#i think what was being done there was excellent on its own And as a departure from the comics

[togglesbloggle]

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme, Lamarckism!

(This is an excellent ask.)

Lamarck got done a bit dirty by the textbooks, as one so often is. He's billed as the guy who articulated an evolutionary theory of inherited characteristics, inevitably set up as an opponent made of straw for Darwin to knock down. The example I recall my own teachers using in grade school was the idea that a giraffe would strain to reach the highest branches of a tree, and as a result, its offspring would be born with slightly longer necks. Ha-ha-ha, isn't-that-silly, isn't natural selection so much more sensible?

But the thing is, this wasn't his idea, not even close. People have been running with ideas like that since antiquity at least. What Lamarck did was to systematize that claim, in the context of a wider and much more interesting theory.

Lamarck was born in to an era where natural philosophy was slowly giving way to Baconian science in the modern sense- that strange, eighteenth century, the one caught in an uneasy tension between Newton the alchemist and Darwin the naturalist. This is the century of Ben Franklin and his key and his kite, and the awed discovery that this "electricity" business was somehow involved in living organisms- the discovery that paved the way for Shelley's Frankenstein. This was the era when alchemy was fighting its last desperate battles with chemistry, when the division between 'organic' and 'inorganic' chemistry was fundamental- the first synthesis of organic molecules in the laboratory wouldn't occur until 1828, the year before Lamarck's death. We do not have atoms, not yet. Mendel and genetics are still more than a century away; we won't even have cells for another half-century or more.

Lamarck stepped in to that strange moment. I don't think he was a bold revolutionary, really, or had much interest in being one. He was profoundly interested in the structure and relationships between species, and when we're not using him as a punching bag in grade schools, some people manage to remember that he was a banging good taxonomist, and made real progress in the classification of invertebrates. He started life believing in the total immutability of species, but later was convinced that evolution really was occurring- not because somebody taught him in the classroom, or because it was the accepted wisdom of the time, but through deep, continued exposure to nature itself. He was convinced by the evidence of his senses.

(Mostly snails.)

His problem was complexity. When he'd been working as a botanist, he had this neat little idea to order organisms by complexity, starting with the grubbiest, saddest little seaweed or fern, up through lovely flowering plants. This was not an evolutionary theory, just an organizing structure; essentially, just a sort of museum display. But when he was asked to do the same thing with invertebrates, he realized rather quickly that this task had problems. A linear sorting from simple to complex seemed embarrassingly artificial, because it elided too many different kinds of complexity, and ignored obvious similarities and shared characteristics.

When he went back to the drawing board, he found better organizing schema; you'd recognize them today. There were hierarchies, nested identities. Simple forms with only basic, shared anatomical patterns, each functioning as a sort of superset implying more complex groups within it, defined additively by the addition of new organs or structures in the body. He'd made a taxonomic tree.

Even more shockingly, he realized something deep and true in what he was looking at: this wasn't just an abstract mapping of invertebrates to a conceptual diagram of their structures. This was a map in time. Complexities in invertebrates- in all organisms!- must have been accumulating in simpler forms, such that the most complicated organisms were also the youngest.

This is the essential revolution of Lamarckian evolution, not the inherited characteristics thing. His theory, in its full accounting, is actually quite elaborate. Summarized slightly less badly than it is in your grade school classroom (though still pretty badly, I'm by no means an expert on this stuff), it looks something like this:

As we all know, animals and plants are sometimes generated ex nihilo in different places, like maggots spontaneously appearing in middens. However, the spontaneous generation of life is much weaker than we have supposed; it can only result in the most basic, simple organisms (e.g. polyps). All the dizzying complexity we see in the world around us must have happened iteratively, in a sequence over time that operated on inheritance between one organism and its descendants.

As we all know, living things are dynamic in relation to inorganic matter, and this vital power includes an occasional tendency to gain in complexity. However, this tendency is not a spiritual or supernatural effect; it's a function of natural, material processes working over time. Probably this has something to do with fluids such as 'heat' and 'electricity' which are known to concentrate in living tissues. When features appear spontaneously in an organism, that should be understood as an intrinsic propensity of the organism itself, rather than being caused by the environment or by a divine entity. There is a specific, definite, and historically contingent pattern in which new features can appear in existing organisms.

As we all know, using different tissue groups more causes them to be expressed more in your descendants, and disuse weakens them in the same way. However, this is not a major feature in the development of new organic complexity, since it could only move 'laterally' on the complexity ladder and will never create new organs or tissue groups. At most, you might see lineages move from ape-like to human-like or vice versa, or between different types of birds or something; it's an adaptive tendency that helps organisms thrive in different environments. In species will less sophisticated neural systems, this will be even less flexible, because they can't supplement it with willpower the way that complex vertebrates can.

Lamarck isn't messing around here; this is a real, genuinely interesting model of the world. And what I think I'm prepared to argue here is that Lamarck's biggest errors aren't his. He has his own blind spots and mistakes, certainly. The focus on complexity is... fraught, at a minimum. But again and again, what really bites him in the ass is just his failure to break with his inherited assumptions enough. The parts of this that are actually Lamarckian, that is, are the ideas of Lamarck, are very clearly groping towards a recognizable kind of proto-evolutionary theory in a way that we recognize.

What makes Lamarck a punching bag in grade-school classes today is the same thing that made it interesting; it's that it was the best and most scientific explanation of biological complexity available at the time. It was the theory to beat, the one that had edged out all the other competitors and emerged as the most useful framework of the era. And precisely none of that complexity makes it in to our textbooks; they use "Lamarckianism" to refer to arguments made by freaking Aristotle, and which Lamarck himself accepted but de-emphasized as subordinate processes. What's even worse, Darwin didn't reject this mechanism either. Darwin was totally on board with the idea as a possible adaptive tendency; he just didn't particularly need it for his theory.

Lamarck had nothing. Not genetics, not chromosomes, not cells, not atomic theory. Geology was a hot new thing! Heat was a liquid! What Lamarck had was snails. And on the basis of snails, Lamarck deduced a profound theory of complexity emerging over time, of the biosphere as a(n al)chemical process rather than a divine pageant, of gradual adaptation punctuated by rapid innovation. That's incredible.

There's a lot of falsehood in the Lamarckian theory of evolution, and it never managed to entirely throw off the sloppy magical thinking of what came before. But his achievement was to approach biology and taxonomy with a profound scientific curiosity, and to improve and clarify our thinking about those subjects so dramatically that a theory of biology could finally, triumphantly, be proven wrong. Lamarck is falsifiable. That is a victory of the highest order.

[meringuejellyfish]

adaptations that are a deliberate alternate telling of a story arent all that crazy to me (and also sometimes its as simple as someone like o'malley saying "the books already exist") ive been quite fascinated by this concept for a long time but alas i do not have many examples of this off the top of my head. but i do love picking apart adaptations and differences as a general thing. hoho !

#going back i really liked the roxie episode it was my favorite. that was the peak to me i loved what they were going for #i think what was being done there was excellent on its own And as a departure from the comics #anyway one of the only other examples i can think of off the top of my head is when i got little witch academia manga #a million years ago and theres a note in the beginning like ''hey! the anime already exists so i thought to go a different route so it isnt #boring'' and That is why they play volleyball yes this was an anime to manga adaptation #moomins is something with a lot of adaptations. the 90s show on its own has a lot of funny (?) things #like toft being turned into the lighthouse keepers son #i know. So crazy #and oh man. the 1960s show that was something (and tove did not like #this post is from 5 days ago i just slide everything to drafts

[el-im]

personally it's hard to feel excited for snw when it just feels so hollow? im not sure if it's the pacing or what but it feels ungenuine? and beyond that people's characters feel rushed? like i know hemmer had to be replaced but like we could've spent way more time on his character! he was interesting! (i might be biased bc i love the andorians) and not even touching whatevers going on with spock. or chapel. this is the least of my grievances but when they put that black undershirt on pikes green wraparound...hate crime.

yeah, I mean. whatever. I watched it in a single sitting when I was sick and it beat laying in bed looking up at the whitewashed ceiling.

I agree the exposition of characters seem very rushed. It kind of violated the “show, don’t tell” rule, particularly w la’an, who was kind of put in a position that needed her to air her dirty laundry in front of the whole crew. I wish they’d had time to create narratives around past experiences, kind of like they did with Kirk/Tarsus in TOS, in which his participation in a historical event was made relevant by whatever was going on in the ep. (This was kind of(?) done in the Jurassic Park Knockoff Ep they did but not super successfully). I do believe it’s a pacing issue.

That said, I will say that I appreciate it being (more, at least, than the other new treks I’ve seen… which is… only Picard) episodic. I love that they’ve got some new task to handle, some new planet to explore in each ep. In that sense, it’s much more similar to TOS than I could have hoped for, general relationship arcs aside. (But wrt pacing, sometimes I think this works against them bc of how the show is written. They could do a self contained so w a lot of backstory in TOS, but bc of how this show is written, it’s more difficult to accomplish all that in a single ep. Like M’Benga’s daughter? In that specific instance I wish they’d shown him talking about her in previous episodes, and people asking if she was back on earth w his partner or… and him going quiet. Or Hemmer trying to fix the medical transporter in an earlier ep and him freaking out, but not having that immediately resolved… the same goes for discovering Una is… whatever species she is. Would have LOVED to see some xenophobia first—the crew making jokes when they come across some anomaly that it must have been caused by them, or something, and her looking uncomfortable/chastising them/whatever. Or the demonstrated persecution of them broadcast from some federation planet… if we had more context for these stories, if their roots were better established, they’d land harder. But they don’t). So sometimes that episodic formula kind of works against them, but ! like I said. whatever.

frankly, I was ambivalent abt the whole enterprise (la de da) to begin with, so wasn’t expecting much and was pleasantly surprised by it, on the whole. A friend of mine has seen Disco and didn’t think I’d enjoy it, so I haven’t seen that, and I’m not inclined toward watching animation if I can help it so haven’t seen LWD or prodigy, the second of which is literally made for babies but. Yanno. I liked SNW. I didn’t love it, I don’t agree with a lot of decisions they made, but I can see their intentions/where they’re coming from. I LOVE this spock, though think you have to see him as separate from the Spock we see in TOS (like in AOS, you kind of have to appreciate their differences as characters, and learn to love them not as the same person, but as branching extensions from a stem). I also LOVE Pike. I had a lot of hopes about him going into it because I thought the original storyline for him in TOS was done so well in that two part ep that included the original footage from “The Cage”, and I think they did an excellent job tailoring Mount’s Pike to the character laid out there, all the while fleshing him out into a fully fledged captain.

further, I’ve gotta say, I love the antics/shenanigans, and how much everyone seems to like each other. I don’t get the point of rough and tumble, cynical sci fi 24/7. (I do—it has its place, but it shouldn’t be in Star Trek). Even DS9, which as we all know tackled huge narratives abt power dynamics and prejudice and genocide… had episodes where they played baseball. And fishing mini games. Picard, which I’m comparing it to bc, again, it’s the only other trek I’ve seen that’s been produced since AOS (I think), seems similarly jam-packed with shit. Ohh the Borg and here and so are the romulans and Deanna’s son died somehow and the Android suppression as a weird metaphor for ?? Revolution? Workers rights? Idfk? And there’s time travel and fascism and section 31 and corruption at the highest levels of Starfleet which only peepaw and his dog, tintin, can root out. And there’s his mother, for some fucking reason, and-

And it’s all horrible. Everyone’s cynical and mean and/or gratingly stupid/infantile (AGNES!!!!!!). It was refreshing to see something that… wasn’t… that.

#I didn’t care abt hemmer at all though so I can’t really speak on that point #I think conceptually it would have been neat to have an aenar onboard but frankly I think ent did more w the aenar in their last terrible #season by establishing them culturally than snw did by having an individual #who had maybe like 4 lines ?? before dying? I just didn’t care #I liked his relationship w Spock and their little carrot scene but that’s the only memorable interaction he had to me #asks #trek #am surprised by the Spock/chapel thing cause I think how it was presented in TOS was excellent. #her loving him and never saying anything. he feeling respect and affinity for her but not having/being willing to express anything beyond #perfectly done. and they both have to take that in stride because they’re professionals and have bigger fish to fry yanno #so I dislike that this is coming up as something so soon in their lives #when I think it’s something chapel should have been aware of then but let it steep and simmer #because the way we see it in TOS. It’s like resignation. #knowing she’s kind of. condemned to feeling that way. #but. #I’ll say again #I think comparing it to TOS isn’t the way to go and it’s got to be something in its own right #I’m excited for the second season! again. not touched by every character but didn’t really hate anyone #looking forward to cherry picking what is canon to ME #and throwing the rest away

[koifsssh]

The Greaser Au!

(oh goodie! it's here!)

bwah, where to start?

long, long, long rambles below! (Beware!)

Wally! I'll start with Wally!

As you can imagine, Wally is the little leader of the group! Promptly dubbed after his last name, "The Darlings"! (how darling they are indeed!)

Wally had grown a fascination with the trend, though he didn't quite understand the need to act so tough and mean, so he decided to make his own group! (with the help of Barnaby!)

Motorcycles, catchy tunes, being free on the road is something everyone should enjoy! So who cares if you're big or small, or if you like the color pink? Anyone can be a greaser as long as they got a jacket and a bike to go along with it!

At least, that what he believes anyway!

Speaking of a certain beagle...

Barnaby!

Barnaby of course wanted to join in on the fun, and he very publicly advertised Wally's gang at his little comedy nights! (It did catch a certain blonde's attention!)

it did garner attention, with the way the beagle so affectionately told of Wally's endearingly comedic actions from their day to day life. Barnaby also helped Wally organize the entire set up, helping him get paint and base jackets for the painter to personalize! (He also suggested Poppy's diner as a hangout spot! He had it all thought out!)

Plus, it made his best friend happy! Who could ask for more? Well... maybe Barnaby would ask for a hotdog or two.

Julie!

Julie is a seasoned hair stylist! She owns her own hair salon! She's excellent at her job, however more often than not she gets a unpleasant customer.

Stress can pile up unfortunately, and when she attended a comedy show one evening she couldn't help but be ecstatic at such an idea of being free on the road. It felt like the perfect destresser!

Talking on the phone with Frank was great and all, but nothing compares to feeling the rush of wind in her hair... So she jumped at such an opportunity! And of course, Julie doesn't go anywhere without a certain frowny bookworm!

Frank!

Frank is an entomologist! (and a part-time librarian during the summertime!) A dream job really, but every dream comes with its hurdles! Similar to Julie, Frank found themself stressed. Usually books were able to decompress them, but lately they've been growing frustrated, the one thing they hate the most is incompetent writing!

It took a lot of convincing to get Frank to even consider the idea of being a greaser, let alone get on a motorcycle... but Julie can be very insistent when she wishes to be! Not even a week passed before they begged Julie to stop her nagging, but in exchange they had to at least go with her once on a motorcycle...

how mortifying.

However! the thrill of being on the open road at a high speed was something they never knew they needed! Needless to say, after that, they were hooked!

Sally!

Sally was the last member to join! and she took her spot quite quickly!

Sally had been in Poppy's diner when she saw The Darling's walk in, she was in awe! Colorful motorcycles? Matching jackets? They all looked marvelous! The star couldn't help herself when she walked up to them, simply starstruck at such a group!

They all looked to be having such fun... she wanted to take part!

When Sally asked if there was a spot left for her, Wally softly smiled at her and stated, "Anyone and everyone can join!"

She was content that day, and from then on, it really was the best group of friends she could ever ask for!

---

whew! im done!

(this is my second time typing this... i had lost it all the first time. bwah. but it's here!!!)

im quite happy how everything turned out! I think i'll use this as a master post of sorts, just so you don't have to dig through my stuff just to find anything specific!

I'll leave Poppy's & Howdy's explanations here! (Just know those designs are old! All the designs in this post are the ones i will be using!)

Poppy's Diner!

additionally! I will give you everyone's closeups!

#oh goodness here comes the tags #welcome home #welcome home au #welcome home greaser au #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #frank frankly #eddie dear #julie joyful #sally starlet #howdy pillar #poppy partridge #rainy dewdrop #welcome home oc #bwah! #i need to make a relationship chart... #oh my goodness! #i dont know why the white on the diner clothes looks kind of grey... #bwahhh #at least it's ignorable! #OH I FORGOT TO COLOR EDDIES NOSE IN. OOPS.

[celaenaeiln]

What are some of your favorite Dick Grayson moments?

Please and Thank You 😃

My favorites will always be Dick being the canonical center of the DC universe 😌

Dark Crisis Issue #1

The greatest hope and the leader of the ages

Nightwing (2016) Issue #49

The Brave and Bold (2007) Issue #15

"And no one doubts that you're the best one to strategize a counterattack."

"Next to Superman, Dick Grayson is the one guy alive that every other crimefighter trusts."

JLA/Titans Issue #2

"--Founders of the original Teen Titans--"

Titans (2003) Issue #23

"It's a natural thing when Nightwing shows up. None of us are conscious of it, really--but we all look to him for orders."

Nightwing (2016) Issue #9

"You vouching for someone is worth its weight in gold. It was true in my world, and it's true in this one. In fact, of everyone I've met here, you're the least changed from the version I knew. Always confident, always kind, always cool. Dick Grayson--the multiuniversal constant."

JLA (1997) Issue #73

"It was sad at first. We were discussing the work--this work...and I asked him if he ever felt pride." "He didn't....then he stopped for a second and said...'The only time I ever feel pride is when I look at Nightwing. Sometimes I think he's the only thing I ever did right.'"

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #22

"We have a shorthand I don't share with any of the others, save for maybe Alfred. He's always been the one keeping me centered. Grounded."

"Dick's the beating heart of this family we've created, whether he realizes it or not."

Titans (2003) Issue #6

JLA (1997) Issue #71

Nemesis - The Impostors Issue #3

Batman!Dick - he's so freaking cool!!!

He's so amazing and cool and extraordinary and over competent. He's what everyone looks up to. He's collectively placed on a pedal so high by every hero and anti-hero in that everyone wants to be him or be acknowledged by him. People have died in his footsteps. Even the Titans, his own friends, hero-worship, look up to him as the peak of excellence and goodness.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #50

Roy

World's Finest: Teen Titans Issue #5

Titans (2016) Annual 1

The paragon of rightness and justice of the world - Superman - thinks dick is the best thing to ever come into existence.

Whenever you read a comic, there's always some character that goes "Nightwing!" when something happens and another responds "Dude, he's Nightwing. He'll be fine. He always is." That's the amount of confidence heroes have in him to always succeed and excel.

Like Kon said - when he shows up, people automatically fall in line. It's like second-nature to just follow him.

Dick has that Charisma, the leadership, and the strength to hold the entire community together and as a result the world. He's proven it, he's done it. Whenever the Justice League evaporates in any situation - because this isn't the first time the JL have died/gone missing - everyone turns to Nightwing for order and direction.

Truly, he's the greatest.

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #diana prince #wonder woman #oliver queen #green arrow #justice league #batfam #titans #titans as family #batfamily #cl confusedhummingbird asks #cl asks #thanks for the ask!

[shegetsburned]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | part i ‧₊˚ 𓐐

— ft. satoru gojo. suguru geto. kento nanami. toji fushiguro. ryomen sukuna.

a/n : silly hcs i made while I was starving and I hope it’ll make you salivate as much as me !!

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

normally he prefers to just eat what other people prepare for him, tasting his friends and students’ meals, most of the time.

but when he cooks, gojo doesn’t have time for shit, so I’m thinking of something simple but good. he likes to eat, especially sweet stuff. something sweet and salty, maybe?

he can do anything he sets his mind to, but is probably too lazy to cook most of the time, so he’ll just do the same two or three meals.

main dish; i’m thinking of teriyaki sauce chicken with some rice. it’s simple and soooo good. you can also feel the sweet taste of the sauce on the meat and it’s absolutely delicious.

you’ll have to close your eyes before satoru feeds you the first bite as he waits for your reaction.

i’m sure it’s sublime and it annoys you that he can always do everything just right. I mean, after cooking the same thing over and over again, everyone would excel, but this man has done it perfectly since the first time.

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨

man looooooves to cook for you. you’re barely doing the cooking when he’s at home and it’s delicious every time.

he’ll learn new dishes just for you and ask what you prefer. he doesn’t cook for him, he does it for you, to see your smile when you swallow one of your favourite dishes.

it’s not extra elaborate dishes, but it’s cooked with so much love. the presentation is insane and it’s always exquisite.

suguru will find a way to make an amazing meal with the few ingredients you guys have in the fridge.

he’s definitely the type to add his own touch to every meal so that it tastes absolutely divine.

main dish; maybe a spicy ahi poke which is a spicy tuna bowl made with fresh chunks of fresh sashimi and a spicy mayo sauce. despite looking like an ordinary meal, its lightness and flavour makes me think suguru would be the type to cook this for you.

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

i have mixed feelings about this man because he used to buy the same sandwich from the same bakery for years. so i have a feeling he barely used to eat, especially being so occupied with work and doing overnights; less experience in the kitchen?

but for you, he has a soft spot and wants to do the best in everything that concerns you, including cooking. so he’ll learn his ass off in secret and surprise you with amazing meals.

he often prepares multiple dishes for one dinner so you can taste as much as possible. this man is hardworking.

main dishes; seafood salad + vegetable stew + temari sushi (their presentation is adorable, you’d love them) + a bunch of meat and seafood.

kento prepares everything before you come home, living for the sparkles in your eyes when you see the delicious-looking plates on the table.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

honestly, he barely cooks for you. he usually just orders take-outs, and makes you pay.

I just know he likes spicy stuff. it’s always fuming hot when it goes into your mouth.

i’m sorry but this man doesn’t know how to cook. he just endures food or goes out to eat. i swear he doesn’t give a fuck about what he eats, as long as he thinks it’s good and enough for his belly to be filled, he’ll eat it.

main dish; instant noodles at best. adding canned meat and sriracha sauce into the mix. he’s lazy, okay? but who doesn’t enjoy a good old cup of instant noodles?

also, toji’s the type to shove the food into your mouth to make you stfu thinking you’re annoying because you’re hungry.

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

uuuh, is he even cooking for you, or are you the one doing everything?

i have a feeling he’s crazy about meat. he needs some in his meals at all times otherwise it’s uninteresting.

so if he ever cooks for you, don’t be surprised to see different kinds of meat, and it is spicy asf too.

he takes pleasure in killing the meat himself, loving the thrill of chasing and devouring his prey.

main dish; roasted lamb shoulder with garlic. a whole ass piece of meat for the king of curses and you. he’ll probably eat many shoulders to satisfy his hunger and watch you take your time with the giant meal he prepared while salivating.

he’ll eat you after.

© shegetsburned 2023. Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

#IM SO HUNGRYYYY #jjk men #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen men #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk gojo #jjk toji #jjk geto #jjk nanami #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #food #headcannons #hcs #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #﹒⪩⪨﹒my writing

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version

A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3

WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.

This is just great, you think to yourself.

What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.

It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.

Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.

After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.

The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.

“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.

“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”

“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”

“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”

What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.

“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”

“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”

Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”

You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.

“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”

“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.

“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”

<>

The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.

And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.

For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.

The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.

You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.

As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.

You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.

It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.

But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.

Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.

You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.

The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.

You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“

“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”

He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.

The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”

“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.

“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.

The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”

“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.

“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”

He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.

“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.

You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.

“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.

You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.

The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.

“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”

“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.

“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.

“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”

Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.

“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.

“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”

“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.

“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”

For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.

“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”

There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”

Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.

Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”

“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”

With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.

So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.

“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”

“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.

“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.

“Yeah…”

“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”

Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.

The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.

A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.

“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.

But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”

You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”

“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”

“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”

Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.

“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.

“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”

Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”

“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.

Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.

But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.

“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.

“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.

The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.

“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.

Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.

“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”

“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”

“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.

“Hey!”

Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.

“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”

Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.

Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.

It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.

You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.

When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.

His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.

Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.

“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.

The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.

He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.

“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”

You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.

“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”

The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.

Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.

After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.

“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”

No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.

“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.

“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.

You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.

Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…

Or his hands on my body… Wait-

You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.

“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.

He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”

You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.

“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.

If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”

“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.

You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.

Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”

“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”

The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.

“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.

“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”

You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.

“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”

Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.

Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.

‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’

“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.

You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.

“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.

“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.

“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.

“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.

With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”

Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.

The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.

You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.

There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.

As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.

*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.

Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.

“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.

And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.

That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.

As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.

Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.

You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.

“Goddamn it!”

“Oh, my god!”

Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.

“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”

“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.

“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”

“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.

“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”

“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.

Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”

“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”

“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.

“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”

Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.

“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”

“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”

“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”

You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”

“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.

“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”

“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”

A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”

“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.

His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.

“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”

Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.

Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.

“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”

You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.

One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.

“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.

“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.

“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.

“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”

Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.

“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”

“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.

“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”

Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.

Finally, it comes to you.

“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”

The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.

Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.

Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.

“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.

“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”

“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.

“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.

Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.

“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.

You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.

The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.

“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”

<>

After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.

You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.

The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.

Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.

As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.

You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.

Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.

You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.

What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.

Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.

Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.

Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.

The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.

“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.

“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…” you mumble.

Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.

The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.

“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.

“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.

“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.

But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.

Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.

Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.

After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.

“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.

“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.

Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.

It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.

You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.

Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout

the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…

The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.

You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.

"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.

"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”

"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”

“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”

“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.

“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”

“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.

"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.

"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.

"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.

"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.

"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”

"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.

"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.

"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.

“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."

"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.

"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”

The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.

"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.

"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.

"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.

The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.

Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.

Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.

Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.

“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.

"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"

Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.

Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.

“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"

“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.

"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.

You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.

“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”

“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.

His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.

“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”

“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.

Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.

“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”

Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.

“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”

You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.

Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.

“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.

“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.

“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.

“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.

In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.

“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.

“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”

You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.

A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.

“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.

“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.

Smack.

“Louder.” Jake demands.

“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.

“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.

“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.

“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.

“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.

“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.

“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.

Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.

“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.

Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.

How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.

“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.

The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.

You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.

“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.

You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.

You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.

“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.

“Jake, i-“

“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.

He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.

And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”

“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.

As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”

Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”

All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.

Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.

“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”

Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.

A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.

“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”

“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.

Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.

You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.

Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.

“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.

“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.

You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.

“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.

It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.

“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”

Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.

“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”

“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”

The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.

Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.

His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.

Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”

“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.

“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.

Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.

“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”

Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.

As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.

You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.

“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”

Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.

He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.

“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”

You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.

He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.

Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.

“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.

You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”

“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”

With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.

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[alastorsfuckassbob]

Vulnerable

Alastor x Fem!Reader- Part 3

WELCOME TO THE LOWKEY FAN SERVICEY PORTION OF OUR BROADCAST🗣️! Sorry for the long wait..uh ANYWAY- Its just a silly little steamy make out session I felt like writing lowkey unnecessarily added into the plot. Its character development This is done mostly on the grounds of I felt bad for being slow with the plot and wanted to give you radio demon lovers out there some crumbs.<3

✨The plot✨(these are getting worse as we go)

Our depressed dear y/n self deprecates in front of a "hang in there" kitten poster. before bitching about the cold on her walk home.Oh shit her house is broken into. In this life its just you and your shitty pocket knife. Nvm its a cool dress! She then spends a good half hour thinking about their old relationship's spicy times.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-Mentions of domestic violence

-Mentions of alcohol

-Fuckass Val

-A little make-out sesh (smut is scary so you can use your little imagination to figure out what happens after)

Mornings in hell were colder than one might expect, despite the nearly constant blaze of sinner set fire. At its heart, Hell was frigidly cold, especially at night. A part of you had gotten used to the way it clawed deeply against your skin. However, the other part of you secretly begged to some god somewhere you didn't quite believe in to make the sun rise a little faster. It wasn't necessary by any means, Hell wasn't anything more than a desert. All you had to do was wait. The crisp morning would lose its glacial influence as the sunlight reached out to touch it just as it always did. You just needed to be patient. You take in a deep breath, attempting to let go of your displeasure.The sharp frosty air pierced your lungs, unknitting the last strings of warmth from your skin on impact. Your teeth began to chatter. You curl into the softness of your wings, it wasn't much, but it helped.

From your recently awakened slumber, you had briefly forgotten the events of the night before. However, upon seeing angel slumped in bed beside from you, the realisation took root. The recollection flattened your heart like a careless truck running over a measly stray bit of garbage

Your performance last night was nothing more than a falsified forgery. It was adorned with the typical strokes and details found in your normal act, but it was so hopelessly fake. Valentino could always tell when you were phoning it in. Despite his fraudulent demeanour, he demanded authenticity from you. After your previous..altercation, you just didn't have it in you to thread your harsh edges in salacious intent. You were an excellent dancer, but you hated the prying eyes that glued themselves onto your figure. Val wouldn't be happy with that. You were already voiceless, he already owned your soul. He couldn't physically take much more, but he could still make your life a relentless nightmare. The punishments he so easily gave out always had a creatively cruel flair. The thoughts brought on a familiar uneasiness. You could take whatever he threw at you, you wouldn't like it but you would endure. You didn't have to like it. Your grounds were barren in the terms of genuine will. You didn't have a reason to keep living, you just refused to die. You would endure until the red toned city around you pathetically crumbled back into the ground. You would watch the world you lived in reflect the terms of your anguish in twisted perfection over and over again...All by the hands of Valentino. You couldn't do much else. Your dimly lit soul had grown more accustomed to calloused hands and absinthe than you wanted to admit..It was just the way of things.

Great now you were cold and stressed out.

Your mind drifted to Angel. His crumpled hair and soft arms outstretched in your direction. The night before, he had spilled a glass of gin soaked secrets, revealing more than you expected him to. His drunken tears leaked into the brimstone walls of your heart. You learned his name was Anthony in life among other things. He probably didn't remember opening up to you, you were surprised you did.

He had been in Hell much longer than you had been..he had been with Valentino much longer than you had..years longer. The thought held more pain than your sore bruise lined body could feel.

Valentino had the poor habit of misguiding his frustration. As much as you pissed him off, your groans of pain just weren't as satisfying as Angels. Even if Val dragged your limp body across the studio, his nails dug deeply into the flesh of your skull, he wouldn't be satisfied if he didn't hurt Angel too. You couldn't help but wonder how he put up with it all. He was a lot stronger than people give him credit for. How long had Angel been his favourite toy? How many other souls tied to Valentino fucked up as you so often did? How did he deal with the brunt of that frustration tipped in his direction? How many times was he hurt because you didn't give Val what he wanted?

He was an angry disagreeable man he would always find some excuse to take that out on others.You knew that, you just hadn't stopped to think how many times had you been the excuse he used to justify how he treated Angel. Your hand brushed a stray strand of hair from his peaceful face. You didn't want to cause him any more pain.

Angel at least looked warm. He still slept soundly curled up towards the edge of the bed. His legs were neatly cocooned into a pile of various blankets. You stretched, shaking the sleep from your eyes and the fog from your brain.

You stood up glancing back on his sleeping form. A part of you felt bad for leaving Angel wordlessly.. His night wasn't great either, even if it was your fault, you could still help make it better. You could also make it worse. You couldn't risk that. He would get over your sudden absence, but what if you said the wrong thing and he hated you for it. He should hate you, after all it was your fault the night went to shit.

I mean even if for some reason he didn't want you to leave, it would be easier if he didn't have to explain why you're here to the literal princess of hell. Its not like you could tell her yourself. You'd rather walk home a bit early and save him the trouble.

You glance at the digital clock stationed on his nightstand, It read 5am. Hopefully the other residents of the hotel weren't early risers. that would really be hard to explain.

You walked into his bathroom to at least attempt to make yourself a bit more presentable. You let out the breathy shell of a laugh; amused by the emotionally supportive posters and positive notes that adorn the wall around the sink. He was trying in some way, he was trying to make the best of things. He didn't have anyone to remind him it was going to be okay besides the small grey kitten saying "hang in there". on one of the larger posters. You pick up a note in Angel's swirled handwriting

"You're hot in more ways than just physically! Nice ass but nicer everything else"

It was a little silly, but it made you feel better for a second. Your eye gets caught on your hellish exterior in the mirror. God- you looked rough.

The mascara stains under your eyes did nothing but highlight the heavy bags that already resided there. Your hair had awkwardly shifted back into its natural texture in some places and erupted in frizz in others. You were still wearing that burlesque outfit Valentino had picked for you. Russet red dried blood and what you assumed to be half a fruity cocktail stained the front. You looked like an extra in a poorly funded zombie film.

Ironically the outfit had been one of your favorites before then. It reminded you of Alastor- big surprise there- almost everything does at this point.

The cut of the top and the off shoulder sleeves reminded you of the dress he had bought you to celebrate your new part time gig singing at that little bar downtown. The outfit's color reflected it marvelously as well- sadly the similarities seemed to end there. The outfit had numerous cut outs and a slit up each side. It didn't leave much to the imagination, but those subtle details kept it in your good graces. Not that it mattered, it was practically ruined now. Maybe you thought too deeply, but it started to feel painfully ironic.

You had sewn into the outfit memories of an ill-fated gentle romance and a shared cup of camomile tea, but ultimately it doesn't change what it really was, stained with the shadow of lust...Just as you had been.

The outfit would never truly resemble that dress. Even if you found an ounce of similarity. Even if you dragged it to the tailor and used its corroded bones to recreate the dress exactly.They weren't the same, they could never be.

You weren't the same.

You hadn't been for quite some time.

In the end, it wouldn't matter if he would ever consider accepting you in the condition you're in. Your skin will always sustain the weight of Valentino's hand. The vulnerability in your soul had been sparked by fear as opposed to love. Whats done is done. Even if you had been crafted with the object of love in mind your heart had been distorted beyond the point of recognition, it could never really be the same again.

With that, you didn't want him to find you anymore. It would be worse to watch him fall out of love with you as he realised you weren't the same. The love you had so protectively harboured in your heart for the devilish man was cut loose. It drifted away into the rotting sea of your soul surrounding it. You couldn't bring yourself to tear down the post you had previously tied it to. Even if you told yourself you couldn't love him any longer, the hole he left in your heart was too large for your will to cover.

You shrug on the coat you had slung on the floor before crashing last night and slide on your shoes.

You grab a pen from Angel's desk-if you could even call it that. It was nothing more than an old bar stool with a jar of pens and a pink glittery notepad. You scrawled a simplistic message. You didn't want him to worry about you. Even if he said he didn't care, he was sensitive. You didn't want to hurt him any more than you had already.

" Hey Angie! I went home- don't worry I wasn't kidnapped! Eat something for breakfast or I swear to god I'll make you eat an eyebrow pencil next time I see you..Love ya lots<3" Your handwriting was a bit messier than normal but it did the job okay.

You walked to the door, opening it it quietly, the lock behind you clicking as you shut the door to Angel Dust's room.

Finding your way out of the hotel was trickier than you expected but nothing you couldn't manage. Once outside you began to shiver. You tugged your coat tightly against your skin, not that it helped much. You refused to fly in such icy temperatures. The wind would be far less intrusive at a slower speed.

The walk from your apartment to the hotel was a little over an hour. Perhaps if you weren't so hung over it wouldn't have taken you as long.The sun just begun to peak out from the horizon, simultaneously allowing enough space for the nightly wind to have free passage, and the blinding light of the sun to assault your eyes; your own special little fuck you from the universe.

The steps up leading to your third floor flat were much steeper than you had previously recalled. Hauling your body up them took a lot more energy than you care to admit. Out of breath and slightly sweaty you were finally headed down towards your room.

Your steps creak in harmony with the ancient building's crumbling walls. You glance down the hallway at what you had hoped would be a chance to decompress.

You stop abruptly a few units from your own. The door was ajar. You pull a short pocket knife from the side of your shoe. The rusted knob looked no worse than it already did. The lock however, featured a few more scratches than you recalled.

You were too tired for this bullshit, You hadn't actually used a knife before. Stabbing people seemed like an intuitive thing to do, but your inexperience left you drenched in anxiety. Nothing within you wanted to go inside, but your legs begged for rest. There really wasn't any use in preventing the inevitable. Eventually you would go inside or whoever was inside would come out. Either way its stab or be stabbed. The door whines as you slide yourself inside. You knew the situation was dangerous, all you had was a shitty knife you mostly used to open packages. If someone was here to kill you..without your voice no one would even know. You pushed the thought aside. You could still run. You could still fly. You weren't hopeless.You crept throughout the apartment with the knife raised steadily in front of you- ready to fight whatever had arrived.. Nothing ever came. By the first two rooms you had lost your concern. It was just how you left it. You stepped into your bathroom, locking the door behind you. You must have just forgotten to close the door behind you the day before.

You glanced around the bathroom before you noticed it was not in the disrepair you'd left it in. A fresh bouquet of roses sat neatly in the vase, the old dried flowers tied and hung above them to use in your next bath. The radio you had so unfortunately melted been replaced by an antique model adorned in golden trim and a stained glass depiction of a small canary. Lastly, a neatly wrapped vermillion box sat on the opposite side of your vanity, a wax sealed envelope tucked between the box and the large velvety bow.

This was a bit ( really fucking) weird. Curiosity over took you as you reached for the dark inky envelope.

You trace the underside of the waxy seal with the edge of your knife, effectively tearing it from the envelopes dark paper. You unfolded the letter unsure where something like this would even come from. You had admirers, but anything they said or gifted to you went through Valentino first. He was the only one he deemed fit to give or take anything from you. He was greedy in the gifts he received and thoughtless in the gifts he gave. None of this felt thoughtless.

Dearest y/n,

I believe it is time you were compensated for all that I have put you through these past two days. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color. If it is to your liking, please wear it tonight. I hope to see you there.

With love,

-Yours truly

Val had gifted you dresses and other fashions in the past, more for his own satisfaction than as a reward. He rarely wrote the notes himself or even delivered the gift. He left it up to an unlucky assistant or just threw the garment in your face in passing.. Nothing about this felt like anything he would do. Perhaps one of his newer assistants didn't get the memo he is a massive piece of shit.

Regardless, you were curious to see what odd fantasy you were fulfilling tonight. You untied the ribbon. Upon lifting the lid, you realised today was going to end up much stranger than you'd hoped. Nothing about this made sense. The dress reminded you of something you might have worn out in your younger days..Was Val planning some weird 20s fetish night or just attempting to fuck with you? He knew the details of your past, with the exception of Alastor's involvement. Perhaps it was some form of psychological warfare you didn't understand.

Upon closer inspection , the dress was astoundingly quite tasteful. You pulled the item from the box pleased it kept going. Usually if the purchased dress was "too long" it would be cut short before it arrived in your hands, causing you a stressful few hours with your sewing machine fixing seams and hem lines.

You slid of the shell of your dirtied clothes and stepped into the dress. It fit you like a glove. The familiar 1920's silhouette and subtle inclusion of art deco threatened to pull you back into your old habits. It really was a gorgeous dress. The beaded scarlet fabric clung to your hips before slightly flaring at your knees. It sported a neckline adorned with crystals that dipped off of your shoulders and into the sleeves The back of the dress scooped down to your lower back a deeper toned train following it. Despite your otherwise disheveled appearance, you felt beautiful.

You look down at the red fabric pooling behind you, you don't want it to, but your mind begins to shift.

1929: New Orleans: The Bar

Your hands shake more than you wished they would, no matter how many times you sang here it always left you feeling anxious. The music sways in tandem with the bars patrons, mimicking the constant lull of conversation. You began to sing.Your voice cuts through the clinking of glasses and exhilarating cheers with a crystalline ring. You glance over to the bar in view of Alastor. His eyes trapped in a half lidded love led daze, filled with nothing but adoration for you.

You glance back down at your hands. They are covered in black velvet, contrasted by a simple pearl bracelet hanging loosely from your wrist. It was one of the many from Alastor on your birthday earlier that year. You had insisted it was far too much, and he insisted you were making far too big a deal of it. He wanted you to feel appreciated and loved, what better way to accomplish that than with a meaningful gift.

He wasn't fantastic with words when it came to you. His hands craved contact with your own. The sentiment he needed to convey didn't fully exist within the bounds of english, or french for that matter. You were worth more than any riches the world could offer you. He could spend his nights bottling starlight and collecting bits of moon and lay them at your feet, and he still wouldn't feel like it was enough. His mind drifted to your past. You were private with the majority of the details. He had collected the story over time from thoughtless anecdotes you mentioned in passing. He knew life before him hadn't been kind.Your mother had died during your birth, but her face stayed firmly in your grasp. Your father hated you for that reason, and he was not a pacifistic man. He felt you had taken the love of his life and left him alone with nothing more than a portrait you hadn't yet grown into. He had been sickly the majority of your life. The more you grew in likeness to your mother the less he fought to get better. He died when you were only 14, leaving you to fend for your siblings. You had raised them just as much as you raised yourself. If the world wasn't going to gift you a delicate existence. Alastor certainly would be. In that moment he vowed to make sure you never felt worried or lost ever again, he couldn't bare the thought of it.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the song climaxed into a loud jazzy finish. You glanced over at him again with a smile. You stepped down from the stage, the red fabric trailing behind you. You walked across the bar and into his arms. He instinctively wraps around your waist, his hand nestled into your own. The moment is pure ecstasy.

"If I could on pick one sound to hear for the rest of eternity it would be your darling voice mon cher" His honey toned voice whispered into your ear. You looked marvellous but the sound of your voice was entrancing.

Your eyes roll, a satirical air taking over your tone. "How many times did you rehearse that line Al?"

" Very evidently not enough. You've made i clear I needed a bit more rehearsal" His familiar sarcastic attitude evident in his tone. "For such a pretty face you have a hard time accepting a compliment"

You giggle into his chest.He placed a kiss against your forehead. Subconsciously you lean into his touch. You can't help but want to be closer to him. Your arms stretch around his neck effectively pulling him into a hug.

"My my, someones touchy this evening" his distinctive laugh following shortly after. It was the kind of laugh you could hear across a crowded room twenty years in the future and immediately know it was him. your hands travel to either side of his face, cupping it gently. Before you know it, your lips meet his. This kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is imbued with ever ounce of love you have ever felt for each other. His grasp on your waist tightens, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. The dark brown strands of his hair tangle into your hands. The kiss heats up faster than either of you care to admit before you finally register you're in public. He quickly composes himself, as do you. A sly smile stretches across his face. He glances down at your dress, his mind floating aimlessly searching for an excuse to be alone with you. Despite how deeply he loved you, he wasn't the type to display that in public. It felt a bit unsavoury. You were his and his alone.

"Darling, I think you may have torn your dress, during your wonderful performance. Would you allow me to help you fix it in a more, secluded location"

You looked down at your dress not entirely understanding what he meant. He always had your best interest in mind, perhaps he saw something you didn't. Besides, you didn't want to ruin the dress he bought you any further than you already had unknowingly.

"Oh I didn't realise it had torn. Of course, thank you love."

You take his hand in yours and lead him into the small dressing room. It was really just an extra office the owner had put a few mirrors, a changing screen, and vanity into. You stood in front of the taller of the two mirrors attempting to locate the tear.

"Alastor love, I don't see what you mean perhaps it was the ligh-"

Before you can finish your sentence his lips are pressed against your own. You lean into the kiss grasping onto his vest to steady yourself. You're caught in your own personal whirlwind. Your hands are glued against his sepia skin.

He breaks the kiss for a moment kissing the corner of your mouth trailing down your jaw and onto your neck. He sucks lightly against your skin

You're so precious to me y/n" his voice is deeper than it normally was. It held each desire he felt and simultaneously every ounce of adoration.

You let out a soft gasp as he lightly bites the side of your neck. He travels along it as your hands tangle themselves in his hair once more. God you didn't want this to end, but you wanted to feel closer to him. You drag him away from your neck placing your lips against his once more.Your hands trace the outline of his shoulders. His hands explore the curve of your spine and the softness of your waist. He lifts you up and sits you against the vanity. Subconsciously your legs wrap around his waist deepening the kiss. (scream)

"I have never loved someone the way I love you Alastor..thank you for letting me" You breathe out in between kisses.

He wasn't one to let people in. Not truly, he had a public persona and a private one. You were glad to get to know the esteemed radio host outside of the studio. You were so glad he let you seen him the way he was so afraid to be perceived as...Vulnerable.

A/N: LOL IM SORRY THAT ONE WAS KINDA SHORT. Also please let me know it the writing style and lengths are working. I've never really written before so Idk the right way to do this. Thanks for reading :) <3

-Also congrats to me for not using a song as the crutch to come up with a title.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #im knawing at the bars of my encloser #Me writing Al in the present challenge: IMPOSSIBLE #this is so short im sorry #also was not expecting many people to read these so thank you guys i love you #you best believe the shitty song fic titles are coming back next chapter #youre meeting him and having a big ol fight next chapter i just dont want yall to be happy ig

[justarandompersononthehellsite]

So... @muffinlance wrote a really awesome story. I read a post from a point in time, though I truly do not remember when since it seems like I've been working on this project forever, saying that she gives blanket permission for people to print and bind the story into a book (I think there was an also addendum saying that they do not give permission to be sold, since selling fic is illegal). This fic has had total control over my whole brain since it was sent to me (@creatorofthemind I believe it was you, so thank you forever for tuning me into it) back during the days of like chapter six or seven.

So here I am now, sharing this amazing journey of my first ever bookbinding adventure. Further reading below.

So to give you an idea of what's going on, this is a fanfiction about Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) (animated show version, the LA show did not exist yet and we do not speak of the movie) being adopted by Hakoda, Father of Katara and Zuko. (This might have also been what kicked off the Give Zuko A Parent craze, but don't fact check me.)

Overall, the characters from the show stick very well to the cannon versions, but where MuffinLance really shines is in the rich backstories and fleshed out feeling of all the non cannon elements. Especially the background characters. I would argue that the writing in this peice of fanwork could easily rival the cannon show at many points of comparison.

Now that you have context, we can get into the actual process.

To start, I used this guide to figure out where to even begin, and fount the included resource list to also be quite helpful. I cannot for the LIFE OF ME figure out where I found the template I used for the front matter and such, but it must be somewhere and I will link to it when I inevitably come across it again.

Then I began to typeset. This step took... a long time. I worked in chunks from about September of 2022 to late March of 2024. I would get a big section done, sometimes even the entire thing, but then find I hated the way I had done it and give up for months at a time. Such is the life of ADHD and flitting interest in projects I suppose.

And then finally, step one was done, and I was left with pages on a word document that look like this. (And do please let me know if you want the link to the document. It was so much work, and I would love to not be the only one to use it.)

Next step was printing out this beast. Ended up being about eight pages of front matter, and about 630 pages of body text.

That I printed wrong.

Twice.

Before finally getting it right. And then not getting a picture of it, because I finished at 4 am and had work at 7, and am also an idiot.

Then I simply stitched along, putting everything together into a beautiful text block.

And came up with a design for the cover.

Yes the glue did end up lumpy. Ignore it.

Yes I did have to sketch out the design onto a scraped page several times before I figured out what I was doing. Ignore that too.

The cover design does wrap around the entire cover. No I did not get a picture before I glued the thing down. See again: I'm an idiot. And just... massively impatient.

Finally, we get to the stage of gluing. Behold, my bookpress.

Of course, topped with Madam MuffinLances own actual professional-people book, Fox's Tounge and Kirin's Bone. It is Excelent. Here is the LINK so you can go and support this amazing author with the real-monies as well as the internet-kudos.

Then, once everything is glued together, one must give the book its "gilt" edges.

#atla #salvage #bookbinding #fanbinding #muffinlance #I'm a really big fan of this story and the characters ok? #They're really fun and I love them.

[rayshippouuchiha]

I had a gremlin thought and had to throw it at you. So we all know that JC and WWX revolved around JYL (as they should) and would 100% do what she told them to. Why had no one taken this to its logical conclusion? Let’s say it’s after another failed meeting in between JYL and her horrible fiancé she is doing the depressingly normal routine of trying to not be hurt while YZY is being horrible to WWX and JC. And she just takes a moment to breathe and wonder why them. What has she and her siblings done to suffer like this? One of the disciples comes over and offers her any help they can. This causes JYL to just have a moment of realization where she stops and tries to remember the last time anyone except those outside the sect asked the Sect leaders for anything. Because the people know that JFM is just passive at best and YZY is plain aggressive. JYL was raised to be a sect wife and basically shadow run a sect right? And let’s say she’s been doing this for years at this point. WWX basically owns the disciples and every resident of Lotus Pier. JC is Sect Heir and has every ounce of loyalty his people and siblings can give him. JYL has this vision of a sect run by the three siblings and it’s just so much better. I imagine for all that they were their mother and father JFM and YZY were very estranged from their children. It’s also basically canon that WWX hid so much of his power and skill from everyone as to not rock the boat. JYL rolls into her brothers rooms, sees the hurt that has been allowed to fester for to long and just decides it’s her turn to go feral. So now I present the idea of a coup. JYL points at the Sect and says I want it and her brothers go whole or in pieces? Now I don’t think any of the siblings is cold enough to kill JFM or YZY so I’m more leaning more towards talisman master over there creating a Jiāng version of Lan forced seclusion. Think about this would put canon in a blender and just shred it. We have Sect leader JYL, her co leader/Heir JC and their brother/Head disciple WWX. Think about WWX allowed to make the Jiāng a talisman powerhouse. Think about how a strengthened, united three person leadership which is really just JYL telling her brothers what to do and them doing it cheerfully. Everyone is validated, there isn’t constant fighting and money is rolling in from the talisman sales. The Jiāng all of a sudden are rising like someone strapped a rocket onto their ass. Let’s be honest the Lan are traditionalists who will swiftly be left in the dust by galaxy-for-a-brainWWX! Who invents like some people breathe. The Jin hold power by riches and let’s point again at our resident genius talisman master who rolls out the flags and compass. The Jiāng are getting richer by the second. The Nie are powerhouses and we have JC and WWX who are ridiculous and almost evenly matched. Lotus disciples are melee masters and going against one now makes a lot of people want to cry because Head Disciple WWX is going to drag his shidis into excellence one way or the other. JC is laughing on the sidelines because how do you think he got so powerful huh and let’s be real our angry grape loves watching people suffer. All of a sudden the Wen conquest doesn’t look to realistic anymore. Then WWX meets WN and WQ and decides to impulse adopt them and their entire branch. Then the Jiāng are now also the medical center of the Sects? Watch out Wens you’ve just lost the top spot to three teenagers two of which are really just following their beloved sisters lead. All I’m saying is JYL ruling the Cultivation World with her brothers cheerfully giving her whatever she wants while she can finally pamper them as she pleases. You want the horrible peacock? Fine buts he’s marrying in. Hey little brother you’re drooling over WQ huh? There is much mocking from single WWX towards his siblings. For awhile WWX is the only unmarried Lotus Pier sibling and boy is he hunted. Everyone is tripping over themselves to lock down the most eligible bachelor who is handsome and rich. And then WWX meets his LZ and how the tables have turned brother dear? Let’s just say the Lans are going to lose that fight before it even begins. LWJ is going to perish at their first meeting. Somehow this ends up a trend where the Jiāng end up pretty much never marrying out. Wow this got away from me but I now offer you this vision!

#Everything about this is perfect and I NEED IT #mdzs #prompt

[nyerus]

Overview of TGCF Versions

Due to recent(ish) events, I thought it would be good to make another post cataloguing all the different "versions" of TGCF, for newcomers and old fans alike! I'll also be going over some FAQs that I've seen or been asked so this post can serve as a decent info thread.

For simplicity's sake, first think of there being two "main" version of TGCF:

The Original -- what all the translations are based on, as well as the manhua and donghua.

The Revised -- what was released in print last year in China (only), and what was recently updated on JJWXC. The audio drama is adapting this

The original webnovel was itself not "censored." By that I mean, it contained everything MXTX originally wrote including kisses, swearing, innuendo, etc. MXTX did self-censor to avoid Real Censorship (hence the lack of NSFW scenes we may have gotten like in her previous novels), but that's a whole different thing. For all intents and purposes, consider the original version and (most of) its translations as being uncensored.

The revised version was first publicly released as a print novel in China. As such, it was actually censored. While "Hualian" is still there, and things are alluded to, it's a lot more vague. Kisses and a lot of other things were cut, including certain dialogue tidbits that perhaps were deemed a bit too obvious. (Plus a lot of Feng Xin and Qi Rong's cursing was removed lmao.)

HOWEVER, shortly after the print release, the audio drama started adapting the uncensored revised version. So we all knew there was an uncensored revised version somewhere in existence. It wasn't until the end of last month that we actually saw it! TGCF was available again on JJWXC after years of being "temporarily locked" to comply with regulations. (Though it was possible it was locked for other reasons. We will never fully know!) Not only was it finally unlocked, but it was actually updated to the uncensored revised version!

F.A.Q.s

1.) Why did MXTX make a revised version anyway? MXTX has mentioned before that she was not entirely satisfied with the original version of TGCF. Because she wrote and released each chapter in a serialized manner, with frequent (possibly daily?) updates, it doesn't surprise me that it didn't turn out exactly how she wanted. Now that she has the opportunity to sit down with it and go over everything on her own time, she's able to get it closer to what she wanted. In short: she's just really passionate about this story!

2.) Is there and English translation, or will there be? What about other languages? Officially, not yet. We don't know if there ever will be, as MXTX would have to re-negotiate the rights with publishers for translations, and at this time, we don't know if that'll happen. Unofficially, there are a few options: a. ClearNoodle has done some fan-translations you should check out here! b. By purchasing the webnovel on JJWXC now, you can MTL (machine translate) the novel. If you've seen screenshots in English floating around that aren't part of the fan-translations above, this is probably the source.

3.) What is JJWXC and how do I use it/purchase TGCF on it? JJWXC is the webnovel publishing site where TGCF was originally released. It hosts a giant array of C-novels, including most other danmei that you may have heard about. SV and MDZS were indeed also on JJWXC, but are currently (still) locked. To purchase TGCF (or any other novel) on JJWXC, cangji.net has an excellent guide and list of other helpful links to get you all set up. Please do check it out! Additionally, buying on JJWXC seems to be the most direct way to support authors. You can also throw bonus tips at them!

4.) How much has really changed in the revised version? A fair bit. Mostly, the changes are to do with plot structure, minor characters, overall flow, and so on. It's still essentially the same story, but in a way that feels fresh. Hualian in particular have exactly the same dynamic as before. MXTX added extra scenes between them, including very sweet and tender domestic stuff haha! There's also a few new lines of spicier dialogue to go along with some of the scenes that already existed in the original.

5.) So what is considered canonical? Both, in a way. MXTX has stated that she's happy if fans can enjoy both at once, and that we're free to pick-and-choose as we wish. Personally, while there are many things I prefer from the original, the revised version is something closer to MXTX's true vision for the novel. So I feel that holds a little bit of weight there, too.

6.) Will the manhua/donghua be adapting any of the newly revised content? So far that seems unlikely. The revised version facelifts a lot from the early parts of the story, which is stuff these adaptations have already covered. It would be hard to change things down the line now. At most they could add some of the extra dialogue or such, but we'll see if that's the case. For now, we simply don't know and shouldn't count on it. If you'd still like an adaptation of the revised, please absolutely check out the audio drama! It's easily become my personal fave adaptation of the story, and is made by a small but very passionate team who are close to MXTX. Thus, it's quite faithful and does the source material such justice! <3

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #hob #heaven official's blessing #this post was supposed to be out WEEKS ago but such is life lol #nyerus.txt #guide

[forthevillains]

I thought of this in the shower earlier lol. So, yandere Wesker and a darling who may or may not have stolen his lab coat or jacket because they know that if they act out, he'll be forced to stay with them just a little bit longer. Even if he's mad at them, he's still there by their side for awhile, so it's fine even if they have to be punished. You think our smart, smart boy would be able to pick up on it?

[To be fair I didn’t intend for this to be nsfw, but it ended that way anyway:’)]

I think he would be kind of alright with you taking his stuff, especially when it comes to clothes as he gets very possessive and the fact you want some of him with you only boosts his confidence, on the other hand though - yandere Wesker, being an asshole he is, would surely use the fact that you did it as a good excuse to punish you.

He was getting ready to work, to leave you at home, all alone and terribly bored once again. He was in a good mood however, so as he was about to leave, he even wanted to seek you out just for a goodbye kiss. Before he could do that though, he noticed that one of his coats is missing, his favorite to be exact.

"Y/N?”

You peaked from behind the corner, blinking your eyes innocently as your body remained hidden. "Yes?”

Wesker’s eyes narrowed as he realized that you’re hiding something, scanning your face to get more hints and almost immediately he got the idea of what you’ve done. It was so clear, how you hid most of your body, how you tried to look innocent, eyes wide and a playful smile on your face. For a mere second he wondered if you’ve really stolen a piece of his clothing or if there was more to your flushed cheeks and the distance you purposely kept between the two of you, but he settled with the first option (he knew you too well).

"Don’t you have anything you’d like to tell me?” your boyfriend asked, but you only shook your head and disappeared to the other room, of course wearing his coat. You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing he would go after you, maybe even chase you if you were to run, whether it was curiosity or anger he felt. And when you saw him behind you, you’ve decided that it’s really an excellent idea to run so that you’d waste a little more of his time.

Wesker didn’t say a word, he was pretty amused by what you’ve done. He took his time, since he knew quite well that it would take him barely a second to catch up to you. He waited until you were cornered and even though you looked really cute with his coat on (that was by the way definitely too big for you), he just couldn’t miss an opportunity like this. You wanted him to spend more time with you? You’ve got what you wanted, for a mere few minutes, but still - you’ve got it. He would come up to you, with a smirk on his face, taking you in his arms and telling you how good you look wearing it, getting you flustered, only to pin you against the wall, with your legs around his waist, pulling your pants and panties just below your ass so he could get enough access to your aching core, immediately sliding in the second his cock was free from its confines, indulging you in pleasure, fucking you quick and rough.

It was you who initiated it, so now you’ll have to take what he’s giving you in return. And god did you enjoy every second of it. Each of his thrusts forced a sinful noise out of you, your eyes watering at the pace he set only to remind you that each thing of his has a price.

He wouldn’t let you reach your climax, pulling out as soon as he found his own release. A whine escaped you at that and you hopelessly tried to reach out for him to get back, to hold you again, to fill you to the brim with his warm cock, again and again. But before you could do so, he was gone. He wanted you to be longing for him the whole time he was away only so that he could make up for everything when he comes back. And he would take his time then. But for now - he left you, full of his cum, with his coat still on, panting, legs trembling and cheeks flushed. He might miss it, though the way you looked in it, almost drowning, all warm and cute, he’s decided that one day without it wouldn’t kill him.

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you #oneshot #smut #re smut

[butchhamlet]

are there any shakespeare retellings you recommend? i really enjoy retellings but it's also difficult to find ones that like. actually understand the source material... i've read your novella duodecimal and really liked it btw! excellent take on twelfth night :-)

THANK YOU SO MUCH WAH... yes, i can recommend some retellings! i keep intending to make a big post with my recs, actually, but there are so many out there that i haven't read yet... so for now here's an incomplete list:

a thousand acres by jane smiley: the first one that came to my mind seeing this ask. it's a retelling of lear set on an american farmstead, and the adaptation is done beautifully and smoothly--it's just distinct enough from OG Lear that you can judge it as a book on its own but also as a lear retelling. and it's sooooo good. it starts a little slow, but the character work is so excellent and it almost made me cry (i will note that there's a pretty hefty cw on this one but... saying what it is is technically spoilers? but feel free to send another ask or message if you want to know up-front)

the last true poets of the sea by julia drake: books that made me have to turn my camera off in zoom class so i could bawl properly. books written for me specifically. this is a loose YA retelling of twelfth night (looser than some of the other retellings on this list) and it's like. perfect. the teenage dialogue actually sounds like teenagers. every emotional beat clubbed me over the head. the love triangle is present--and done really well; it's not present for drama but because sometimes being a teenager is confusing--but more than that this is a book about the relationship between violet and her sibling, and about mental health, and god it makes me CRAZY. also girls kiss in this one

rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead by tom stoppard: i mean. i think most people into shakespeare know r&gad. but in case you haven't read it yet, it's an absurdist play from the point of view of rosencrantz and guildenstern and it's absolutely fucking brilliant. not sure what else to say about this; you've really just gotta read it

teenage dick by mike lew: another play, this one on the modern side--a retelling of richard iii set in a high school, focusing explicitly on disability issues. kind of more a reimagining than a retelling, honestly, but i really like the exploration of r3's themes and also it's fucking hysterical. although i will say there's a kind of jarring tonal shift in this one near the end, so don't go to it for something 100% comedic

american moor by keith hamilton cobb: okay this isn't exactly a retelling but if you've ever read othello you have to read it. you just have to. please god if you've ever read a shakespeare PLEASE. it's a monologue from the perspective of a black man trying out for the role of othello, half-resigned to being pigeonholed into playing that specific role in a very specific way as directed by a white director, but also half-chafing against that resignation, and also exploring the complexities of loving shakespeare as a black man, and it's soooooo so good

exit, pursued by a bear by e.k. johnston: this one is kind of cheating because it's not really a retelling, in that it has next to nothing to do with the winter's tale except that there is a hermione character and a leontes character and a paulina character. i still think it's a very very well-done YA book, though, and one of the only ones i've read that deals head-on with abortion

foul is fair by hannah capin: okay, i will admit i read this one some years ago when i was more into YA, so i'm not sure i would still go crazy over it now, but the plot of this book is that the modern lady macbeth character gets assaulted by a guy at a party and decides to kill everyone who let that happen. and then she does. and idk i read it in two days it felt like being on crack

the wednesday wars by gary schmidt: this one is DEFINITELY cheating, because this isn't a retelling of anything. but if you like shakespeare and you're open to reading historical fiction about a kid in the 60s using shakespeare as a lens through which to understand the chaos of his life (from the vietnam war to his school crush)... it's so good. it made me nearly sob. beautiful book

i'm also a fan of ryan north's shakespeare choose-your-own-adventure books, but those aren't exactly retellings and also the humor will probably not work for everyone. but i like em <3

and finally, i would be remiss not to shout out the fact that @suits-of-woe wrote an INCREDIBLE retelling of the two gentlemen of verona that, like, redeemed the fact that that play exists. if you've read that play and you thought, "wow, i wish this were explicitly homoerotic, or not a rape apologia, or good in any way," you will LOVE macy's book. unfortunately it isn't fucking published yet but WITH YOUR HELP--

#max.txt #feel free to send me recs for shakespeare retellings at any time btw! #i've been collecting a list #i just haven't gotten around to most of the books on it yet #asks

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Sorry if that's already been asked but what do you think about the "King's word is the law" in hotd/dance discourse? I'm not sure where that even came from and for me there is 0 evidence that suggests it's true

Hi anon, excellent question! Sorry it took me so long to reply, this got a bit long! This is actually something that comes up a lot when I teach feudalism to my high school students. I've found that most people in general do not know the difference between feudalism and absolutism, and conceive of all kingship as a form of tyranny. And compared to most modern systems of government, of course feudalism and absolutism are both oppressive and restrictive, so the difference can feel a bit like splitting hairs. Neither system gives the the common people any real voice, but the difference is that feudalism is a system with a relatively weak monarchy that has to, both directly and indirectly, answer to both the church and to his vassals. But Westeros, even under the Targaryens, even with the dragons, is not, strictly peaking, an absolute monarchy but rather a feudal monarchy.

Broadly speaking, in a feudal system "the king's word is law" is only true insofar as the king can enforce that law, and to enforce his laws he needs the support of his vassals, the landholders who supply him with his armies and revenues. The feudal relationship between the king and his vassals looks roughly like this (this is the actual diagram we use in my world history curriculum):

Notice how the relationships are all reciprocal? The king might technically own all the land in the realm, but he has no standing army of his own. Knights pledge their service to the lords, rather than the king (he will have some knights in his personal service too, but not nearly enough to make war). It is in the king's best interest to keep his vassals happy. He needs them! They help him keep other unruly vassals in check, help defend against foreign invasion, and help him wage his own wars of expansion. They also provide the crown with revenue in the form of taxes, and their farmlands are what provide food for the people of the realm. In Westeros in particular, the royal family does not hold much land of its own (the land held by the royal family is called the royal demesne and the Targaryen royal demesne is very small compared to that of irl kings), so it's particularly dependent on the support of the vassalage. This makes it a relatively weak feudal monarchy, all things considered.

(also, notice the bishop up there with the lords? Usually, he would usually be appointed by the king with the approval of the pope, but the question of whether or not church officials were subjects of the king and subject to the king's laws was a huge point of contention hat caused many power struggles in medieval monarchies, and there was a whole separate court system, the ecclesiastical court, to deal with the crimes of court officials)

Anyway, a feudal king who just does whatever he wants without regard for his vassals will quickly find himself being named a tyrant, and the accusation of tyranny is a serious one in a feudal system, because vassals will rebel rather than serve a tyrant. Rebellions were not usually done with the goal of overthrowing the king completely, they were done in order to pressure the king into listening to their demands. We saw this happen with King John, whose barons were unhappy for a number of reasons including what they saw as avaricious economic policies, costly wars with France, increased royal interference in local administration of justice, and conflicts between the king and the church. Eventually, John's barons pressured him into signing the Magna Carta, a document that specifically limited the power of the king and stated outright that the king was not above the law and that the king could not impose new laws without the consent of the lords. John later repudiated this document, which led to further rebellions, and his son and heir Henry III had to reaffirm it after his death (and a series of rebellions still plagued Henry III). Eventually, this leads to a formalization of the idea that the king must not act without the consent of his lords and the creation of parliament.

Now, we never see a Westerosi Magna Carta or the creation of a set parliament, there is the small council and the occasional great council, and lords can and do object to the king's laws, force concessions, and remove kings. Notably, Robert's rebellion in the main series is an example of vassals losing faith in their king and eventually removing him. Aegon V cannot push his reforms through because he lacks the support of the lords, and in his desperation tries to bring back the dragons. But if we look back, even dragonriding Targaryens could not simply impose their will without the cooperation of the realm's lords. Aenys was considered weak and his rule was beset by rebellions, eventually coming to a head when he arranged an incestuous marriage for his heir, this after the Faith was already displeased with his brother's polygamous marriage. This led to Aenys being known as known as King Abomination and the Faith Militant uprising forced him to flee to Dragonstone. Maegor, who followed him, is ousted (and killed) as a tyrant for going further than that, suppressing the faith and committing kinslaying against his nephew. What makes Jaehaerys' rule notable and successful is that he's very good at appeasing the lords and when he is going to do something controversial, like the Doctrine of Exceptionalism or changing the succession, he campaigns and politicks for their support (I maintain that he knew Viserys being picked at the council was a forgone conclusion, but he did not want to unilaterally go against Andal custom without consulting his lords, it's a CYA move). This is something Viserys completely fails to do, not only failing to drum up support for his unconventional choice of heir, but actively alienating potential supporters.

It's worth keeping in mind that "law" means something different in this context than what many of us are used to today. Medieval law, and Westerosi law, was a hodgepodge of custom, statute, and precedent. Westeros, like England, operates on "common law." Successions are disputed all the time because competing claims exist. If Viserys named Mushroom heir, is his word law? What if he names Helaena? Jace? And in a normal situation, if it wasn't the succession of the throne in question the rival claimants would present their petitions, citing evidence and precedent, and the master of law, magistrate, or the king would make a ruling. The will of the lords is especially required to enforce an unconventional royal succession because succession takes place after the king is dead, and so if the succession is disputed, the claimants and the lords of the realm have to settle the dispute, nonviolently if possible, or else civil war will follow.

And you can get the lords behind an unconventional succession, but you have to have a good reason. "She's my favorite child from my favorite wife" is not actually good enough. For instance, when Robb chooses to legitimize Jon and disinherit Sansa in order to keep Winterfell out of Lannister hands, this is widely accepted among his vassals and allies because the reasoning is sound. Jon may be a bastard, but it would be worse for everyone to have Winterfell pass to a Lannister, even if it's shitty for Sansa. By the same logic, initially, Rhaenyra is accepted as heir because the lords do not want Daemon on the throne (the man she is now married to!). But after Aegon is born most assumed he would naturally become his father's heir. And remember, there's no reason for Alicent to marry Viserys if he cannot even ensure he inheritance of his own firstborn son. And Viserys never builds a case for Rhaenyra while he is alive, never tries to present Aegon as unworthy, he never has the lords come reaffirm their oaths, never writes a decree to formalize Westerosi succession. He doesn't take action because he knows he would not achieve anything near consensus (despite certain houses choosing Rhaenyra when it comes to war, it's doubtful they would have made the same choice if it had been a great council), so instead of dealing with the problem, he passes it on to his children.

I think it's fair to view the challenge to Rhaenyra's succession as an objection to what some see as tyranny on the part of the king. Viserys and Rhaenyra set themselves above the law in multiple ways-- not just jumping ahead of a son in the line of succession, but the way she has destabilized her own rule by placing bastards in her line of succession. What they are doing defies all precedent, and in a world where law is built in large part from precedent, this is not something the lords of the realm are obligated to accept.

#asks #the king's word is law #or is it #feudalism #anti team black #team green #anti viserys i targaryen

[lurkingshan]

Dead Friend Forever: Notes on the Finale

We made it! And I am... mostly, if not wholly, satisfied. That ending was both better than expected and still fell short in a few key places, and there are clear indicators of industry business interfering with the final choices (a common Thai bl problem these days).

The Good

The hallucination sequences were excellent, felt super well grounded in everything we know about these characters, and the way it connected to the real world consequences for each of them was excellent. Fluke stabbing his own eyes, Fluke and Top dying trying to fight each other while they denied their culpability to the end, Jin maiming his own hand, Phee reliving his promises to Non that he utterly failed to keep, and Tee stabbing White thinking he was Non all felt like very appropriate consequences. I am devastated that White died, but it's not an inappropriate consequence in this genre. He got involved with a bad dude and he paid for it.

New's final moments with the hallucination of Non were beautifully done. We've been building to this final breakdown for weeks, and he was too far gone to keep on living. I said last week he was already a dead man walking, and I felt that every moment in this episode. He tried his best to avenge his brother, and mostly succeeded despite Phee turning on him. Phee being the one to kill him in the end was also a good final sin for Phee and completed his descent and betrayal of the brothers over the last several weeks. I appreciated that his hallucination sequence was longer and more detailed than the rest; he had actual commitments to Non, so his betrayal was worse.

The Not So Good

A copout ending and too many loose ends. This episode was great right up until the moment they chose to air an ambiguous ending to protect a ship and attempt to please all fans. They wanted to have their cake (keep the show's main ship intact) and eat it, too (punish them as the narrative demanded). Rather than pick up the axe left on the ground last week and finish the story with Phee and Jin getting what was coming to them, they did an out of nowhere time skip, set up a happy ending for them, and then ended on an implication (but not a clear confirmation) that actually they did die back at the cabin and this last few minutes was another fantasy sequence.

This was frustrating for a few reasons: it broke the mood, tone, and rhythm of the ending, it denied the audience the catharsis of seeing Phee and Jin die, it gave a nod to a happy ending for them that didn't go at all with the narrative, and it wimped out on delivering a more definitive and fitting ending for them. Not to mention that this ending left us with no closure on Non's death, which happened offscreen, or the axe left on the ground and signaled to us as a clear threat in the penultimate episode, or who exactly was behind the mask at various moments. Even if they wanted to do this time jump and final twist, there were much better ways to do it, such as actually showing us Phee and Jin's bodies still in the woods. Leaving it this vague was a copout of a choice designed to appease fans, and it felt like one.

In The End

All that said, I read that ending as a confirmation that Phee and Jin are in fact dead back in the woods. Jin's maimed left hand was never shown in the jump forward, which would have been a crystal clear indicator that it was real. The whole tone of the sequence felt wrong and very discordant with everything that came before. And I simply can't accept that Phee would be allowed to murder New and still survive this story. It would be wrong, and the show clearly knows that, which is why they acknowledged it with that ending.

I enjoyed the experience of watching this show, and I thought the writing was truly excellent through the first nine episodes. The pacing issues and weirdness around the Phee and Jin material began in ep 10, and we can see why now that we know the ending. I wish the drama had stuck to the courage of its convictions and ended on a stronger note, but I am satisfied that most of the characters got what they deserved. It's been a pleasure clowning with you all.

#dead friend forever #dff the series #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

[super-paper]

Like I feel like 90% of my problems with 423 (Izuku) could have easily been fixed if Hori had actually stayed true to Izuku's character as someone driven by his empathy for others. Naturally I would have still been extremely upset with Tenko's death, yeah, but I think I would have at least been able to gradually process it and eventually accept it if Hori had actually depicted Izuku as like... actually reacting to the fact that he's killing Tenko and actually attempting to grapple with the weight of taking his life. Any reaction that might come after this chapter is simply too late to undo the damage.

Blood+ is an excellent example of a well done "I had no choice but to kill you" villain death: In this series, The hero (Saya) is ultimately forced to fight and kill her villain (Diva), but the core of her character-- her kindness-- is never sacrificed. It's enhanced by the tragedy of it all, of her being forced to end a life when she sincerely didn't want to. Even though Diva did terrible and unforgivable things, the first thing Saya does when she sees her crumbling is to rush forward and comfort her despite her own injuries, and to express intense anguish over not being able to help her. This cements why Saya is the hero of this story. I haven't watched Blood+ in over ten years, but the final moment between these two is something that has stuck with me all this time-- this is how you write a powerful ending between your kind/empathetic MC and the villain they were ultimately forced to kill.

Comparatively, everything about Izuku and Tenko's resolution feels completely numb. Izuku's lackluster nonreaction to everything he learned about Tenko in the vestige world. His complete lack of distress when Tenko's abuser swallowed him up and took over his body again. Him not expressing any concern for Tenko's safety once AFO resurfaced. Him continuing to beat on Tenko's body as it crumbled without any internal conflict or hesitation.

All of it sacrifices the very foundation of Izuku's character-- him being moved to act out of EMPATHY for others, not out of a desire to simply "beat the villain". The climax of Izuku's long awaited "rising" chapter is ultimately about him punching someone rather than saving someone, which also betrays the core of his character (yes, it's also about how he inspires others by doing his best but can you honestly say him rushing forward to punch TomurAFO to death was "doing his best as a hero". What was supposed to be the cumulation of Izuku's arc ends up being completely surface level/lacking sincerity and instead reads like Hori is just going through the motions).

The boy from chapter 1 whose body moved on its own after seeing someone in pain was ultimately more heroic than the boy from chapter 423, and that's one of the many reasons why people should be upset with this chapter and what it's done to Izuku's character/arc.

#among the multitude of other bad things about it #mha spoilers #negativity/ #sophie.txt #tenko dying still absolutely wrecks the series themes even in a parallel world where Izuku did have an actual reaction 2 having to kill him #mha 423 #shimura tenko #shigaraki tomura