather tell her yourself and get through it together?”

“That's the thing, though.” Cumulus said quietly. “She signed a contract with a healthy mate. Now I'm not who I used to be. And I'm scared.”

She doesn't let the fear show as Cirrus stares at her. Her beautiful, clever, deadly mate who swooped in one day and changed her life. Cirrus wanted a partner who could keep up with her adventures and now Cumulus couldn't. What were they now?

“I understand that the terms of our original contract no longer apply-” she begins and Cirrus makes a noise that from anyone else, could be called a squawk.

“What terms?” She demands. “Show me where it says such a thing.”

“It…” Cumulus falters as Cirrus pushes the contract towards her, the text enlarging and scrolling swiftly as if trying to meet her demand. “Cirrus, the implication is strong enough, no one pacts with a weaker party…”

“And who says you are weak?” Cirrus slaps the table, features distorted with anger. “We should have re negotiated as soon as our circumstances changed but we didn't and now we are here. Foolishness. If you want to leave me, simply say it and stop stringing me along with excuses!”

“There are no excuses!” Cumulus yells back, standing up to slam her own hands down and now they're glaring at each other, on edge and ready for a fight. How novel. They’ve never had a fight like this before. The contract was supposed to be foolproof against such a thing. 

“I don't have a choice.” Cumulus says. It's a struggle to keep her voice steady. Her throat already feels so tight and closed off and Cirrus is still giving her that strange and unreadable expression. “I love you. But I'm losing my tether to this world and I don't know how long I have. I want to set you free from this. I don't want to renew our contract.”

“How could you.” Cirrus says softly, furiously. “After all our time together, be so blind to what I want. I thought you knew me like no other.”

“You can't tell me you want this.” Cumulus murmurs. She spreads her arms and gestures to her body. Even now it's a struggle to stand and yell, remain composed as her lungs struggled to fill and her heart stammered in its beat.  “You can't tell me you're willing to watch me go through this, to remain stuck while this happens.”

Cirrus had always hated the idea of being trapped. Had always longed for something more, something beyond what they had after a time of stillness and comfort. Cumulus thought this would be no different. It was ruthless, it was pragmatic, it was Cirrus to a fault. 

“I'm not abandoning you.” Cirrus spits. “Cumulus, how dare you say you love me and then tell me to fuck off in the same breath. I won't leave you— damn the contract.  There's no one else I'd rather have at my side and if you're going back to hell, then that's where I'm going to!”

There's nothing to say. Cumulus' mouth hangs slack as Cirrus grabs for their contract and tears it to shreds, the paper dissolving into flame. Through ash, she can see the tears welling up in Cirrus' eyes as a new contract is drawn up, one of few lines and one that Cirrus angrily slashes her signature into, sealing it with a drop of blood.

“Read it.” She says and Cumulus does.

I will follow you to the ends of the earth and I stay where you settle. Your enemies are as my own and your pain will never burden me. When the time comes, I will find you in Hell again and cleave to your side to be forever as we are now.

“Cirrus-”

“Sign it.” Cirrus grits out. A tear slips down her perfect cheek and Cumulus' heart aches. With shaking hands, she adds her own signature and blood and the contract vanishes, leaving nothing between them. The silence rings.

She doesn't get a chance to say anything before Cirrus launches herself like a missile into Cumulus' arms, peppering her with kisses and letting the tears fall freely.

“Never accuse me of being heartless when it comes to you ever again.” She whispers. “You are everything to me and I would be lost without you.”

“You always said being lost led to great adventures.” Cumulus replies, too stunned to think of anything else.

“It would be tainted by grief if I couldn't return to you.” Cirrus lifts her head, her eyes sharp despite the redness around them. “Don't do that to me. Please, Cumulus.”

“I won't.” She promises unsteadily, kissing first Cirrus' forehead, the tears off her cheeks and finally her lips. “I won't.”

[phantomrose96]

I started listening to the silt verses a few days ago because I saw you and another person posting about it and it's SO GOOD I'm already on chapter 45, just wanted to say thank you and I'm going to read all your posts about it now that I can do it spoiler free

God.... I think I need to intentionally schedule chapter 45 for a day when I have enough free time to go somewhere far and wander aimlessly with a haunted look in a place where I don't risk wandering into traffic. I know the ending isn't going to spare me. I got to the "isn't my daughter clever?" sequence while on the subway and I was damn near wandering through intersections when I got off.

Also you're welcome! If I had my way I'd want every person who sees my posts to go listen to The Silt Verses.... Like, I did a The Magnus Archives listen-through 2 years back and half the fun was interacting with people about it. And it's like I keep WAITING for the whole giant TSV fandom to leap out like it's a surprise party because it should be as big as TMA.

I had such pent-up "Where's the fandom?" energy that I went and subscribed to the TSV patreon. I didn't even have a patreon account before. I made one just to subscribe to TSV. I don't even know what benefits I get. I just needed to give them my money.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

What is your headcanon regarding Vox and his sex-life outside of Valentino?

I feel like he'd sort of have to have to sleep around at least a bit, to keep the dynamic he has with Val evened out, if that makes sense? And maybe also to assure himself he's not all the way into men? But I'm hazy about the logistics of it.

He seems to emulate the the sort of corporate executive for whom sleeping with the secretary is just the done thing, but as literally plugged in as he is to everything I don't think he really needs one anymore? And I have a hard time imagining going clubbing either.

I dunno, I have a hard time picturing anything plausible, except for maybe a scheduled handjob during lunchbreak?

Would love to read your thoughts on that.

Ahhh I have so many thoughts on this but some of them are very ugly so I'll try to keep it as PG as possible while talking about this guy.

First off, I totally agree, he'd continue seeing other people even if Valentino satisfied all his needs because he wouldn't want to be seen as a cuck, and Valentino can't be forced into monogamy. And yes, he feels the need to be with women to assert his masculinity. He's also quite a sadist, which Valentino isn't always into, so seeking others is their way of keeping both parties happy (the third party - not so much). Vox is a pathetic, insecure control freak with a fragile ego and he's incredibly goal-oriented. He sees no point in going through the effort and risk of traditional hook-ups when his boyfriend, the main pimp in the pride ring, can get him what he wants with no effort. This is crucial: Valentino is the only one of his sexual partners whom he views as a subject; the others are merely objects to satisfy him, and if he treats them well, it's only to boost his own ego. When he's in the mood for a fling, he browses through Valentino's offerings and picks what he likes. Sometimes, Valentino even sends him suggestions if he thinks someone will suit Vox's taste.

I can definitely see him enjoying the high-end club scene, drinking Japanese whiskey, and watching exotic dancers. Valentino likely owns at least one sophisticated place that's chic enough for overlords. Meeting people there is Vox's idea of being "spontaneous," but it's quite artificial. He might engage in some chatting and flirting, which seems more natural, but it's all theatrics - no waiter, performer, or host can refuse him anyway without risking Valentino's wrath. Everyone under Valentino's control is genuinely terrified of Vox. Unlike with other clients, where there might be some room for negotiation with Valentino (not because he's particularly kind, but because 1) he doesn't want his property damaged, and 2) some clever people can manipulate him into acting decently by making him think it was his own idea), his flat-faced prince gets whatever he desires, always, no questions asked.

[citrusy-lemons]

meet-cute

tasm!peter x reader (university au)

summary: you're late to your class and someone's left a skateboard on your path. the owner of the skateboard has very brown eyes.

w/c: 0.8k

author's note: um, hi. this is the first thing i've written for peter parker (i know, shocking, i mostly read about him) so i'm not sure whether i've captured his essence, but i tried. also i know it's a bit cringey but i started writing it in the reader's pov and i couldn't change it to peter's in the middle like i wanted to so, i guess, next time. i hope you like this! constructive criticism is encouraged, please be nice :)

you had not imagined your first day of university to go this way. it was a cloudy day, pleasant and not too windy. you were hoping to make it to class a few minutes early and have everything set up before the professor arrived. 

but instead, you were late, you were not organized at all, and you were panicking. all because your stupid alarm hadn’t gone off. why? because you’d forgotten to change the timezone in your phone. moving to the new city had not been easy and now you were super late for your class.

cursing yourself for your stupidity, you were hurrying across the campus, you weren’t sure where your class was, but you were hoping that you’re walking in the right direction. 

checking your bag, hoping to god that you’d grabbed the right books on your way out, with a cup of coffee in your other hand, you awkwardly jogged across the campus to the building where you hoped would be philosophy by mr. jackson. 

you were in the midst of congratulating yourself on successfully having the correct textbooks in your bag when the earth shifted. 

okay maybe that was a bit dramatic but that was what had happened to you. the earth hadn’t shifted, but you’d fallen on your butt because someone had left a skateboard lying in the middle of the walking path. 

thankfully, your coffee hadn’t spilled but your books sure had. looking up you found a brown-haired boy bashfully kneeling down and start collecting the books, profusely apologizing.

"-really sorry, are you okay? did you break anything? i broke my ankle a couple of years ago but i was just being stupid, oh god did you break your ankle? i hope you didn't, that hurts a lot. i'm so so sorry, are you okay?" he finished, turning his brown eyes on you in concern.

he looked very... soft. he was wearing a brown jacket and a navy blue zip up over a light blue tshirt. his headphones were hanging out of the neck of his tshirt. he looked like he smiled a lot. his brown hair was ruffled, his brows furrowed and you realized he was still waiting for your answer.

"i dont think i've broken my ankle if that's what you're worried about," you sat up. your butt was sore, but other than that you were okay.

"okay, that's good, that's a start, anything else broken?" he bit his lip, and you tried not to stare at it.

"no, doesn't feel like it," you took a breath, and looked away from him, towards the guilty board, "why don't you explain why your skateboard was just lying there?"

he helped you up, your coffee was still intact, you dusted yourself off.

"oh, uh yeah, again, i'm really sorry, i was checking my schedule on whether philosophy was right now or in an hour and i didn't realise it had rolled away from me," he did look very guilty, his frown saying as much.

he returned your books and you stuffed them in your bag which was lying on the ground. he was still looking at you.

"be careful then," say something clever, why wasn't your brain working?

"i'm really sorry," he offered, why was he still looking at you?

he picked his own bag up from the ground and looked away, grabbing his skateboard too.

you blinked.

"i think philosophy is right now,"

he looked at you again.

"which reminds me," you walked past him, fast. almost running, looking straight ahead.

philosophy is right now and you are very late.

"um, hey!" you heard him call out and turned around, still walking. he was facing your direction, looking at you again.

"philosophy by mr. jackson?" he asked, his skateboard in one hand and his brown bag slung across his back. did he really like the color brown?

"yeah," you called back, hoping he didn't have the same class as you.

"his classroom's that way," he pointed his thumb behind him.

goddamnit.

you stopped and started walking in his direction and he joined with you as you went past him. he took the hint that you were late and didn't really feel like making conversation. you tried not to visually show your panic but he seemed like a good observer.

you both reached the classroom (it was the first room in the building how could you have missed it?), and saw that yeah, you guys were very late.

the classroom was full, and a middle aged man was already talking to the students. professor jackson noticed you both before you had a chance to say anything.

"ah late on the first day, not making a good impression mr. and miss...?"

"peter- uh parker, peter parker," the boy next to you said.

you introduced yourself and mr. jackson let you both get to your seats without further embarrassment.

you sat down, pulled your textbook out and tried listening to what the professor was saying.

you looked for him and found peter parker's brown eyes already on you.

[zhuoyichenpretty]

aww yeah ep 20 GOOD

I guess I do (very casual, broadstroke) episode commentaries now, halfway through the show lmao. Spoilers below!!

Bai Jiu BETRAYAL?

Wen Xiao WANTED?

Zhuo Yichen DETECTIVE-ING?

Ying Lei BACK?

*crowd cheers*

The dots are connecting like crazy with the big bad's whole inner core crusade and also with the simultaneous demon case like I did not recognize Ao Yin as the demon Li Lun first released eight years ago but oooh do I enjoy that minor payoff.

Love the repeated use of the demonic-spell-restraining sigils now that we've been introduced to them though I wonder why the Bureau doesn't ever seem to make use of them. Maybe they don't deal with enough powerful demons to need to paint those in their own (very empty) dungeon? Or perhaps just plot convenience. (edit: someone has pointed out the Bureau indeed uses them!! I'm just blind <3)

Anyway I kind of wish in the Chongwu Camp dungeon PSJ fought a little bc she's so cool in action and their bailing was a little abrupt, but it makes sense that they'd have an immediate getaway plan. Also this is an ep 19 comment but that line Mr. 3-Face Mask delivered about PSJ being fated to always be betrayed by her little brother(s) HURT. So good.

Back to the Bureau, I do love me a good framing, and I'm also happy to get a tiny bit of the episodic demon-murder-case style back. WX was v clever to hide out in Situ Mansion, and (small detail but) I appreciate that the others catch her up on the Bai Jiu thing onscreen. As an aside, I also like that the actress for WX got to be double-casted even just briefly. Seeing some of the actors get to play around with portraying various extremes in characterization and costuming is a ton of fun.

And then yay Bai Jiu backstory at last~! It's crazy how much that blood moon fucked up everyone's lives eight years ago huh.

Everything ZYC says to him is on point (and honestly, ZYC is really quite adept at comforting others, he just sucks utter ass at it when it's his fault and he has to apologize lmaooo) but of course my favorite scene in the whole episode is as follows:

The very slight shine in the waterline, the bittersweet smile/grimace as, deliberately or not, ZYC's words indirectly echo everything about the circumstances between the two of them right now??? Whew. They did that for me specifically.

Anyway, this was a good one to chew on for me, packed with plot movement enough that I didn't feel unsatisfied with just one episode. I'm glad that so far it seems like the release schedule bears in mind what episodes should be watched in pairs for maximum effect (eps 16/17, 18/19 specifically) and which ones are okay to stand alone for the day, but I also don't want to speak too soon haha. We'll see how ep 21 fares.

Also since this is a ZYC stan account (lmao) I have some obligatory ZYC thoughts that I haven't managed to fit anywhere else. I've been meaning to comment on this for a while now and was reminded by this episode: I love the fact that ZYC actually smiles quite often. I think it's a bit surprising every time he does because he so easily fits the archetype of stoic broody action hero, but it really is just an archetype he's fit himself into, and it's never clearer than when they flash back to smiley baby!ZYC (how freely and purely he used to give those smiles away...).

On the other side of this is also how caustic and biting he can be with his words, whether sarcastically or otherwise, and how clearly his face telegraphs his emotions in general. I love that he actually emotes quite a lot and isn't cold and unaffected in the least, just pouty frowny and awkward.

The last piece to this for me is probably his age (which I very much appreciated being established super early on) and how convincingly TJR portrays him as young and inexperienced and extremely earnest. He's so sincere in everything he does that it really doesn't take much to move him, which also (imo) makes his arc less overdone.

We all know from the start what direction his development will likely go, how he'll learn he's mistaken about ZYZ and how he'll grow to have a more nuanced view of the world as he creates more bonds with others. But he's so emotional and emotionally aware that it doesn't really take much push and pull to get him there. And actually, it's not untread ground to him—he is moreso thawing, in part returning to the open-hearted nature that he had to very abruptly shutter away rather than fundamentally changing as a person. I think to me, that makes his character more compelling to watch because his cynicism about the world is perhaps the least sincere thing about him. It's entirely learned, and not by choice. Relatable.

[bomberqueen17]

while i've got the file out

So the last bit of time when I was at the farm, I finally gave in to the pressure of @sassaffrassa's art and started reading the Queen's Thief series.

It's... It's great, I'm not as obsessed with it as some (the selective concealment of stuff that POV characters know but the reader can't Until The Reveal is... clever but rubs me the Wrong Way, not enough to throw me out of the book but enough that I do find myself resenting it, but totally understand how it works beautifully for other readers) but it is extremely, extremely ripe for fanfic, I allow that. And I found that it made me think about the fics of Ciri in Nilfgaard again. It certainly made me realize my error in not including any slaves in the Nilfgaard settings-- that's a big dynamic I missed an opportunity to include, but it's not a thing I like to think about and so I had mentally assigned it all to just be slaves working fields etc., which as anyone knows is like. Only a percentage of what societies that contain slavery actually use slaves for. There should have been enslaved people in the households, all through the society, and Ciri objecting to and wanting to change that could have been an entire underlying theme.

But it's not, because I had meant to write that story as a 5k oneshot, and also I'd entered it right out of Goblin Emperor fic-writing, and whatever that particular fictional society contains, it doesn't have any enslaved people. So I just hadn't thought of it.

Anyway, a digression, but-- it made me, on one exhausted evening, reread the next bits I was going to publish of Not A Crest, and then I still didn't feel like writing but I wanted to keep reading so I dipped into my extras/cut scenes/written ahead docs, and I found an entire a/u I'd come up with and wrote 5k of and then realized i couldn't possibly fit in anywhere.

But. It stands alone somewhat, and I could strip it out of this world and create a new backstory and file all the serial numbers off that too, and...

well now I have another book to write, so I've started a doc with the serial number transpositions in it, LOL.

Now that I'm done at the farm, I have December, January, and probably February without any major commitments. If only I can wrangle my ADHD-or-whatever into some kind of shape, I can hope to bang out at least rough drafts of a couple of these things, or at least enough of them to know whether there's anything to pursue. And, I hope, I can achieve some of my other personal goals around the same time as well. If only I could miraculously learn how to operate a to-do list and make/keep a schedule........

Behind the cut, I'm gonna summarize the a/u snippet and my plans for it. We'll see how this goes.

So this plot depends on Ciri's powers of teleportation and time manipulation, so it can't possibly be in the same continuity as the mammoths and the tall ships, but that means I have a ton of leeway in worldbuilding. It needs to be fantasy-ish but it could be sort of cyberpunk if I wanted. Really it could be just about anything, provided that not-Ciri (I've already renamed her Leila) can still uniquely manipulate time and space, and the mechanism of how she does that is unimportant. It should have a cost, of course, which will be part of the worldbuilding.

So the backstory would be that a larger kingdom/nation-state/whatever kind of polity gobbled up Leila's when she was a young teenager, and she spent her youth as a guerilla, fighting or fleeing and honing her survival skills. There was some larger existential threat, related to the as-yet-undone worldbuilding, but the reveal is that the larger polity attacked and absorbed its neighbors in order to fortify itself against a yet larger invading power-- could be another kingdom, could be like, space invaders, I really haven't decided yet.

Leila meanwhile has come into her powers finally, and has begun to be able to manipulate time and space. i'm going to give her a wise and powerful sorceress mentor, Yennefer-like; instead of Geralt she might have a sword tutor slash captain of the guard or something, an older man who loves and protects and teaches her. Undecided; don't know whether he's important for more than backstory.

And this is all backstory, mind. In this backstory, she finally comes to aid the armies of the polity she had been fighting against, to resist this greater existential threat/invader/whatever. And as part of that she's paired up with this universe's version of Morvran-- I've renamed him Corbin since it means Raven but I'm still open to changing my mind on that. Anyway he's got the important bits of Morvran-- he's both a hostage and a presumptive heir, far too young and far too responsible, a strange balance of overly powerful and completely vulnerable. And for the duration of the backstory, he is helping this mystical enemy-turned-ally (Leila) fight a desperate, scrambling battle using powers that none of them entirely fully understands.

And he has an underling, an aide-de-camp, a young woman who keeps track of things and isn't much of a fighter, and that's where Luliana comes in, and I think I'll keep her name since i made it up anyway. She's a relative of his perhaps, a little older than he is, but allowed to be close to him because she's so unimportant, and she's really his only friend. And she of course falls in love with Leila, who to everyone's surprise falls in love back. Corbin is secretly delighted with this.

The war is long and difficult and horrible things happen to everyone, but in the end they triumph. And Leila is brought back to Expansionist Polity, her own homeland being so thoroughly encompassed and destroyed there's no restoring it, and the leader (perhaps he was injured in the war? perhaps he was already dying? perhaps he's just a guy who wants to retire?) begs her to become his heir, which effectively deposes Corbin, who silently doesn't mind it. But the rest of the government does mind it, and insists she marry Corbin to give them stability. Corbin privately proposes that they have a paper marriage; he is not inclined that way himself, you see, and he would be delighted if Leila and Lu kept their relationship and just let him be nearby, the way they did in the war. Leila counter-offers; she'll stick around long enough to make everyone feel safe and happy, but then she and Lu will run off someplace to live in peace, and leave Corbin to rule and to marry whoever he actually likes. Corbin, too used to not letting on his feelings about anything, agrees to this. And so they all rule together for a year and a day or whatever, Leila gets a bunch of the reforms she'd wanted pushed through, they get along marvellously, and then Leila disappears mysteriously, as agreed.

She and Lu go off and live happily somewhere peaceful. She is unexpectedly bored, Lu is homesick and sad, and her sorceress mentor finally finds her and scolds her for running away. "Haven't I done enough?" Leila asks, and her mentor is like obviously not, but doesn't have anything to convince her with. Until a little later, when the sorceress comes back and tells Leila that Corbin is dead, assassinated. He could not in fact get by without her.

Leila uses her powers to go back, but arrives too late, finding Corbin's head on a spike and his hands nailed below. She notices his hand still has both their wedding ring and the ring she'd given him as an engagement gift on it. He was supposed to have moved on and found himself a better partner.

She musters the last of her power and jumps back a little farther, interrupting the assassination attack, but she is again too late; Corbin is mortally wounded. She sits with him as he dies, and with his last breath he admits that he has always loved her and never wanted her to leave. She needs to jump again, and doesn't have the power for it, but sucks the last of his life-force out to do it, which is unethical-- she also draws from his would-be assassins and the guards who betrayed him, knowing it's a terrible thing to do but will be largely erased by her abandoning this timeline. There'll be a cost and I'll worldbuild that in too, however it makes sense once I've written it.

And this is all still backstory, and the story begins as she arrives, just in time, to interrupt the attack and save Corbin's life, wounded but not mortally. But this time Corbin has some self-possession left, and he is still wearing her rings and apologizes for it and merely admits that he was relying on his enemies' remaining respect for and fear of her. We the audience have not seen Leila's two previous attempts and do not know what she knows.

(Yes, yes, I was complaining that the Queen's Thief series relies too much on this, but I admit I'm trying to figure out whose POV this is from, and I may well not use Leila's, in order to make it not dishonest to exclude this knowledge. We'll have to see what seems honest to me as I'm writing it.)

And the story goes from there, as she tries to restore his rule and tries to figure out which version of him is lying, the one who said he loved her with his last breath before she stole the rest, or the one who calmly, collectedly bled all over her and politely apologized for his inability to do as she had asked him to and find a different spouse.

Obviously I need more plot than that, but it will come to me, I'm pretty sure. But that's where I'm starting. As I've said before, I'm a pantser, and that means I can't outline the plot or I'll paralyze myself.

[cctinsleybaxter]

2024 in Books

I didn't get quite as much reading done as I would've liked this past year, but the 30 books I did read were all over the place in terms of quality and subject matter so I'd call that a success. One trend of note was that I kept accidentally reading the fabled upper-middle class white American man's Great American Novel, and, worse, liked them best of all.

The Enormous Room by E.E. Cummings

Cummings' semi-fictionalized autobiography begins with the abrupt end of his service as a volunteer medic in WWI, having been arrested and interned by the French with his coworker/best friend and marked as missing by the US embassy, and I can apparently be tricked into liking poetry if it's disguised as all that. My very first note says '[Joseph] Heller was here,' and that only became more apparent as the book went on. I'm flabbergasted that with time it lost status as a classic, and that people haven't pointed out its massive influence on all sorts of 20th century-defining media when it's THE prison novel. To describe the inhabitants of The Enormous Room or even pick and choose individual lines would be to recite poetry, which for me is like turning gold back into straw (oh god.. it's happening... American werewolf transformation.mp4), but everyone really should check out Cummings' structuring and storytelling graces here. Others have talked about a gift for pivoting between a kind of stereotypical artsy romanticism and stereotypical academic traditionalism, but if I had to sum him up in a word? Obnoxious <3

American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

Almost landed with the honorable mentions because it overstays its welcome and the descriptions of rape and torture progressed far beyond my stomach's limit, but like. Yeah. I don't think comparisons to Dostoevsky are overblown at all; hamfisted and predictable in places yet deeply clever and unexpected, NYC richboy ennui at the end of the 20th century has been captured so perfectly you can practically hear the cork going into the bottle. The moment I began to tire of the business card scene from the movie repeating ad nauseam and the My Immortal outfit montages and the hilariously-named restaurants where they know you I realized that it was a structural choice and started enjoying them all over again. My favorite chapter is one in which Patrick Bateman makes a last ditch effort to stop being a psycho by escaping to the Hamptons with his girlfriend ("like a spider, she accepted") only to spend the whole vacation vomiting in terracotta pots and standing around listlessly holding an ice pick. My favorite scene and line will have to remain a sickening, awful surprise.

The Devil's Candy: An Anatomy of a Hollywood Fiasco by Julie Salamon

Salamon signed on with Brian De Palma to document production of his Oscarbait adaptation of The Bonfire of the Vanities well before it became a notorious flop, and thanks to that this is one of- if not the- best books for explaining how a movie gets made. It's smart without talking down to its audience, and the fact that the film by all accounts sucked, continually and at every level, is icing on the cake for me. The approach Salamon took to forty-odd interviews and constant observational sessions, ultimately biographizing De Palma* as well as documenting the studio process is really good journalism, mostly very nuanced in how it describes people but also fun enough to select a few villains. There are so many details I'd like to share, but my favorite is the constant allusions to people taking vitamins, supplements, and random pills PAs gave them like candy because 1., it was 1990, 2., on a movie set you are not allowed to get sick, you will be killed, if the production is on a tight schedule and budget you will be killed more.

*As someone who has mixed-to-negative feelings on his movies I learned he's a very earnest artist who doesn't talk to his editors, so mystery solved.

Moby-Dick by Herman Melville

"For anyone who has experienced Moby-Dick, it is a privilege to introduce it to another reader- but a privilege that is abused if extended much beyond the invitation." -Andrew Delbanco

"The real joy in Moby-Dick is the pure act of reading itself" -Fone Bone in Bone (2001), Jeff Smith

"the x-files was groundbreaking because it was the first good tv show that was also bad" -Tumblr user thexfiles

Second favorite book ever.

Re-thinking History by Keith Jenkins

Jenkins wrote this short textbook in 1990, arguing that the way history is taught, especially in higher education, is centered around the idea that with enough work and primary sources an objective, fundamental past can be discovered and accepted across nonpartisan lines, while history taught from 'alternate' viewpoints is relegated to elective courses. Depressing that not much has changed in over thirty years, but I think the structure of Jenkins' argument is really helpful if you want to be able to talk about this stuff with people and push for change with institutions. His intent to make history an intersectional issue ("the ideas I discussed had long been circulating in practically all the other discourses around...”) means he lectures as such, and while I don't agree with everything he has to say we have way more common ground than is usual for me and philosophers. I'd also like to extend a special thanks to the tens of of grad students on here who started running their mouths about James Fitzjames shortly after I finished reading; if I wasn't sold on the argument that empathy isn't a progressive or even functional way of engaging with the past that did it.

From a Buick 8 by Stephen King

This is the best Stephen King book. It suffers from some of the same bullshit as all the worst Stephen King books, I think taken as a Vietnam war allegory and as a working class story (about cops?? famously working class) it may even be uniquely bad, I disliked the epilogue and think it should've ended with the last chapter, but I loved it. Not the second run at a haunted car story I thought it was going to be, but a science fiction story (within a story) wherein you are reading about nothing mattering at 800 miles an hour. It also made me realize that much as I tend to dislike King and his reign over my favorite genre he really is talented, and might be the best in the business at writing not just addiction but what can only be described as intrusive thoughts.

Okay, get in :-)

The Wine-Dark Sea by Robert Aickman

I have a deeply embarrassing phobia of eye floaters, something I'm only admitting here because it's too stupid (or perhaps.. endearing?) to use against me. The first time I 'saw' them at five years old was the first memory I have of feeling real fear as a child, and I always wondered if there was a horror author who could manage to capture that feeling- not in a Lovecraftian space creature way, not over-explaining, just imparting the dread of a little kid experiencing the banal everyday for the first time and it making them sick to their stomach.

Well, here you go. Aickman doesn't make the mistake of lunging for 'what's the scariest thing that could happen next?' He likes a yarn, indescribable only in that it would take every adjective, and incredibly well-written beginning to end. Even the stories that didn't do it for me gave me something to chew on, but my absolute favorites were The Trains and The Inner Room.

Honorable Mentions

An Unauthorized Fan Treatise by Lauren James

This compilation of blog entries from a fan of a fictional 2010s monster-of-the-week show was reworked into a published YA novel that I haven't read, but I think the original formatting of a website with hyperlinks and comment sections you have to manually scroll through is quintessential to its working in the first place. People are writing more and more fiction revolving around the internet I grew up on (some of them grew up on it with me!), but this is one of very few I've found to have both the correct voice and an engaging plot. My equivalent of taking a mass market on an airplane so a little surface-level, but the finer details had me covering my mouth to laugh in horror because yeah, that's exactly how it would've played out.

Right Ho, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

The entire plot stemming from an argument over a dinner jacket is hot.

Starman: The Truth Behind the Legend of Yuri Gagarin by Jamie Doran and Piers Bizony

"The Americans only counted down to add drama for their television." -Vostok guidance and trajectory expert Yuri Mazzhorin

A years-old rec from @barstoolblues that presents an excellent biography of Gagarin, probably as comprehensive as was possible in the 90s, but even more interesting insight into the space race. With years of interviews and research to sort through Doran and Bizony aren't always economical in their pacing, but the book is well-cited, well-written, and never boring. I also think it truly helps to have 'third party' (UK) authors who're critical of the USSR in very different ways than Americans and who are willing to be just as critical of the US. You'll have to turn to the book for wider context, but one of my favorite anecdotes is that they made Gagarin's professional rival Gherman Titov suit up ("dressed in the twentieth century's most distinctive suits of armour…") and go to the launch pad with him as his understudy. World's funniest, saddest psychological torture, though they did get to clonk helmets as a kiss goodbye which is very cute.

[vodika-vibes]

Hey, babes, I'm back, but only because you asked for a Dogma request, lol. I am very happy to oblige 🥰

I left my paper with all my notes on it at work, so I'm trying to remember what gemstone and time I haven't asked for yet...

So, let's do Dogma, with a tanzanite, and 0600 (because it's Dogma, lol 😂)

Please and thank you 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

I See You

Summary: You and Dogma are nothing alike, and that’s why you work so well together. You just have to remind him from time to time.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x GN!Reader

Word Count: 661

Prompt: Tanzanite - Perceptive Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright! This is written, I'm going to take another nap on the couch now that I've eaten and hydrated. Hopefully the naps will help. Happy reading~

You and Dogma don’t make sense on paper.

The pair of you are as opposite as day and night in many ways. He’s neat and organized, while you’re not so much. He’s a stickler for the rules, and you've always viewed the rules as guidelines, rather than hard edicts.

He’s not much of a people person, and you’re something of a social butterfly.

No. On paper, the two of you don’t make sense, but you do work together. 

He brings some much needed order to your life, and you help him see that there’s more to life than being a soldier. Sure, there were some growing pains when your relationship first started, but you haven’t had any problems in months. 

So when Dogma starts pulling away, you’re concerned. 

Your immediate concern is that one of his brothers put a thought into his head, made him think that he’s breaking a rule by dating you. It’s happened before, after all. Though when you put your foot down and told his brothers that you would date Dogma or you would date none of them, that stopped right quick.

But, the more you watched him, the more you realized that this was something else.

It had to be something else.

So you wake with his alarm early one morning, when the sun is still low over the horizon, and you settle against the headboard as you watch him get ready for the day. 

He likes keeping his schedule the same, even on days when he’s not working, which is why he’s awake at 0600 every morning. It can be frustrating, but you love him, so you deal with it.

He’s watching you with dark eyes, “Why are you awake, cyare?” Dogma asks, “You never wake up this early on your days off.”

You tilt your head as you watch him pull a loose tee shirt over his head, “I’m thinking.” You muse thoughtfully, as you allow your gaze to trace the geometric tattoos that run down his arm.

He folds his arms, “About what?”

Your gaze drifts up to his face, and you trace the tattoo on his face with a small, fond smile. “You, mostly.” A flush raises onto his cheeks and he averts his gaze. His shoulders seem to curl in on him, and you frown.

Your Dogma is so clever. He knows wartime and battles and weapons and ships-

But you know people. You read people like he reads books. And you don’t like what you’re reading on his body.

“Dogma,” You slide to the edge of the bed, reaching out for him, “When did you become so uncertain of my love for you?” You ask softly, “Have I said something?”

His gaze snaps to yours, “I’ve never doubted that!”

“Then,” You muse thoughtfully, “Perhaps you’re unsure of your love for me?”

“Never,” His arms unfold and he slides his hands into yours before he kneels at your feet, “I’m not sure about a lot of things, cyare, but you…I’ve never doubted how I feel for you. Or how you feel for me.”

You slide your hands up his arms to press them against his face, “But you are unsure about something.”

He hesitates, “One of my brothers,” Dogma finally admits, “has been telling me that I don’t deserve you. And,” he sighs, quiet and slow, “I can’t help but think that he’s got a point.”

You’re quiet for a moment, “Dogma,” You lightly tug him in to brush your lips against his, “My opinion on this remains as it was when we first started dating.”

He shoots you a puzzled look.

Your smile is soft, “My choice is you. It’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”

Dogma smiles, it's a small thing, but it’s real, and he pulls your head down to press your forehead against his. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Because I see you, Dogma. I always have. And I like what I see.”

[ruleroftheimps]

Okay, actually adding onto this because I swear I have reasons for believing this at the time. Now, I'm not so sure after seeing some other ideas people have, but, eh, whatever, fanfiction exists for this reason, and I like this idea for an au lol.

Oh, yeah, and a read more here because this is way too long for such a stupid idea.

How this idea originated (It's important, I swear)

Iirc, there are two points where it hints at Alastor's deal. I'm ignoring the black eye thing because I think that was just a coincidence. I could be wrong, but I'm just not counting it as proof one way or another since it's not explicitly canon. One, Husk's comment about Alastor 'being on a leash'. I do think that this could be in regards to Mimzy and not Husk actually knowing something, but Alastor's reaction is, uh, pretty telling. And, two, his part in the Finale where he talks about 'unclipping his wings'.

The leash statement does hint at a potential soul deal since we see that they literally can be put on a leash (Husk and Angel) by their deal, but, like I said, I don't think Husk would even know about Alastor's deal. Mainly because there's no sign he does know. Husk is perceptive, sure, so there's a chance he does, but you would think that somebody who clearly wants off his own leash, is as clever as Husk is shown to be, and also has dirt on the person he lost his soul to would be using it somehow. Yeah, Alastor's scary and threatened him, but souls are a pretty big deal in Hell, as evident by Alastor's reaction, Alastor presumably has a LOT of enemies, and Husk used to be an Overlord. He probably has the ability to use such information to his advantage, although there is a chance he just finds it too risky.

Also, that comment doesn't really... make sense? They were talking about Mimzy, why would Husk just randomly bring that up? Yeah, he looked annoyed that his concerns were being dismissed, but Husk's character seems smarter than just bringing up something he knows will piss Alastor off just to be petty. This is all just speculation, and for what I consider at this point to be a crack theory on my end, but I'm cooking. Ish. Not really, but if you made it this far, you'll probably keep reading lol.

So, the point of the last two paragraphs was that I don't think Husk was talking about a deal Alastor made, but more so how he acts like Mimzy's guard dog. Alastor panicked and overreacted, hence the light show and whatnot, and thus revealing he has a deal to us, the viewers, and probably Husk.

The second comment is from Alastor directly and we can take it as truth, since he's never directly lied to anybody in the show, and also was clearly not happy about it. Also, Alastor strikes me as the type (This is just my interpretation) as the type who's constantly playing himself up as stronger than he actually is (I actually want to do a comparison on how Vox sort of makes himself seem friendly/approachable vs Alastor, who revels in being feared). His exact words are 'Once I find out how to unclip my wings', and he's very obviously blaming his deal for his loss in the fight against Adam. This implies that something or someone is hindering his powers. Coupled with the fact that we know he has a deal of some sorts, it's not too big of a leap to assume it's the deal's fault.

Hence why I believed the deal's purpose was, at least on the deal maker's part, to, as Alastor put it, 'clip his wings' and keep him weaker. Now the question is just why.

The Reason

The immediate idea was it had something to do with Alastor, you know, terrorizing everybody in Hell when he arrived, and taking down various Overlords. And it's emphasized that they were important/powerful ones.

While we don't know what Overlords do exactly, beside owns chunks of territory and have vicious song battles because they're petty as FU- *cough, cough*, Carmilla does say 'Together, you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new Extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest.' This implies that at least part of their job is to protect the souls under their control, mostly for their own sake. Although, this particular wording DOES imply care, and I think we know some Sinners sold their souls for protection? I'm not sure about that though, but either way it's irrelevant because we know at least some Overlords (Carmilla) want to protect the souls under their control, whether for their own gain or for the sake of actually... being nice?

We also- okay, don't know, since the Pilot is soft-canon, but we know there's a fairly big CHANCE certain Overlords are close to the King and/or Queen, specifically Carmilla, Zeezi, and Zestial. And Lucifer is also confirmed to never really have been that involved with the affairs of Hell, which makes me think it was Lilith who was close to them.

So. I present to you, the Lilith's Overlords Theory. (I just wanted to name something lol)

Le Theory

Lilith, as the Queen of Hell and the first human to end up in Hell, wants to make sure her subjects are cared for, or, at least as much as they can be. She inspires them and encourages them, and certain Sinners end up rising to the top and are given the title of Overlord. These Overlords become her main method of finding order in the chaos, and basically act as governors over certain parts of Pentagram City, making sure that their districts are maintained and the souls who live there know what to expect, especially when the yearly Exterminations start. In exchange, they get great power. This makes the position much more desirable, meaning more people want ot get it, and the less... desirable Sinners start to take control over hundreds of souls. It starts falling apart sometime in the 1850s, and by then, Lilith has less faith in the Overlords. Sure, some are good, but a lot are just absolute scum that aren't doing what they're supposed too and just abusing the power they got.

And then comes this random soul that's somehow super powerful and has a 'twisted' moral code that he uses to find and kill his victims, and an obsession with power and control. Alastor kills a bunch of the less desirable Overlords, which Lilith is pleased with since it makes things fall back into order. Buuut, he starts killing a little too many and she has to step in to make sure some are left (Hence why there aren't that many Overlords now). She ends up making a deal with him for something on his end (Or just using her position to force him to accept it) and, in exchange, he can't kill/torture any more Overlords. Anybody else is fine though.

And Alastor's FINE with this. For a bit. But, after his falling out with Vox, this is suddenly a hell of a lot more dangerous, because, while he can't kill Vox, Vox is 100% capable of killing him. Hence the fight he 'almost won'. He did almost win, he almost killed Vox, but his deal prevented him from going through with it, and Vox was able to get the upper hand. Alastor dips for seven years to try to find out a way around this, and returns to Charlie's hotel with the intent of manipulating her into getting rid of Vox for him. (Since we know the Vees are the main antagonist for S2).

That's it, that's the theory. A FILM TH- *gets shot*

Some more 'evidence'/holes in the theory

This is furthered by what Mimzy says right after her story. 'Don't worry, he hasn't done that in a while.' Why would Alastor stop killing Overlords/torturing souls? He clearly takes pleasure in it... Well, the killing Overlords part is the whole theory, and the torturing souls part would just be he got bored when he had to stick to weaker souls that died waaaay too quickly. C'mon, where's the fun in torturing a dead sinner?!

This theory doesn't fully explain why he lost against Adam, to which I say; Alastor just sucks. He's nowhere near as powerful as he believes he is. Sure, he's insanely powerful compared to other Sinners, but Adam is the, as he emphasized a LOT, the First Man. He understandably is pretty damn powerful. But, why would Alastor blame the deal? Well, he's unable to torture other Overlords into giving him their souls, and, by extension, more power, meaning he is somewhat limited. Still, the main reason is just he's prideful and bit off more than he can chew, lol.

Also, how did Alastor get Husk if he was unable to torture/kill other Overlords? Well, he can't torture or kill them, but Alastor can still make deals and bets. Husk didn't make a deal with Alastor out of fear or anything, he just made a bet that he lost.

In addition, Zestial. This is my big thing. Alastor freaking antagonized the literal Devil, but was scared of Zestial. (He was nervous/on edge their entire interaction, istg). Sure, it could just be because Charlie was there and would 100% keep Lucifer from killing him (See: Adam), but stiiiilll, it doesn't line up to me. Also, Alastor wasn't afraid to go toe-to-toe with the literal First Man, so I think something else was up with Zestial, and this theory lines up with that, since Alastor realized he will automatically lose any fight with another Overlod because he's handicapped and they aren't.

Now, this massive post being made and put aside... I don't think any of this is canon 🤣 It doesn't feel like it's big enough or dramatic enough, but I stinking love it, so I decided to share it and all the reasons why it sort of makes sense. Feel free to send me any asks about holes in the theory/questions about it though, I think it's still a cool theory.