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genshinluvr · 1 year

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Golden Hour

Pairings: Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: It's Zhongli's birthday, and you take him out to Liyue Harbor to celebrate it! You wake up before the golden hour to bake him a cupcake for his birthday, and you get your guts rearranged by Zhongli during the golden hour while the sun is setting. What a way to celebrate the former Geo archon's birthday.

Note: Because I am biased, I have decided to make Zhongli a birthday mini-fic that contains short smut at the end of the story. It's definitely not my best smut for sure because I am typing this at two in the morning with a forming headache 💀 Just a reminder that any [character] x isekai'd!Reader mini-fic is part of my ongoing Isekai'd!reader series and is usually around 5k words or less. These mini-fics are made so each man in the harem gets their own screen time with the reader; sometimes, some men will make an appearance, but not all the time. Every single one of my smuts, the reader is either a female!reader or an AFAB!reader, so please keep that in mind for future fics/smuts. Minors, DO NOT INTERACT! As usual, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo). Only registered users on AO3 will be able to view all of my published works (idk when it will be unlocked for everyone, I hope very soon).

Warnings: Horribly written smut towards the end of the story, marking, biting, Zhongli's got a dragon-sized cock. Are we surprised?

Word Count: 2.8k

It is six fifty-eight o’clock in the morning. Usually, around that time in the morning, you would still be in bed, fast asleep until around nine o’clock. But today is different, and here you are in the kitchen, wearing your pajamas with fluffy slippers. You’re steeping tea, and the window in the kitchen gives a nice view of the backyard of the estate. The sun slowly rising makes the abode shine gold; it’s the golden hour, the time you would miss while sleeping and during the late afternoon because you’re holed up in your house with the blinds closed.

*DING*

You jump and place your hand over your chest, feeling your heart racing against your ribcage. You turn to the small cupcake sitting on the cooling rack. You hover your hand above the cupcake to ensure it’s warm and not hot. You grab the cupcake and begin to decorate it with frosting. After decorating the cupcake, you grab a tiny candle and stick it halfway into the cupcake. You search around for a match to light the candle.

After successfully lighting up the candle, you turn to the steeping tea and take the teabag out from the ceramic teacup. You toss the teabag into the trash bin and turn around to grab the teacup and cupcake before walking towards the entrance of the kitchen. You stop in your tracks when you see the door open and the person stepping into the kitchen.

Zhongli looks at you, surprised, and his eyes quickly land on the teacup and cupcake in your hands. While Zhongli is staring at the cupcake intently, you’re staring at him like a fish out of water with your mouth agape while trying to come up with something to say.

“You’re up early,” Zhongli says, looking over at the clock above the kitchen window. “You’ve never been up this early before unless it’s for school.” he raises his eyebrows at you.

You smile at him sheepishly. “Well, I am awake early today because it’s a special day,” you said.

You watch Zhongli approach you, closing the distance between you two and standing before you. No matter how tall you are, Zhongli always towers over you. He looks down at you and then at the items in your hands.

Zhongli strokes his chin. “A special day, you say?” Zhongli asks, gazing down at you curiously.

You nod and smile up at him. “It’s your birthday, Zhongli! Did you forget?” You ask.

“How does one forget an important day?” He smiles back at you, brushes your hair away from your face, and tucks them behind your ears. “Is that for me?” Zhongli asks, pointing down at the cupcake and teacup in your hands.

“Yes! They are for you! I got up early in the morning to bake some cupcakes for your birthday and decided to steep some tea for you before you woke up,” you said, placing the teacup down on the counter beside you.

Holding the cupcake up between you and Zhongli, you clear your throat awkwardly. How in the world are you going to do this without screwing up? You take a deep breath and begin singing happy birthday to Zhongli in Liyuen. You spent a few weeks (maybe almost a month) learning Liyuen just to be able to sing happy birthday to him with the help of Yunjin and Ningguang.

After finishing the song, you hand Zhongli the cupcake and watch him lift it to his face. Zhongli stares at the cupcake and then looks at you; the flickering flames of the candle make his amber eyes illuminate. Zhongli has always been a handsome man; whenever he looks at you, you feel breathless.

“When did you learn how to sing in Liyuen?” Zhongli asks.

You feel your face heat up and rub the back of your neck. “For a few weeks now, perhaps almost a month. Yunjin and Ningguang helped me learn, and who knew they’re such strict teachers,” you chuckle.

Zhongli smiles and caresses your cheek with his right hand while holding onto the cupcake with his other hand. “You did well,” Zhongli murmurs, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You place your hand over Zhongli’s right hand. “Make a wish,” you whisper, smiling up at Zhongli.

Zhongli pulls his hand away from your face and clutches the cupcake with both hands. Zhongli then closes his eyes for a moment, and you watch him make a wish with anticipation. You wonder what Zhongli’s wish is about. Whatever Zhongli's wish is about, you hope that it’ll come true for him. Zhongli opens his eyes and blows out the candle. You cheer softly and clap your hands.

“I hope your schedule is clear today because I am going to be taking you out for your birthday! Just you and me!” You said.

“Oh? Is this a birthday treat for me?” Zhongli asks, taking the candle out from the cupcake and placing it on the counter before taking a small bite.

“That’s correct! You can continue eating the cupcake and drink up your tea. I will be changing my clothes and getting ready for the day!” You said.

You stand on your tippy toes and press a kiss on Zhongli’s jaws before walking out of the kitchen. After about ten minutes of changing your clothes, brushing your teeth, combing your hair, and putting on deodorant, you finally leave your bedroom and descend the stairs. Zhongli’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees you wearing traditional Liyuen clothes. Heat rushes to Zhongli’s cheeks as you walk closer to Zhongli and stop in front of him.

“Ready to go?” You ask, grabbing onto Zhongli’s hands and squeezing them lightly.

Zhongli smiles and nods his head, clearing his throat to make sure he doesn’t stumble over his words. “Lead the way, dearest,” Zhongli says.

You hold Zhongli’s hands and exit the estate with Zhongli by your side. The first place you decide to take Zhongli is Third-Round Knockout for breakfast. The both of you listen to Iron Tongue Tian tell a story about Ningguang while you and Zhongli ate delicious Liyuen dishes. You turn to look at Zhongli and notice sauce at the corner of his lips. You stifle your giggle and reach for the cloth napkin and pat his arm lightly.

Zhongli turns to look at you, and you wipe the corner of his lips with the cloth napkin. Zhongli’s eyes widen slightly, his cheeks turning bright red. Zhongli clears his throat and smiles at you shyly while you laugh under your breath and rest your head on his shoulders, squeezing his biceps lightly. How can a god be as cute as he is?

While listening to Iron Tongue Tian continue his story about Ningguang, you look up at Zhongli and make eye contact with the former Geo archon. Now it’s your turn to feel shy; you sit up and quickly look away, face almost as hot as the sun beaming down on the two of you. You reach for the teacup and take a sip nervously, feeling your hands tremble. Zhongli chuckles and wipes the tiny droplet of tea from the corner of your lips.

After breakfast at Third-Round Knockout, you and Zhongli take a stroll at Liyue Harbor while Zhongli tells you stories about his archon days. You walk beside Zhongli with your arm linked around his, your left side pressing against his right side. You two end up stopping in front of Jade Mystery after a certain gem catches Zhongli’s attention, making him stop his story short.

“You’re not going to be spending mora, are you?” You ask, looking up at your beloved boyfriend with your eyes narrowing.

Zhongli continues to look at the jade laid out on the yellow, blue, white and red cloths. “I am not spending any mora; I am just getting a closer look at the jades on the table,” Zhongli says. You can see the bottom of his lip slightly jutting out cutely.

You prop your hands on your hips and give Zhongli a skeptical look. “Oh? Is that so, my love?” You ask, pressing your lips into thin lines while staring at him suspiciously.

“That is correct,” Zhongli nods his head.

He walks up to Shitou and begins conversing with the boss of Jade Mystery while you stand in front of the table and look at every slab of jade. You stroke your chin and drown out the sounds of Zhongli and Shitou’s conversation about jade.

“Wonderful! That will be one thousand mora for the Noctilucous Jade!” You hear Shitou exclaim happily.

Your eyes widen, and you turn to look at Zhongli and Shitou, only to see Shitou talking to another customer. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion before turning to search for Zhongli. You nearly bump into his chest when you turn to the left; you look up at Zhongli and sigh in relief, letting yourself lean against his chest.

“What, did you think I was the customer?” Zhongli teases you while pinching your cheeks.

You nod your head. “Yes,” you breathe. “But I’m glad that you’re not the one that’s spending a thousand mora on Noctilucous Jade,” you said.

You didn’t want Zhongli to spend a single mora on his birthday because, well, you’re the one that’s spoiling him for his birthday! For lunch, you and Zhongli stop by Liuli Pavilion. As usual, the food is divine, and you and Zhongli have idle chats while eating lunch and sipping teas.

“This is spicy,” you mutter, poking the dish in front of you.

Your lips feel like they’re on fire, but you can’t stop eating them because they’re so delicious. Zhongli looks at you worriedly; his eyes zeroed in on your lips in particular. You sniffle and wipe your nose on a napkin, fanning yourself with your hand.

“Your lips are swollen, dearest,” Zhongli frowns, placing his chopsticks down on the ceramic plate before gesturing for the host to come over to the table. “If you’d like, I can ask the host to grab you a cup of cold water,” Zhongli offers.

You nod. “Yes, please,” you said.

The host gives you a cup of cold water, and you almost immediately down the water once the host places the cup in front of you. When the cold water touches the inside of your burning mouth, you nearly sob from relief. You set the now empty cup down on the table and lean back in your seat, sighing in relief.

“I think it's best for you to stop eating the spicy dishes,” Zhongli says, pushing the plate away from you. “Mayhaps you would like to try out the dumplings instead?” Zhongli suggests, grabbing a chunky dumpling from the container and placing it on yours.

“Yeah, I’ll try out the dumplings,” you breathed.

You’re about to grab the dumpling with your chopsticks when the sun shines through the windows, catching your eyes. You pause and look up, only to notice that the sun is beginning to set already. Wait, what? You look up at the clock, eyes wide. How long have you and Zhongli been eating at Liuli Pavilion?

“How long have we been here for? I could’ve sworn we had just arrived at Liuli Pavilion not too long ago,” you said, looking over at Zhongli.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we did have a few rounds of food,” Zhongli gestures to the table.

On the table are a bunch of empty plates and bowls stacked on top of each other. In front of you and Zhongli are new main dishes and side dishes waiting to be eaten. You jolt back and blink, looking at the table and at Zhongli with an incredulous look on your face. Zhongli chuckles and sips from the ceramic teacup.

“Wow, time went by so fast, I didn’t even notice,” you said, shoving an entire dumpling into your mouth and beginning to chew on the delicious dumpling.

Zhongli sighs and gives you an endearing smile. “Dearest, please don’t stuff an entire dumpling into your mouth. You’re going to choke,” Zhongli chides.

It took you a while to chew and swallow the entire dumpling in your mouth. Once you consume the dumpling, you reach for your warm teacup. “Zhongli, honey, that’s not the only thing I’ll be choking on tonight,” you said calmly while sipping your tea.

Zhongli gives you a questioning look. “Pardon?” Zhongli asks.

You shake your head. “Nothing, forget what I said,” you wave off Zhongli’s question.

After wrapping up your and Zhongli’s lunch (and dinner because, apparently, the two of you had more than three rounds of food at Liuli Pavilion), the two of you leave the restaurant, and the sun is now starting to set. It’s the golden hour. You and Zhongli lean against the wooden railing at the Harbor, staring out to the waters.

“I’m not sure if we have time to go back to the abode. Would you be okay with spending the night in Liyue?” Zhongli asks, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You lean your head on Zhongli’s chest and nod your head. “Of course I am! As long as I’m with you, I’m content,” you said softly.

Zhongli kisses the side of your head and leads you to the nearest hotel in Liyue Harbor. Once the two of you get your room number, the key to your hotel room, and some privacy, everything becomes a blur for you two. The last thing you remembered was Zhongli pinning you against the door, marking up your neck with love bites.

“Oh, fuck! Zhongli!” You whine, clawing at his back as he plunges his cock into your sopping wet heat.

Zhongli buries his face into your neck and growls, his nails digging into your waist. Zhongli tangles his fingers into your hair and tilts your face up. You look up at Zhongli and press your lips against his. Zhongli ravages your lips hungrily, his canines nipping at your lips, your teeth clashing with his.

Zhongli grinds and ruts his cock in and out of your entrance, grabbing and squeezing your chest. Your legs tremble around Zhongli’s waist; Zhongli sucks on your tongue and presses his body up against yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. You let out a choked gasp in Zhongli’s mouth, pulling away from the man above you.

“Zhongli, I don’t think I can last any longer,” You whine, clenching your jaws as you near your end.

Zhongli chuckles. “Already? But we’re just getting started, dearest,” Zhongli purrs. He continues to hammer his thick, long cock in and out of your tight hole.

“Just getting started?! It’s the evening!” You panted, digging your nails into Zhongli’s biceps.

Zhongli stops and looks out the window, the golden sunshine illuminating the bedroom and your naked body. Zhongli leans down and latches his lips onto one of your erect nipples, sucking and lapping at it.

“Dearest, the sun has yet to set. It’s still the golden hour,” Zhongli chuckles; he continues to lap at your erect nipples, making you shiver below him.

You stare up at the man above you and look between the cracks of the curtains. Zhongli is indeed correct. Between the time you and Zhongli checked into a hotel and now, only an hour has gone by. You look up at Zhongli with your mouth agape.

Zhongli lets out a laugh and slams his dick deeper into you, burying his cock as deep as he can. You wailed and writhed beneath Zhongli, your legs flailing the deeper he buried his cock inside of you. Zhongli growls and buries his face between your neck and shoulders, biting down on your neck hard.

“Ow! Zhongli!” You squeal, clawing Zhongli’s back, leaving a trail of angry red marks on his back. Zhongli presses the bulbous tip of his cock against your cervix, feeling your walls pulsing around his cock each time he thrusts into you. Zhongli pulls away from your neck and licks up your blood, his amber eyes glowing and horns sprouting from his head. You notice Zhongli’s arms have also changed. From his mid-shoulders to his fingertips, there is an ombre of black leading to gold. You lift Zhongli’s arms to your face and stare at them in awe.

“They’re glowing,” you whisper, unaware of the glowing symbol on your lower abdomen close to your right hipbone.

Zhongli wraps his arms around your waist, pistoning his cock repeatedly. You bury your face into Zhongli’s chest, a string of soft whimpers and moans coming from your mouth each time you feel Zhongli slide into you. You rock your hips against Zhongli’s hips, rubbing your aching, swollen nub against his pubic bone, sending shockwaves of pleasure down your spine.

“Oh, fuck,” you let out a shaky whisper, feeling a knot beginning to form in your lower stomach. You tap on Zhongli’s arms weakly. “Zhongli, I don’t think I can last any longer,” you gasp, melting in Zhongli’s arms.

Zhongli tilts your head to the side and starts leaving hickeys behind on your neck, shoulders, and collarbone. “We have all night, dearest,” Zhongli whispers. Zhongli nibbles on your earlobe and squeezes the globes of your ass, burying his cock inside of you. “After all, it’s only the golden hour. We have plenty of time,” Zhongli purrs into your ears.

Note: Definitely not my best smut for sure. I really hope that my future Zhongli smut will be better because I do have a Zhongli smut idea in mind since early April of 2022, but I never got the chance to type it out because I kept changing the idea 🥲 Maybe it'll be published sometime in 2023; not entirely sure when, but hopefully soon. I have a new taglist! It's more specific this time compared to last time (kind of). If you want to be in the new taglist for certain fanfics, click the link [here]. Please make sure to allow people to tag you in posts, or else you won't get notifications if I do tag you in future fanfics. Anyway, for those who are new here or are returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my mini-fics/all of my fanfics: @kazuhamuse, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kwelibeeery, @yumakj, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @living-my-best-life5, (if you're not notified when tagged, please make sure to allow people to tag you in posts, or else you won't receive notification on being tagged in fanfics 🥲 and please check if the spelling is correct, along with symbols and numbers)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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awhimproned · 8 months

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you don't understand guillermo and his arc

have i got your attention?

hello, my name is nia, and welcome to me opening a blog solely for the sake of yelling into the void my analysis/meta of the haha hehe silly vampire show.

Small introduction/index right before beginning:

Spoilers for s5 finale!

Re-framing of what wwdits is really about and setting the record straight as what to expect and what not to be angry about.

Discussing how Guillermo's arc of letting go of his vampirism isn't, in fact, a let down or a missed opportunity and quite the opposite, is in character for him, in line with his character arc, and wasn't "all for nothing".

Long ass post (not exaggerating), so click "read more" and buckle up. Here we go.

I have to start this by reiterating that first and foremost, this is a batshit insane comedy show with batshit insane, morally bankrupt (yet endearing) and complex characters. It's not interested in telling a story or a plot, it's not interested in being pretentiously deep, and I say that for the people who can't really come to terms with the format and that the show is going nowhere, because it's not supposed to be going anywhere, it's just the daily lives of vampires and their little adventures and sometimes struggles. In a weird way, it's slice of life.

This show isn't like Good Omens or Our Flag Means Death in which you're concerned with an overarching plot. Even season 4 and 5 seem to look like it has an overarching plot, the term you're looking for is contained theme of the season. It's like "villain of the week" format. Only for the seasons. S1 we had the baron, s2 we had vampire slayer guillermo, s3 we had the vampire council, s4 we had nadja's night club, s5 we had vampire guillermo -- and these are just very broad summaries.

There ISNT an overarching plot, it's the character arcs that are starting to pick up, which guillermo's is the strongest and most reoccurring.

It's episodic even when there's a theme and plot of a season, and it's meant to be bite-sized and contained and followable. Someone who doesn't know this show can watch one episode from season one and one from season three and it wouldn't be that jarring depending on the episodes, like, the cast were able to answer "what episodes would you recommend to someone who hasn't watched the show" on the tumblr live ask.

The writers and the producers of wwdits are concerned with making you laugh, exploring how insane and unexpected places they can take things with a cast of vampires of the past who haven't quite adapted to the modern times and are devoid of common sense and knowledge most of the time in a mockumentary style. Yes, you know this already, I know, it looks like I'm being patronizing or condescending.

But do you know, really? I'm talking to a certain demographic, so please don't take this personally.

What most of these people consider dropping the show over, like the reasons "nothing changes" or "things go back to the usual and it's getting old" or "they throw ideas away" or "serious stuff gets brushed over so quickly" don't consider that these are often done on purpose.

Half because of the format and that the documentary crew can't be there all the time to capture every little thing and character moments you are naturally given in a normal TV show/movie, and half because it's one of the core themes of the show, that nothing ever really changes and these are centuries old vampires who are so closed off to change. That's the thing. That's what it's all about and that's where all the jokes are stemming from.

In a normal comedy show, you might perhaps see the characters being unhinged together, but you would also get to see their most private and vulnerable moments, (like maybe brooklynn 99), and you take that as granted, it's sometimes spoon-fed through cinematography and what's purposefully caught in camera per director and writer choices.

wwdits follows a very clear show-don't-tell narrative of characters putting on a front for the cameras, and you have to read between the lines more often than not to figure out these unreliable narrators, otherwise you might miss some things and take it at face value.

one example of this in my opinion is the relation between laszlo, baby colin robinson, the bastard children he doesn't like to talk about and the baby he turned into a vampire. the latter is very much played as a joke, the bastards are throw away line by nadja, but when you take baby colin into the picture and how happy it made laszlo to be a father (no matter how questionable), how (questionably) amazing he was at it, and how losing baby colin robinson downright made him grieve and mourn (like. he abandoned nadja to look after this child), you get a clearer picture as to why laszlo might have made a baby into a vampire and why he doesn't like to talk about the children he's fathered. maybe it's because he wanted to be a parent at one point, maybe with a vampire baby he could have a child who wouldn't die. it seems deeper than it was at first glance, the complexity is hidden beneath the layers of vampires being funny assholes.

other times you have to not overthink it and learn to accept some things are purely for shits and giggles. no matter how many levels of fucked up they are on. it's literally no use discussing the morality or how wrong things are. and on a framework such as this, the running gag being characters being left somewhere when their plot-relevance is over (benjy, jim the vampire, derek, the hybrid creatures etc.) shouldn't come off as surprising or lazy writing. because that's it, that's the joke.

This isn't to say this is a get out of the jail free card for not having progression or development.

I'm just saying that the vampires getting into shenanigans and everything being okay in the end despite all the drama is the status quo, and if you're going to have a problem with "sunrise sunset" and are so impatient with the theme of change being explored at a slow pace, then this show is not for you.

You are perfectly welcome to be frustrated with everything resetting, but you also have to know this is what you signed up for. The show is both trying to tell you something using this storytelling device to navigate the inherent cycle of stagnated repetition of the vampires' lives AND showing you that things ARE changing at the end of every season, bit by bit.

It's entirely on you that you don't notice and/or care it wasn't in the way you wanted it to be.

Like what they did with Guillermo.

The consensus of the arguments I've seen on this site consist of:

they finally made him a vampire and took it away from him and it was for nothing

it wasn't explored enough and well-enough

it breaks canon for him to be so squeamish about killing when he's been committing atrocities the whole show and it's a lazy reason to turn him back

nothing came of it. it ruins his character

he should have stayed a vampire it's what he wanted and deserved all along

it doesn't make sense with the narrative, they are writing him so differently now like he suddenly doesnt want to be a vampire? his character arc peaked in s3

First question: have we been watching the same show?

I'm going to walk you through this step by step for analysis sake, bear with me.

Who is Guillermo de la Cruz at the beginning of the show?

He is a fucking loser.

He is a pushover, has no confidence, deep down he's become so twisted from all the resentment and spite built up from being so overlooked, underappreciated and being cast aside. He has no life, he pays to live there as a familiar, his entire life is dedicated to Nandor, he's so tiny, has no presence.

And we establish his main motivation and want: to become a vampire.

But why does he want to be a vampire? Antonio Banderas in Interview with a Vampire. This apparently "inspired Guillermo because he had never seen another Hispanic person onscreen as a vampire". Yes, he projected and self-inserted to Armand, yes we know.

When you look closer, you'll pretty soon understands he craves the power he'll receive once he becomes a vampire. He'll become cooler, "sexier" (like he says that he doesn't feel any sexier when he became a vampire), nobody can look down on him, he can finally be someone, leave the old, pitiful Guillermo behind, it's all he's betting on. He doesn't want to grapple with his problems, the sexuality he represses, the Catholic guilt; he wholeheartedly assumes he'll just be a new person once he becomes a vampire, and for that, he'll do anything. He doesn't want to be a vampire, he wants to be a new, burden-free, hot-girl-eternal summer Guillermo who will demand respect just by existing.

Vampirism is the get out of the jail free card for him. The easy way out of his flaws and insecurities.

There's something called character's want vs. need in writing. What a character wants may not always be what they need. This is perfectly portrayed with Guillermo. Becoming a vampire isn't necessarily what he needs.

What he needs is making peace with himself, growing, acceptance, love, establishing confidence, finding his power -- self-growth.

the problem is he thinks vampirism will automatically give these to him. it couldn't be farther from the truth. this is a typical case of thinking the grass is greener on the other side.

So, naturally, discovering he's a vampire slayer is ruining everything for Guillermo, setting him up against the vampires whom he's trying to be a part of, to be accepted and loved by. It's threatening his found family.

Even though it's the most competent, confident, sexiest, and in element he's ever been in his life. It's what he's best at, when he's doubting himself the least, when he shines the most, the abilities come to him from within.

And he can't allow himself to embrace it. He still thinks vampirism will give him what being a Van Helsing is already giving him. He's gaining his footing, sticking it to the vamps who don't appreciate him where they deserve it, standing up for himself, being sassy and cunty, opening up, GROWING.

Yet he doesn't see it.

He believes he'll be whole once he becomes a vampire. You see him benefit so much from the van helsing genes but not once does he embrace it or actually celebrate his identity, embrace himself and who he is when it's what made him bloom in the first place. HE DOESN'T SEE IT.

He wants to renounce being a vampire slayer. He says it in season 5 to the baron. He full on wants to give up what makes him, him.

Hell, the symbolism of being a vampire slayer getting in the way of his transformation by fighting off the vampirism is so ironic and symbolic at the same time:

He can't find his true self and what his heart truly wants and needs if he doesn't give up the idea of being a fucking vampire. His true self has been within all along.

Guillermo's arc didn't peak in s3, it wasn't even close to being completed, because he hasn't found himself yet, he hasn't accepted himself yet. He hates being a vampire slayer deep down for setting him against the vampires and what he wants to become. Yes, he went through tremendous growth. He was powerful, he gained agency. But it was because THE POWERS VAN HELSING DNA GAVE HIM ON A SILVER PLATE. It wasn't that he accepted it. It wasn't that he found a sense of self in it.

He just got a preview of what he could become, is all. It made him think he was ready to become a vampire. He would never choose to stay a human/vampire slayer before the events of s5, it's always been about the endgame for him.

And it's so sad because Nandor is like. So stoked about vampire slayer Guillermo. He's so proud and giddy about him "being a warrior" because he knows Guillermo better than anyone and just when and how he's at his best. It's just that Guillermo doesn't see it and Nandor does. Just like how he knows Guillermo wasn't ready to become a vampire and how hard he would really take to actually killing people.

In retrospective, season 5 was about things we want not really being the things we thing we want.

They show that guillermo has gained the things he's wanted -- the love and friendship of the vampires and them deeply caring for him, thinking of him as family just in the way he thinks of them as, their respect, and he didn't need to be a vampire to get that. He already has the power he craves deep down.

He doesn't see it. He's not aware of any of it, he's so laser-focused to what he wants that he hasn't figured out how to handle the ugly side of vampirism, he hasn't even thought of it -- because he doesn't see any bad in being a vampire. He's so enticed by the power, the promise of sexiness and transformation and so blissfully ignorant by what he has to do to survive from being on clockwork in doing the dirty work for the vamps.

And precisely because of that hey show that guillermo wasn't ready to be a vampire -- yet. Because how can he be ready when he hasn't even figured himself out yet? When it's painfully obvious what he really wants isnt being a vampire but something he desires on a more emotional needs level?

And the most glaring point of this is how brutal and bloody his transformation was. It wasn't how he imagined or wanted it to be. He just wanted to be a vampire, and right off the bat everything went wrong.

He wanted it to be Nandor. He wanted it to be earned. He wanted it to be poetic, sexy and climactic.

Instead it was miserable and horrifying, the biggest shame to a vampire, and he had to keep it a secret to save his own life and nandor's -- hell, he wasn't even a full vampire, nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. When everything was supposed to change. (Catch the theme?)

And the thing he's happy about? The itty bitty powers he slowly starts to gain. Nothing else about vampirism is doing it for him. The raw meat craving, for one. He even cringes when he's drinking the blood Nandor gives him.

He only really wants the powers. He even goes on a little power trip when he fully turns. He's on a brief high until it comes to feeding.

And then the reality fully sinks in.

Guillermo has to come to terms with having to harm people if he wants to be a vampire. It's not the same as leading people to their deaths, he can't take the moral high ground by making the excuse he's not the one doing the killing or anything, vampires have their victims and he just handles the aftermath. Hypocritical? You bet your ass it is. Guillermo is considerate and horrible at the same time. That's what being complex is about.

Sure, there are ways such as not fully draining and just drinking his fill, but he isn't ready for tackling those topics yet. Vampirism was about becoming a new person for him up until that point, not having to drink blood to survive.

And figuring out that no, if he's given the choice, he wants to stay human has to be more devastating and earth-shattering for him.

Because everything he's worked for in the past 14 years, now, is up in the air for Guillermo. What does this mean for him, when will he go from there, is he still going to be a familiar, can he still stay with the vamps?

What does being a vampire mean to him now that his entire sense of self and future he'd built upon it is gone?

Here's what Yana Groskaya has to say about it:

This is one of the core themes of season 6.

In a sense, they've taken Guillermo's one and only hyperfixation away that was limiting his character. They've opened him up to new explorations.

He has to consider what being a van helsing could mean to him now that he can fully face his real self and there isn't a time limit to brush it under the rug so he can fully focus on becoming a vampire.

He has to face himself, learn about himself, go out more, discover himself better.

This also in a way is a direct parallel to Nandor in Season 3, and it's an interesting thing that it was Nandor who helped Guillermo to realize what he really wanted.

This wasn't "all for nothing" - it was a major beat in Guillermo's arc. To face what he naively and childishly wanted to "fix" himself had to be considered more seriously:

Nandor going "This is what I was waiting for" when Guillermo beat him in their fight in season 3 means SO MUCH MORE in this context.

Guillermo, in his BEST, having all the power, going all in on Nandor, seemed ready, as a slayer, he didn't hesitate to fight, harm, or throw hands, he could handle vampires and vampirism, and Nandor saw him fit. THIS was what he was waiting for. "You are alive because I let you live" and full on proving that statement. That he wasn't afraid to kill. For Guillermo to be ready in his soul, and it was his vampire slayer identity readied him. He had it in him all this time.

But in season 5, he has renounced it. He SAYS he has renounced it to be a vampire.

He has to embrace that part of himself to be truly ready.

Him becoming a vampire at this point in his life was so wrong on so many levels, they showed that Nandor would know when it was the right moment and he would do so right by Guillermo, and showed that really, what you think you want isn't actually what you want/need.

So no, this was bound to happen eventually, and an entire season dedicated to it was amazing in my opinion. Amazing things are coming for Guillermo, please don't be discouraged.

Thank you for reading this far.

I also want to write a Nandermo analysis at one point because I'm more passionate than ever and so excited (i loved what this season did with them), but we shall see!

#guillermo de la cruz #wwdits meta #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #wwdits season 5 #wwdits spoilers #nandermo #wwdits s5

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queenofhearts7378 · 9 months

Note

Hi there! Any new SQ content? Been down a rabbit hole of then again haha and I always love your work!

I wrote this just for you because it's been ages since I wrote these boys and turns out I have really missed it.

(Do not ask me anything about Miraculous, I have not watched it since season mid-season 3 and have no plans to. I get all my info from tumblr memes and a single person in the SQ discord who doesn't mind giving loose spark notes.)

.....

"So that's what's been up with me lately, how about you guys?"

Adrien gave a bright grin.

The other three boys stared at him in concern and confused horror for a few moments.

"Dude." Randy said empathetically.

Adrien let his head thunk on the table, "I know."

"And I thought my thing was a lot." Danny said, mostly to himself.

Jake leaned towards him, "Yeah, I actually got to talk to you about your thing. Cause it's starting to affect my whole deal."

Danny waved him off, "Later, we're helping Adrien deal with his mental breakdown right now."

"I'm not having a mental breakdown," Adrien mumbled into the wood.

"Buttercup, I think you need to have one." Randy said.

Adrien tilted to the side until he was laying more on Randy than the table, "I don't want to talk about my thing anymore. Let's talk about Danny and Jake's thing."

Jake threw his hands in the air, "It's Danny’s thing that's affecting me!"

"Look it's not the first time all of reality had to get rewritten so that everybody would forget my secret so I don't know why it's affecting you this time."

Now Jake looked like the one who should be having a mental breakdown. "I was talking about your self-appointed Title!"

"My what?"

"You heard the capitals in that too, right?" Randy whispered to Adrien, who just nodded his head.

"What do you mean reality got rewritten?! Danny did you BREAK REALITY?!?!?!"

"No! Vlad did! I fixed it! Can we go back to the titles thing cause that sounded kinda important. Like proper capitalization important."

"Danny I swear on my ancestors-"

"So like chapter titles or movie titles?" Randy asked.

Jake turned to stare at him incredulously and Randy could feel Adrien shaking from giggling.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times in response, before waving his hands in front of him like he was trying to ward off all of Randy's General personality. "Randy please, I can't deal with you and Danny at the same time."

"Hey!" Danny said in offense. Randy just nodded in understanding.

Jake groaned into his hands for a moment, before straightening up and pointing at Danny. "Phantom has been officially Titled as the Liminal Bridge. No one knows how that happened and are miffed about it. And now I have a bunch of restless spirits that keep bothering me because they somehow figured out I actually know you and they don't know how to reach you."

Danny looked confused, "No one has ever called me that. Why are you saying it like it's a big deal?"

"Because it is a big deal." Jake stressed. "In the magical community, things like that are big deals. I don't just call myself the American Dragon for fun. It's an official Title. And it comes with responsibilities only I can do, problems that only I have the authority to solve. These aren't things you can just give yourself either. It's usually done by someone with higher authority over you, it's passed down from previous holders, some very old and powerful mythical beings can bestow one on you, and sometimes the right magical artifact can if it's sentient and impressed enough. You can't just call yourself a bridge and be like "That's a thing that everybody has to call me now!"."

Danny was looking at him wide-eyed, "I uh….I mean that's kinda what happened?"

Jake's head hit the table with a 'thunk'.

"Man I've just been fighting McFist bots this entire time, y’all’s lives are wonk." "Thanks Randy." The other three chorused.

#i've missed these goobers #secret quartet #danny phantom #randy cunnigham #adrien agreste #jake long #danny fenton #rc9gn #miraculous ladybug #american dragon jake long #queen will write #ask thy queen #no but like....i've really missed them #this just made my day thank you so much

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spreadyovrwings · 1 year

Text

My Love, My Life

it’s been about a year since i deleted the tim blog (if any of you remember that) and sometimes i miss the little fandom that got me through a pandemic and an awful time in my personal life, but just as i was starting to regress haha my girl informs me that she saved one fic before i deleted the blog, so, here it is, reposted.

i doubt i’ll ever write about him again but i do think some instance of tim should stay up on tumblr. i’m very proud of the weird little guy we made and so here he is again as a reminder of good times and good friends.

It hadn’t stopped raining all day. It was there before he first opened his eyes that morning. It was there on his walk to work. It was there when he locked himself away in his office, during the weekly meeting, while he was trying to work. It even followed him home.

Now, it was dark outside and water still struck the windows of his little apartment. Tim watched it reproachfully. Rain was supposed to bring life, to wash away all that had gone before. To him, it was just unsettling, cruel and cold.

He usually felt safe here, in the little home he’d built for himself. He could usually just curl up under a blanket and block out the noise as he waited for sleep to claim him. But this was different.

Tim had spent all day trying to figure out why, why the cold anxiety in his chest felt even worse than usual, why it felt like there was a rope tied around his middle, pulling tighter and tighter as the day wore on.

It wasn’t until he passed the kitchen door that he noticed the date on the calendar, hanging crooked by the phone. It must have been sitting in the back of his subconscious all day.

Tim stood in his empty kitchen, watching rivulets stream down the window pane out of the corner of his eye.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how he could make himself feel better. He glanced at the clock. Well, there was one thing he could try.

Lex picked up after five rings. Tim almost hung up, fearing that she wasn’t home, but just as he moved the phone away from his ear, he heard it click.

“Hey, Tim.”

“Lex-”

“Did Ellie leave her book bag at your place? She can’t find it anywhere.”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut as thunder rumbled cross the sky.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll check.”

“She had such a good time last weekend. She keeps telling her friends that her uncle is Indiana Jones.”

That made Tim smile, his first reprieve from the noise in his head all day.

“He’s an archeologist.”

Lex sighed.

“She’s seven, Tim.”

“And a thief. Indiana Jones, I mean. Not Ellie.”

“Did you call just to rag on Indiana Jones?”

“I just don’t think he’s a good representative f-”

“Timmy.”

The nickname stopped him in his tracks. No one ever called him that, not since he was a kid. Only Lex was allowed and only in special circumstances, when she was teasing him or when she thought he was talking too much. It was her gentle way of bringing him back to the present. But the present is exactly where he didn’t want to be.

“Do you know what today is?”

She laughed softly.

“Uh, Tuesday?”

“Lex.”

“June 11th, Tim. Why? What does-”

She broke off so abruptly, he thought for a moment they’d been disconnected.

When Lex spoke again, her voice was low and quiet.

“Oh.”

Tim pressed his knuckles into his forehead, hard. He leaned back against the wall, teeth gritted so tight that his jaw ached.

He was an idiot. He was a stupid, spiteful idiot. Just because he was overwhelmed by the memories, that didn’t mean Lex was too. She was happy. She had moved on. He’d ruined everything.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Tim turned and pressed his head against the wall, trying to keep his breaths even. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no, it’s okay, Tim.”

“No, you’d forgotten and I made you remember. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

“I’m glad you did. And I hadn’t forgotten. I don’t think I c-” Lex went quiet for a moment, then she asked, “Do you want to come over? We’re just about to have dinner, I could save you some?”

Tim shook his head, even though he desperately wanted to accept.

“No, no, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? It won’t be a problem, we can just-”

“Lex, it’s fine. Thanks.” Tim forced a smile, even if there was no one around to see it. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Well, okay. If you’re sure.”

Lex didn’t sound convinced. He wasn’t surprised. She could always tell when he was lying, even when they were little. She could read him like a book. But she knew better than to push, especially on a day like today.

“Ellie would love to see you.”

The thought of his niece made Tim smile again.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He didn’t wait to hear her hang up. Tim put down the phone, keeping his hand pressed against the receiver as he tried decide what to do.

His head was so loud. Memories of the park, of his grandfather, the rain and the mud, swarmed like bees. More thunder rolled outside but all he could see was the flash of jagged teeth, burning yellow eyes, and his sister’s screams.

Tim passed Angela on his way to the door. She watched him grab his jacket, tail waving uneasily back and forth. She gently called out to him as he walked past again, arching her back towards him hopefully, but Tim only scratched her head.

The sound of the front door slamming shut behind him echoed through the apartment.

You were just settling a pot of water on the stove when you heard the loud knock at the door. You frowned, glancing up at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten, who on earth could be hammering on your door at this time?

You turned down the hob till just a tiny flame remained then pulled your old cardigan tighter around your body as you moved through your apartment to the front door.

Heart pounding, you peered through the spy-hole and gasped when you saw who was there. You moved back and wrenched open the door.

“Tim?”

He was dripping wet, rainwater slid down his face and off the ends of his hair. Tim’s shirt was two shades darker than it should have been and he’d left a small puddle on your doorstep. His shoes squeaked slightly as he stepped closer.

“Can I come in?”

You stared, too shocked to move. When you regained your senses, you moved to the side, gently pulling Tim inside.

The warmth of your apartment was almost painful. His skin smarted as you guided him into your living room, leaving a small trail of rainwater in his wake.

“I’m sorry,” Tim’s voice was hoarse, his throat raw. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have- You’re probably busy.”

“Shut up, of course I’m not. I’m never busy.” You squeezed his elbow, grimacing when water seeped onto your hand. “God, you’re soaked. Lemme take your jacket.”

He let you undress him, his eyes unseeing as you carefully guided his arms out of his thin outer layer. You threw it over the radiator, leaving it to dry as you went back to help him out of his shirt.

“Were you working late again?”

“No, I- I was at home and then I realised what day it is and I couldn’t- I didn’t feel- I had to get out of there,” Tim’s gaze flicked between you and the floor, his voice shaking. “And I was just walking around and I realised I was near your place and I had- I just had to see you. I-”

Your voice was gentle as you carefully began to unbutton the front of his shirt.

“Why were you walking around in the rain?”

“I…”

You paused, glancing up at him to make sure it was alright for you to keep going. When Tim nodded, his gaze fixed on you now, you moved onto the next button, carefully working your way down until you could push his shirt off his broad shoulders to reveal the plain white shirt you knew he would be wearing underneath.

“It’s been twenty-six years. Today. Twenty-six years today.”

Tim shuddered as you stepped closer, hoping you’d think it was just because of the cold and not the effect you had on him. It was the most he’d been touched in… Well, he couldn’t remember how long. It was enough to make his stomach lurch as your hands brushed his bare skin.

“Twenty-six years and I still can’t hear the damn rain without feeling like I’m gonna be sick.”

Your stomach twisted. You knew all about the incident. Tim had spoken about it only once or twice in all the time that you’d known each other, but you’d seen his scars, you knew the story, you knew how the fear he felt as a child still had its claws in him, even now.

“Tim-”

He looked down at the floor. He’d left patches of water on your carpet but you didn’t seem to care. His face felt hot, his eyes scratching. Soon, warm tears sliced through the cold water on his cheeks.

“It’s pathetic,” He spat out the words, angry and frightened and sad all at once. “Why can’t I- Why can’t I just get over it? I’m not a kid anymore, I shouldn’t be so scared all the time. I hate it.”

“It’s not pathetic,” you murmured.

There was a pause, just a beat, and then you moved closer.

Tim had half expected you to keep him at arm’s length, just like his parents, just like everyone he’d ever known, but you pulled him into a tight hug. He was soaked through and freezing, but you held him close against you, so close that he could feel your heart beating.

Then you were speaking to him, speaking to him in a voice so soft but so firm, a spark in your eyes, as you held his face between your hands.

“You went through something that no one else can understand. There’s no… Time limit for recovery.”

Your warm hands stung his skin but Tim leaned into them, wanting more, more of your warmth, more of you.

“I just… I wish I could…”

He rested his hands over yours, his long fingers completely covering your own, pressing them tighter against his cheeks.

“I know.”

Your thumb brushed away a stray tear. The thunder still growled outside but neither of you noticed it now.

“I know.”

Tim closed his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

He knew if he saw you, he would feel better. There was just something about you, this burning, golden light. It surrounded you, glowing stronger when you looked at him. He could feel it like sunlight on his skin. He couldn’t help but become addicted to the way you smiled at him, the shimmer of your voice, the warmth of your touch.

He could very easily stay like this forever, but he’d interrupted your evening, stormed in here jabbering about his problems, probably frightening you half to death at this late hour.

“Sorry,” he whispered, gently moving your hands away from his face. “I’m sorry, I should go.”

But your hands found his shoulders before he could go anywhere.

“Stay,” your murmured.

It was the most beautiful word he’d ever heard. Tim felt a shiver seep over his skin as your hands slipped down his arms, then around to his back.

“I shouldn’t have barged in like that-”

“Stay,” you said again, firm but gentle.

Tim gazed down at you. He wondered what on earth he had done to deserve you, he wondered how you always knew just what to say. He wondered if this is what love felt like, real love. He wondered if you knew that you felt like home to him, but like no home he’d ever known. He wondered.

“Have you eaten?”

Tim blinked, still dazed by your gentle touches.

“What?”

“Dinner. Have you had any?”

When he shook his head, you smiled and took his hand, guiding him to the sofa.

You left him for a moment to check that the pot on the stove hadn’t boiled over, then disappeared into the bathroom.

When you returned, you had a towel in your hands. You walked around to sit beside him on the sofa, shifting closer until your knee pressed against his thigh.

Instead of just leaving him to it, you began to towel his hair dry for him, moving the soft material around so carefully that Tim almost burst into tears. No one had ever been so gentle with him. You hummed to yourself as you worked, an unfamiliar tune but lovely all the same.

It was such a comforting feeling; he’d never really been looked after before. Tim had to hold in a soft moan as your fingers worked deep into his hair, moving from the roots all the way to the tips until it was no longer damp and he felt a lot warmer.

“Do you want the TV on? Music?”

Tim immediately missed your gentle touches when you stood up, his heart aching. But then you tugged a blanket from the back of the sofa and lifted it up high above his head so that it fell behind him, settling on his back. You pulled the corners around his shoulders, pushing them gently into his hands.

“Music would be nice.”

You left him on the sofa again, turning to run your fingertip along the spines of your CD collection. When you found the one you were looking for, you pulled it from the ranks with one finger, prised open the case and slipped it into the player.

Tim pulled in a long breath, and at last the tension in the pit of his stomach eased. He drew in another breath and another until he no longer felt that fearful ache. Then familiar music encircled his head with the same warmth as the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

‘I’ve seen it on your face, tells me more than any worn-out old phrase. So, now we’ll go separate ways. Never again we two, never again, nothing I can do…’

“I love this song.”

You smiled, laughing softly as you slipped the CD back onto the shelf.

“I know you do.”

And there it was. The terrifying, wonderful, strange truth of it all. You knew him. You knew.

You told him you were just going to start dinner but he could stay there, if he liked, in the warm. Tim agreed at first, happy to just do as he was told. But as the soft music soared around your apartment, he felt courage guide his body.

Soon he was in the kitchen with you, gently wrapping an arm around you waist.

Surprised, you turned away from the pasta boiling on the stove, and let out a relieved sigh as he pulled you against his chest. It felt so good to hold him, so good to be held by him, to have Tim’s hands on your back, his chest against yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured, turning and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

It was just a quick, chaste thing, but it made your heart pound. You were worried he’d be able to feel it as he pressed closer against you.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. Trust me.”

Tim moved away but not far, his gaze drifting between your eyes and your mouth. Thunder boomed outside but he didn’t even flinch.

He bent his head forward, his hands warm even through all your clothes.

“Thank you,” he murmured again, letting his forehead bump gently against yours.

Your breath shuddered as your eyes closed, and you bit your lip, embarrassed. Your heart seemed to be pushing against your ribs, pushing you forward against him, guiding your hands as they rose to press against his chest. You could feel his heart hammering under your palm.

“Can I..?”

He was so close now that his breath brushed your lips.

“Would it be alright if I..?”

You smiled.

“Yes.”

First his nose brushed yours, his hands smoothing down your sides to rest on your hips, then his lips just grazed your own. It was so gentle, you hardly felt it, but it was enough to set your heart racing.

You wanted more than anything to pull him tighter against you, but you waited patiently for him to move again. You would wait forever if he needed you to.

But then Tim’s hands pressed in, pulling you tighter against him, and your breath caught, lips parting as his mouth moved against yours, slowly, tentatively, but so, so, lovingly.

Tim found himself forgetting every worry that curled around his heart, every doubt he’d ever had about himself. All that mattered was you, just you and him, kissing in your kitchen on a stormy night.

You were disappointed when he eventually pulled away but he didn’t go far. You felt the tip of his nose brush past your cheek, then his forehead was pressed against yours again.

“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

He was warm, inviting. You didn’t want to let go. You were so stunned, you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, and when you finally managed to speak, your voice was small and breathless.

“Probably about as long as I have.”

You were so close that you were murmuring into each other’s mouths.

Tim let go of your hips with one hand, gently holding your face instead. His hands were rough and calloused, you could feel the raised lines of his scars against your skin. All you could think about was how they would feel running down your body, but that was another thought for another time.

Tim smiled to himself as you leaned into his hand, just as he had done to you.

“I came here because you’re the only thing that distracts me, from the rain, from all of it.”

You opened your eyes at last. In the low light, his gaze was warm and soft.

“I think that’s a compliment?”

Laughing softly, he moved closer still, and now Tim could feel every curve of your body against his. He felt a shiver run over his skin.

“It is, promise.”

There was a pause, just a moment, and all you could do was look at each other. Then your hands slipped up to his shoulders, pulling him back to you and you pressed your lips against his, much harder and more desperate than before, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth, earning yourself a groan.

With a delighted laugh, you slipped your hand into his hair, pulling softly. You felt Tim practically melt against you, and you knew that he knew that you loved him, that he was safe, that everything was going to be alright, that you had him.

Tim groaned as your tongue pressed against his, moaning your own name into your mouth. His voice was so soft, almost like he was praying. He spoke your name pleadingly, quietly, kissing you so desperately that your whole body curved into his.

His hands were everywhere, excited and eager, on your back, pressing under the hem of your shirt, making you break the kiss with a gasp.

Tim took the opportunity and tried to catch his breath for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours again. He pulled in a shaky breath, hoping to settle his nerves but it had little effect.

Instead, he laughed, breathless and hopelessly happy as you pressed kisses all over his face, letting him know that you wanted him, loved him, needed him, whilst the storm raged on outside.

Instead, he just laughed, breathless and hopelessly happy as you pressed kisses all over his face, letting him know that you wanted him, loved him, needed him, whilst the storm raged on outside.

#if this means nothing to anyone then that’s fine #but i thought it would be nice just to have this here as a nice reminder of good times #dr. tim murphy #doctor tim murphy #tim murphy #tim murphy fic #tim murphy x reader #tim murphy x you #jurassic park

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cassi-pokeblogging-hub · 2 months

Text

Heyo! I'm Cassiopeia!

The following blog is an ooc hub for all my pkmn irl accounts, and where the follows for all the accounts listed later in this post come from! This blog USED to be the rp blog for a character I no longer use and have no motivation for anymore, and is the main blog on this account, so I figured changing it into a hub blog of sorts would be a good idea.

I'm free to answer questions about my ocs ooc here, plot arcs, and generally talk about stuff in the pkmn irl community. I'll also possibly be boosting some accounts I think are cool, reblogging important posts and ask games in the community to hopefully spread them around a bit more, and just generally using this to store some posts about pokemon in general that I think are neat.

Info about the Mod and General Boundaries!

The following is some general information that might be useful. Like I said earlier, I'm Cassiopeia, but you can call me Cass, Cassi, or Pea! I use any pronouns, and I'm an adult (Adult meaning 18 or older in this case.) I'm the host of a system, and a splitroject (or whatever the term is I cant remember) with multiple sources, but notably several pokemon characters. Pokemon has been a systemwide special interest since we were a little kid, and we have a lot of opinions and headcanons, as well as know A LOT about the series as a whole. Our main account is @dragontypess but this is a seperate account so follows for pkmn irl stuff will come from here. A warning that we occasionally reblog heavy stuff or more adult oriented content on that blog (nothing outright nsfw, but usually some suggestive stuff and sexual humor, so minors beware)

I DO check peoples boundaries before I follow so don't worry! Only time I won't is if I miss them. Also sometimes I follow people just cause I think the blog is cool, but I tend to not interact outside of anons just cause while I like your blog, my blogs just can't or wouldn't interact, or I'm a little scared to, yknow?

Any pkmn irl rp account is allowed to interact with p much any of my blogs! Sentient pokemon, legendaries, eebies, etc etc etc. I run on Rotomblr being a multiverse. I may not interact much if our canons diverge too strongly for personal comfort but usually it's whatever cause of the previously mentioned multiverse thing. Some general stuff I go by on all my blogs are people do eat pokemon, and pokemon do eat other pokemon. There are small bugs and bacteria and shit thatre still. alive but not pokemon. Not all pokemon lay eggs. A more mammalian pokemon like stoutland would give live birth like a real dog, and stuff like the more plant like pokemon like sunflora or oddish produce seeds. Not going to go too into details but thats something that happens.

While I am an adult, I prefer not to engage with more suggestive or outright nsfw content on the pkmn irl sphere. There's a lot of minors in this community, and I'd like to keep my blogs generally safe spaces for them to interact. If it's anything you wouldn't joke about with a middle schooler or high schooler, probably not. I try to tag stuff that can be upsetting on all my blogs, and I'll usually ask before doing anything big with anyone elses blogs. There's other stuff, but DNI's don't usually work, so I'll probably just block you if I don't like your vibes.

My tumblr dms are always open, so if you'd like to plot anything out, I'm free to chat here or on the rp account in question! You CAN leave a message on my main account too, but I'd prefer to keep rp stuff here. If you already know my discord and we've chatted in dms there before in the past, that's also an option, but otherwise stick to tumblr.

If you have a problem with me, please tell me because I am stupid. If you don't want me following you please just block me, or tell me straight up because I will not realize.

Pokemon IRL Blogs I run:

Putting these under the cut cause there's a lot. Includes summaries.

@yveltalreal - A blog for the legendary pokemon Yveltal, and their specialest little guy (chosen). Yveltal is the very same from Pokemon Y that was captured by Lysandre and Team Flare, although from a canon where both X and Y are true. Reaper Sys are just OCs that experiance horrors unending. Used primarily in a Discord RP

@northernwindsglory - A slow eeby deeby. And I mean slow. Glory is a big fan of Legands and Myths, and wants to learn all there is about them! Unfortunately, this has... consequences...

@pure-incense - my attempt at making a normal ass guy i can just interact with a bunch of people with. probably gonna end up being a very active blog but who knows we'll see.

@fruitbasket-gossip - A joint blog with 3 friends. I play Mod Starf. A group of NaraUva students and Blueberry students fucking around on Rotomblr. What will they do? Who knows!

@vital-spirit - A joint blog with a friend! A pmd blog in a setting inspired by various western movies. A whole new set of towns, dungeons, and characters unrelated to those in the various games. I play Lucario.

@blazingvictory -the blog of a bba student with so many problems and issues.

@crater-champion - A blog for Florian, protag of SV, specifically violet in this case. Linked to the Juliana from the blog @union-circle, who is from Scarlet. Another scenario of both games being true yippe. Post DLC and Epilogue. Don't ask him about what happened to Blueberry's League once he left (Please do. He's going to dodge the question like mad and it'll be funny.)

@shields-down - The blog of a VERY excitable Blueberry student named Electra. They're just here to have a good time and be silly.

@dread-plate - A semi-doccumentation of a Challenge Run I'm doing of Ultra Sun. Rift is a dark typed human and former big shot battler who's trying to get away from it all, retracing the steps they did as a child on their Island Challenge.

@redwoodrevival - Redwood Revival and Rescue is a research facility and sanctuary for various pokemon, especially those from the past. The blog is run by the owner of the facility, Professor Redwood herself, as well as her two assistants, Fern and Ginkgo. Mostly just a place for me to ramble about my pokemon hcs lol. Please ask her shit Semi-Inactive due to lack of asks.

@capricious-syrpents - A blog run by a Blueberry Academy student by the name of Malus! Formerly a member of the League Club but kicked out during Kieran's Reign as champion for bullshit reason, Malus is now in the music club and also not happy about no longer being allowed within League Club. Used primarily in a Discord RP

@snug-as-a-bugtype-in-a-rug - An eeby deeby from Alola by the name of Deb. She's been turned into a cutiefly, and is not having a good time. Free her from the hell that is minimum wage. Inactive due to lack of motivation.

@acetrainerchrys - Chrys is a skilled trainer from Johto who moved to Paldea about a year ago. Following strange events that led her to hatching an egg that contained the legendary pokemon giratina, she has not known peace since. She's the cousin of Reaper Sys from @yveltalreal. What do you expect? Used primarily in a Discord RP

@a0ranger - Venus is the father of Reaper Sys from @yveltalreal and a ranger stationed in Area 0 in Paldea. As him about his work sometime! Mostly a place for me to talk about my headcanons regarding pokemon, especially those surrounding Area 0 and give some silly stories. Semi-Inactive due to lack of asks

@lucias-narauva-hell - Lucia is actually normal. Her biggest problem is Ms. Tyme's math class. Why are there people at her school with absurdly strong pokemon and basically superpowers? What the fuck. Used primarily in a Discord RP

@festivalofmasks - A blog of Carmine from the games, post DLC and epilogue. Inactive due to lack of motivation and uncomfortable asks I got early on into running the blog. May come back to it one day.

There's a few others but they're completely dead and I have no intent to use them again for a while, and are still attached to my main rather than this blog.

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sfb123 · 1 year

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I Know Places (Happy Birthday Burns!)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley, Drake x Alyssa

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Alyssa Devereaux, who belongs to the birthday girl @burnsoslow

Summary: In a prequel to last year's birthday fic, Riley notices some odd behavior from Drake and is determined to find out what he is hiding.

Song: I Know Places - Taylor Swift

You are the only person on the planet who could get me to drop a Taylor Swift song anywhere. That's how much I love you.

Rating: PG (a couple of swear words)

Word Count: 2,703

A/N: Happy birthday to my wonderful friend @burnsoslow. You are so sweet, and funny, and thoughtful. When I came to Tumblr however long ago, and started obsessively reading your stories, I never, in a million years, thought that I would actually be lucky enough to call you my friend. I'm sitting here trying to put together words about how much having you in my life means to me, but I'm not sure they even exist. I just love you so so much, and hope that you spent today partying like it's 1999! 😘

A/N 2: No pre-reader, so you get what you get. If it sucks, and the grammar is terrible, that's all on me. Godspeed.

Tags: This is my first run with the new tag list, so if you're not on here but would like to be added, just let me know!

Liam and Riley sat on the couch in his office, reviewing their opening remarks for the Five Kingdoms Festival that would be happening the following day. A knock on the door pulled their attention away, Liam called for the visitor to come in.

“Well, well, well,” Riley said as Drake entered the room. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Drake rolled his eyes and approached the pair. “Hello Brooks.” He walked over to Liam, who was now standing. “Hey, Li.”

“Drake,” Liam shook his friend’s hand. “It has been a while.”

“Yeah,” Drake rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Riley suggested, noticing that something was off with him. “Eleanor has been asking for you, she misses her Uncle Drake.”

Drake’s expression softened. He hadn’t been spending as much time with Eleanor as he usually would. She had just become a big sister, and he knew how hard it could be going from being an only child to having to share attention with a younger sibling.

“I really wish I could…” He trailed off, his eyes darting between his friends. “I promised Savannah I’d go up to Ramsford tonight. But I’ll be at the festival tomorrow. I’ll take Eleanor for some cotton candy or something.”

“Sure, she’d love that.” Riley agreed.

Drake said his goodbyes and exited the office. Once he was gone, Liam and Riley settled themselves back on the couch, Liam lifted his wife’s legs to rest across his lap.

“That was weird, right?” Riley asked.

“Not really,” Liam shrugged as he slipped off her shoes and began rubbing her feet. “Drake and his sister are close, of course he would want to have dinner with her.”

Riley sighed at her husband’s response. “You know, for someone who was trained to read people, you can be awfully thick sometimes.”

Liam’s movements stopped as his head snapped in her direction. “Excuse me?”

“Come on Liam, he was being so dodgy! He couldn’t give us a straight answer about where he’s been.”

“To be fair,” Liam began. “We never asked him for one. Besides, Drake has always been a pretty private person, if he wanted us to know, he would have told us.”

She returned her feet to the ground, retrieving her shoes and putting them on. “Ugh! You’re so bad at being nosy!” She groaned. “Let’s go, I miss our babies.”

Regina had offered to watch Eleanor, and the newest edition to the royal family, Prince David, while Liam and Riley worked on the final preparations for the festival. They left Liam’s office and met up with Regina to pick up the kids before returning to their quarters for the evening.

***

After dinner, and a few rounds of Candy Land, it was time for Eleanor to go to bed. In an effort to help her with the transition from only child to big sister, her parents decided to take turns putting her to bed each night ensuring she had some quality one-on-one time with each of them. It was Liam’s turn to tuck her in, so Eleanor said goodnight to her mother and brother and walked hand in hand with her father to her room.

Liam sat on Eleanor’s bed, his arm wrapped around her, holding a book in front of them. Eleanor was learning how to read, so as they made their way through the story, Liam would pause, pressing his finger against the words, encouraging his daughter to read along, and helping her as she went.

“... and they,” he pointed to the next word and nodded encouragingly at her.

“Lived happ… happy…”

“Almost, princess. Happil…”

“Happily!” She exclaimed, Liam chuckled at her excitement and kissed the side of her head. “Happily ever after!”

“That’s right! Good work, Eleanor!” Liam pulled her close, kissing the top of her head before closing the book and carrying it to the bookshelf. “Now, I believe we have one more item of business,” he made his way to the collection of stuffed animals that were gathered in the corner of her room. “Who would you like to keep you company tonight?”

Eleanor’s eyes traveled through the crowd, her index finger tapping against her lips as she contemplated her selection. Her movements halted, and her smile grew upon making her decision, “Hunny Bunny please.”

“Excellent choice.” Liam turned to the pile searching for the golden rabbit. He moved the other animals around, trying to locate it. “Hmm… she doesn’t seem to be here.”

“But where is she, Daddy?” Eleanor looked at her father with tired, sad eyes.

“I’m… well, I’m not sure, princess. Where do you last remember having her?” He made his way around the room, looking anywhere Hunny Bunny could possibly be hiding.

“I… I don’t know.” Eleanor replied through her sniffles. “Daddy, please find her.”

Liam looked up at his daughter, her eyes were beginning to water, and her chin was trembling. He knew between Eleanor being tired, and wanting her toy, a meltdown would be inevitable if they didn’t find this rabbit.

“Oh Eleanor, don’t cry.” He rushed to his daughter’s side. “Why don’t we ask Mommy if she has seen Hunny Bunny?” Eleanor rubbed her eyes as she nodded at her father. He kissed her on the forehead before going to the door. “Riley, love, could you come here for a moment?” He called down the hallway.

Riley entered the room to find Liam consoling a crying Eleanor. “What happened here?” She said as she approached the pair, placing a comforting hand on Eleanor’s back. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“We can’t find Hunny Bunny.” Eleanor cried before falling into her mother’s arms.

Riley looked up at Liam and she could see the worry in his face. “Okay, it’s all okay. Let’s just calm down here. She has to be somewhere, she didn’t get up and hop away.”

“When do you remember seeing her with it last?” Liam asked Riley as she continued to console her daughter.

She racked her brain, thinking back over the past couple of days, trying to picture everywhere they went, when it suddenly hit her. “Ramsford! She wanted to show Bartie, so she brought it when we were there for lunch the other day.” Riley put her hands on Eleanor’s shoulders and pulled her back gently. “Eleanor, I’m going to go call Uncle Max to see if Hunny is there, okay?”

Eleanor nodded as she rubbed her eyes. Riley stood from the bed and pulled her phone out of her back pocket as she stepped into the hallway.

“Hey Riley!” Maxwell greeted her on the second ring.

“Max, thank god! We have a bit of an emergency.”

“What’s wrong? Who’s coming for the throne now?”

Riley chuckled at his response, which helped ease her concern about the issue. After everything they had been through, if the worst thing to happen to them is a lost stuffed animal, then everything was going to be just fine. “It’s nothing like that. Eleanor can’t find her Hunny Bunny. I think we may have left it there.”

“Oh yeah, she’s here. I’ll bring it tomorrow when we come for the festival.”

“Actually, could you just give it to Drake? I’m sure he won’t mind dropping it off on his way home.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Max? Are you still there?”

“I’m here, but Drake’s not.”

“But he said he was having dinner with Savannah tonight.”

“Nope, he hasn’t been by in a couple of weeks actually.”

“Man, I knew he was being shady!”

“Wait, what do you mean? What’s going on?”

“I’ll fill you in tomorrow. For now, please please bring Hunny Bunny with you tomorrow.”

“You bet, see you then!”

Riley hung up the phone and took a deep breath before returning to her daughter’s room. Without Eleanor’s stuffed animal of choice, it was going to be a long night.

***

The next day, the royal family walked through the crowd greeting people, and exploring everything the festival had to offer.

“I get what you’re saying,” Riley said to Liam. “But he’s not just not telling us stuff, he’s straight up lying to us. That’s not a Drake thing.”

Liam looked at his wife thoughtfully. “That’s true. As much as he’s kept to himself, I’ve never known him to lie to me.”

“So, we can confront him and ask him what’s going on?”

“Uncle Drake!” Eleanor’s excited shout pulled Liam and Riley’s attention. They looked ahead and saw Drake approaching them.

“Hey, kiddo.” Drake smiled as he lifted Eleanor into a hug.

As Eleanor and Drake greeted each other, Liam and Riley had a conversation with their eyes. Liam pleaded with Riley not to confront him, to which she agreed.

“So Eleanor, how would you like some cotton candy?” Drake asked.

The princess’s eyes went wide as she turned to her parents for permission. Liam and Riley chuckled at her hopeful expression. “Mommy, Daddy, please?” Eleanor begged. “I’ll bring some back for baby David.”

“That’s very sweet of you, princess,” Liam leaned in, kissing his daughter on the cheek. “But babies can’t eat cotton candy.”

“That’s right, baby girl,” Riley added. “So why don’t you just go ahead and eat extra for your brother?”

Eleanor cheered and jumped up and down in excitement. “Come on, Uncle Drake!” She grabbed his hand and rushed him toward the food vendors.

A while later, Riley was mercifully pulled away from a conversation with Hakim and Joelle Theron when David started crying from his stroller. She excused herself, and once she was out of their earshot, she thanked her son profusely for his timing.

“Riley! Riley, wait up!” Maxwell called as he rushed to catch up with his friend.

“Diaper emergency Max, no time.” She replied, just as he fell into step with her.

The pair stepped into the palace and into a small sitting area. As Riley set up a makeshift diaper station on a nearby table, Maxwell bounced on his heels behind her.

“Riley, you’re never going to guess what I saw?”

Riley recoiled back as she opened David’s soiled diaper. “Ugh, it can’t be any worse than this.”

“I think I know what’s going on with Drake.”

Riley turned to face Maxwell. “Spill right now, Beaumont.”

***

The next day, as the Royal Council meeting let out, Liam caught Drake before he could slip out, and invited him back to his office for a drink. As soon as they walked in the office, Liam’s desk chair slowly turned, revealing Riley, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Welcome, Drake.” She said as she rested her elbows on the desk, steepling her fingers in front of her.

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. When he and Riley talked about confronting Drake, they agreed that they would speak to him rationally. His wife appeared to have other plans.

“What’s up with you, weirdo?” Drake asked at Riley’s dramatic display.

Liam invited Drake to sit before stepping to the bar cart and making two drinks. He handed one to Drake before stepping around the desk and standing beside his wife. “Drake, we wanted to talk to you. To make sure you were alright.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He responded. “Why would you ask?”

“Because you’re a big fat liar!” Riley blurted out. Liam placed a hand on her shoulder at the outburst as Drake’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Drake,” Liam interjected. “The other night, when you told us that you were going to Ramsford, Riley spoke with Maxwell, and he told her you hadn’t been there.”

“Hold on,” Drake stood from his chair. “You guys are checking up on me?”

“Not intentionally. We lost one of Eleanor’s toys, and I called Maxwell to find it.” Riley crossed her arms over her chest. “And don’t try to turn this around on us.”

“Love, stand down.” Liam leaned down, kissing her on the cheek before turning back to Drake. “Drake, we’re just worried about you. You know we don’t mind that you keep to yourself, but it’s not like you to lie.”

Drake let out a deep breath as he fell back into his chair, finishing off the rest of his drink. “I’m sorry you guys. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed some time to myself for a while.”

“Well that’s another lie.” Riley scoffed, Drake arched a brow at her. “You have a girlfriend!”

Drake’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. “How did you…”

“Maxwell saw you canoodling at the festival yesterday.” She responded. “What’s wrong with her? Why don’t you want to show her off? Does she have an eyepatch? Pegleg? Hook hand?”

Liam and Drake both froze and stared at Riley curiously.

“What the fuck, Brooks?” Drake finally broke the silence.

“Love, I don’t think Drake is seeing a pirate.”

“Sorry, Eleanor’s been on a real Peter Pan kick. I’ve got pirates on the brain.” She shrugged.

“Riley, can you give Drake and I a moment alone?” Liam asked.

Riley stood from the chair, and moved to leave the office, pausing before she opened the door and turning back to her husband and her friend. “I just want the chance to be there for you the way you always have for me.” Before Drake could respond, she was gone.

“I’m sorry, Drake.” Liam apologized as he sat in his chair. “I didn’t mean for this to be an attack on you.”

“It’s alright,” Drake shrugged. “And for the record, I’m sorry I lied to you guys.”

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Liam finished off his drink and stood, tilting his chin toward Drake’s glass. He nodded, affirming that he wanted a refill. Liam took the glasses and took them to the bar cart.

“So,” Liam began as he refilled their drinks, “What’s her name?”

“Alyssa, Alyssa Devereaux.” He said. Even with his back to his friend, Liam could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re happy?” Liam asked as he handed Drake his drink.

“I am Li, she’s amazing. I never expected to fall as hard as I did.”

Liam nodded as he returned to his seat, placing his drink down in front of him. “Why wouldn’t you want to share that happiness with your friends?”

Drake shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, it’s just,” he trailed off, trying to find the best way to explain what he was feeling. “This whole world, the court, nobles, all that, it’s a lot. I know what it can do to an outsider, I wanted to protect her from it.”

“That’s reasonable, I understand wanting to protect someone you care about, you know that.” Drake nodded in response. “But Drake, if this is something that you see as long term, it’s an inevitability that you will need to start introducing her into this whole world. As much as I know it pains you to admit it, you are a part of the court.”

“Yeah, you’re right. There are just so many things that could go wrong. I don’t want to lose her, Liam.”

Liam smiled, he had known Drake his whole life, and he had never talked about a girl like this. He had it bad, and it was painfully obvious. “Why don’t you ease her into it. She doesn’t have to dive into it all at once.”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked.

“Introduce her to people that will be at court functions ahead of time. That way, she will have allies to turn to if she gets uneasy.”

Drake arched a brow. “Allies like the king and queen?”

“If you’re going to have allies, it doesn’t hurt for them to be at the top.” Liam grinned sheepishly.

Drake let out a deep breath. “I guess I can’t keep her hidden forever.”

“Wonderful!” Liam exclaimed. “You should bring her by for dinner this weekend. Just a small, unofficial get together. We’ll do it in our quarters, Riley will cook. Completely informal, just your friends meeting your… girlfriend?” Drake nodded, confirming Alyssa’s title.

“I guess that sounds alright. I mean, if it’s just you guys, I can’t imagine what could go wrong.”

Permatag:

@3pawandme @alj4890 @busywoman @charlotteg234 @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @differenttyphoonwerewolf @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @imashybish @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @malblk21 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam:

@amandablink @custaroonie @jared2612

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @the0afnan @xpandass420x

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wildwren · 2 years

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Well, hello Rings of Power fandom folks! Some activity in the tag has got me thinking it might be time for a post such as this one. It’s certainly not new or groundbreaking information by any means, but I figured some ROP-specific content about fanfic, fanfic writers, and how to use AO3 might be helpful, seeing as we’re a new, burgeoning fandom about to go into a (very) long hiatus.

Looking for fanfics?

Archive of Our Own is usually the best place to look! Sometimes fanfic writers will post short fics as text posts on Tumblr, or they might make a post to link to the AO3 page for their fic, but if you’re only searching Tumblr for fanfics, you’re missing a huge amount of the creativity that’s being shared in this fandom!

As of the writing of this post (October 12th) there are over 200 fanfics in the Archive of Our Own Tag and more being added every day!

You can find them all HERE

Where can I read my “ship?”

Currently the largest “ship” tags for canon characters are:

Galadriel / Halbrand - 33 fics

Arondir / Bronwyn - 26 fics

Elrond & Durin - 16 fics

Elrond / Durin - 12 fics

*if you’re unfamiliar, the & modifier suggests a platonic, familiar, or non-romantic relationship, whereas the / distinguishes a relationship with romantic or sexual implications. Sometimes writers use both modifiers to express that they are writing about a relationship that straddles the line or changes throughout the course of the fic*

Where are all the Adar fics?

The tags for Adar/Original Character, Adar/Original Female Character, Adar/Reader, and Adar/You have not yet been wrangled (organized and codified by the volunteers at AO3), so it’s a little harder to see them all, but a cursory scroll through the general tag will demonstrate that there are *many* Adar fics.

You can also use the Adar character tag, which currently has 32 works. Not all of these will necessarily feature Adar as the main character or give you only Adar/OC fics, (Adar/Arondir is also a pairing with a handful of fics) but it’s easier to see your options this way.

What about reader-insert fics?

Reader-insert fics are a specific sub-genre of fanfics where the reader (usually expressed by use of the second person - you, your, you're, etc.) is written into a scenario with a canon character. Sometimes this is sexual, sometimes it's simply a moment of hurt/comfort or friendship. These fics are usually tagged Character/Reader, or sometimes Character/You. They might also be tagged as Character/OC, if the author is considering the "reader" to be an original character.

Not all fanfic authors write Reader insert fic. If you're thinking about requesting from a writer in the fandom, take a look at their existing work to see if this is something they specialize in. There are lots of great writers who specifically focus on "Imagines" or Reader inserts if that's what you're looking for.

How do I share my appreciation for writers?

Aw, thanks. It does really mean a lot to us to know that our work is being read and appreciated. If you want more content for your fandom/character/ship, etc. the best way to do that is to share a few words of appreciation for your favorite writers. Writing fanfic is a hobby, one that folks put a lot of time and love into, and it's always nice to know that their effort is being received.

Posting things like "where are all the X fics?" or "why won't anyone write this specific thing I want?" or "come ON, fic writers, you're SLEEPING on X" is definitely NOT a good way to motivate writers. Leaving a polite request in their ask box (if they are open to requests) is generally appreciated!

But the BEST way to motivate writers is to engage with their work.

Reblog their fic posts. Add a reblog or tags sharing how much you liked it.

Reply to their Tumblr fic posts (if they make them).

Go to AO3 and COMMENT on their fics. Kudos are lovely but the serotonin lives in the comments. It doesn't have to be anything fancy, here are a few ideas to get you going:

"I loved this so much! Thank you for writing!"

"This was my favorite line." [copy and paste favorite line]

"This part really reminded me of this specific character moment from the show."

"I read this twice, that's how much I enjoyed it!"

"Thank you for writing these underappreciated characters."

I think that's all for now!

Thank you for reading and sharing this post if you feel so moved. The fandom will probably continue to grow but also experience some dormancy in the season interim, especially as the hiatus drags on. Your favorite creators might spend time with other fandoms or ships while waiting for new canon content. I hope we can all keep pumping each other up, being respectful, and supporting creativity until Season 2 drops. And the best part is, if you want to see something in the fandom, YOU CAN CREATE IT YOURSELF!

Bless.

#the rings of power #rings of power #trop #rop #lotr the rings of power #lotr on prime #long post #fandom meta #fandom etiquette #fanfic #rings of power fanfic #rop fanfic #archive of our own

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yourlocalartsonist · 1 year

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ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter One

A/N: HI I’M FINALLY POSTING THE FIRST CHAPTER. Really excited and super nervous but I’m SO happy I can finally share this with everyone. I’m not doing a drawing for every chapter since that’d be selling my soul to the red dilf down below but this is the first chapter so I figured why not do something special. Also apologies if any of the characters seem ooc, I’m still learning how to write them so it might take a bit (especially the dialogue). Also also, sorry if the formatting seem weird, I just copy pasted a google doc into Tumblr and I haven’t entirely figured out how this app works yet. ANYWHIZZLE despite all that I hope y’all enjoy and I can’t wait to write more ^^

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Disclaimer: chapter involves themes of manipulation, violence, and curse words. If you’re sensitive to that stuff, scroll past and stay safe <3

—

I looked out the window and sighed. Today could have been a lot worse, sure, but it also could’ve been a whole lot better.

It was one am on a Monday night. Staying up this late this early in the week is gonna guarantee a begrudgingly painful school life till Friday. And yet, here I was, staring at my phone at his texts.

Zane: Hey! You were active on insta. How come you didn’t text back?

Zane: hey it’s been an hour now. I’m starting to worry about you

Zane: Salena are you ignoring me? I already said I was sorry

Zane: fine then. Don’t text me. But at least talk to me tomorrow. I miss you.

Zane: Goodnight.

He was getting clingier by the day. Last month when he asked me out, I was worried rejecting him would break his heart. Somehow, it looks like it had the opposite effect and boosted his ego since he’s only gotten more pushy after that. I mean today he picked a fight with a guy just for talking to me. It’s getting ridiculous.

I groaned and hopped off bed to get a drink of water. I know I should probably forgive him, I’m sure he’s just coping differently maybe. It’ll get better with time. I hope it gets better with time. Otherwise the next four months are gonna be excruciatingly long. Still, I can’t just not be mad after what he did.

As I lamented in my depressive thoughts, I saw four figures out the window, running from rooftop to rooftop. Smiling, I opened the window and let the cool air and the joyous voices flow in. At least one good thing’s coming out from today.

It looked like they were chasing someone, a giant pig man specifically. I would’ve been more freaked out if this was the first human-animal thing I saw.

The very first time I saw one was a giant bull in a bellboy uniform running along the sidewalk, clumsily knocking anything and everything over as he wept. I assumed my sleep deprived brain was probably making things up again but the sheer absurdity of it paired with the fact that my sleep schedule was actually decent that week, I began to question that guess. Then, only ten minutes later, seeing four human-sized turtles walking upright seemingly searching for the bull man sealed the deal that I could not be making this shit up.

But that was two or three years ago. Now, it’s more of a fun surprise seeing the new animal person of the week than a sanity-questioning spiral. Most often, I see the turtles passing by. Sometimes they’re goofing off or skateboarding. Other times, they’re chasing someone like right now. I can only assume the pig man is evil if he’s being chased by them. I know the turtles are good since I suspect they’re the “mysterious heroes” that saved New York from that-which-shall-not-be-named a few months back. I mean, who else could it be?

Even if they’re chasing a potential murderous lunatic, they seem like they’re having fun. They’re all smiling and laughing and whizzing around everywhere, just looking at them gives me an adrenaline rush.

I stared out the window longingly as they zipped by, disappearing into the night. Maybe the late night was getting to my brain, but things just felt worse than usual this time. I’ve been watching these four go by my window at least once a week for so long. They always look so fun to be around. Free-spirited and zany, the exact opposite of everyone in my life. Maybe I really am going insane but for once I just want to know them, to see them up close. And if I’m feeling particularly crazy, I might even say hello.

I found my body edging closer and closer out the window. The fire-escape does lead all the way down, and I’m only on the sixth floor anyway. It’s not exactly a fast distance to the ground but it wouldn’t be too bad if I run…

Before I knew it, I was already out dashing in their direction to catch up. I’ve only ever dreamed of having enough courage to actually attempt this. If my aunt finds out I snuck out my grave will be dug and that’s not an exaggeration.

Yet somehow, that didn’t stop me. My skin felt numb from the cold wind, my hair was going crazy behind me. I felt pain in my cheeks from how much I was smiling. I guess I am feeling particularly crazy tonight.

***

By the time I caught up with them, I was embarrassingly out of breath. They were now all ground level in an alleyway and I was hiding just around the corner, close enough to listen in. A little nervous if they can hear my hideous dying dog pants, not just because it would blow my cover but also for the sake of my prestige. They seem a little too distracted by the pig man to notice me, though.

“Alright, meathead! Give us the poison, or I’m gonna smash your head into the wall and keep smashing till I smash the wall down with my smashy little fists!”

Note to self: the red one likes smashing.

“Oh get stuffed you annoying little rats! Can’t a guy sabotage his rival chef’s excuse of a business in peace?”

“GASP! He’s defaming rats!”

They broke out into a fight over what looked to be a large bag of, assumedly, poison. The pig man’s tentacle arms were whipping all over the place, trying to land a blow on the turtles. Oh and apparently his arms can extend which I would find cool if it weren’t for how gross it looked. It’s all drippy and squishy-looking and weird, not a texture I’d want to be near.

I won’t lie, I was kind of distracted from the danger I put myself in since being this close allowed me to properly see the turtles fight. At first glance it looks like they’re flailing all over the place, but it’s actually in a more cohesive way. The blue turtle teleported around and sliced the tentacles attacking them, the red one went in for a punch with giant fists at any opening. Purple guy had glowing guns in his signature color all shooting at the same time and the orange turtle swung around hitting pig man with any object his fiery chains landed on. My god was I awestruck watching them all in action. I was so busy gawking I barely even registered the magic weapons.

One of the flame chains got a hold of his leg and sent the pig guy flying backwards, losing grip of his poison bag.

“Heads up!” The blue one yelled as the bag soared through the air. All the turtles attempted catching it while the pig man’s tentacle arm followed close behind the bag. It looked like it was about to be body horror Peppa Pig’s win.

So I stepped out and grabbed the bag before he could. All eyes now on me, I made a run for it in the other direction realizing how exposed I was. Behind me I could hear a confused “Who was that?” sounding like it was from the purple guy.

Yeah, sure, maybe this wasn’t the smartest move but if I’m getting myself involved I might as well be useful.

I’d break in and out of thought every time I crashed into a wall or slid on the ground. I was never exactly known for my clearly graceful nature. My body started aching. Still I kept running, only stopping to throw a rock or two at one of the stringy pink arms behind me. Seriously, why does that dude have to be so puke-worthy.

A silver blur sped right past my head. The glowing sword stopped in front of me and a familiar blue turtle appeared out of thin air.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

As much as I pride myself on reflexes, the initial shock didn’t wear off fast enough to prevent me from crashing into him and falling back on the ground. I barely had an impact on him, though, since he was still standing perfectly fine with a hand on his hip and the other gripping his weapon.

“Look pal, I have been heroing all week and as much as I love fighting villains and looking badass, I say we make this fast and you just tell me who sent you.”

“S-sent me?” It took me a while to catch on. Not my best day, I know.

“Oh, no no no! I'm not working for anyone! I was trying to help. See?”

I held out the bag towards him, hoping that would convince him I’m not a threat. To my surprise, instead of taking it, he squinted his eyes and me and crouched down to match my height.

“You know, you look kinda familiar. Have we met before?..”

I was too stunned to respond.

Back when I first saw the turtles, after seeing the human bull, I overheard them talking about him and wanting to find him. The blue one especially, he seemed extremely guilty about something. I figured I’d help but I wasn’t brave enough to just go up to them and tell them I saw the bull. I’m too shy to even approach regular humans, these were talking anthropomorphic turtles. So instead I threw a note down and it bounced off blue’s head. He looked at it, read it, then looked up at me. I poked my head out from behind the fire escape and gave an awkward wave, trying to let him know I was on their side. It worked since he directed his team towards where I wrote the bull man went.

I remember later that same night, he knocked on my window. I was a bit freaked out admittedly and hid away by instinct. I wasn’t exactly expecting to see them again.

“Oookay. Well.” I could tell he wasn’t sure how to deal with me. I was regretting hiding but my legs were frozen in place.

“I don’t know if you can hear me since the window’s closed but I wanted to say thanks for the note. We found our guy way faster than we would’ve if we kept having to use Raph’s ideas.” He let out a playful chuckle.

I felt my heart melt a little. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t really that. I don’t usually hear things like that often.

“So yeah uh, if you can still hear me, thank you.”

My legs started working again as I heard him leap off to leave. I opened the window and rushed out to the fire escape. Luckily, he was on the ground not too far away from me. I called out to him.

“Salena!”

He turned around and saw me. “What?”

I beamed brighter and yelled again.

“My name is Salena!”

“Salena?” His voice brought me back to present day.

“You remember me?”

He let out a cheery laugh. “Of course I remember you! I told you, your note was the only reason we found Bullhop so fast that day.”

“But that was years ago.” I sighed in disbelief as he helped me to my feet.

“And? No face has ever escaped ol’ Neon Leon’s noggon!” He proudly pointed to his brain. I debated telling him the word was noggin.

We heard voices in the distance.

“PUNCHING LIKE A BOSS!!”

“I SWEAR ONE DAY I’LL TURN YOU ALL INTO STEW!”

“GUYS! He wants to turn me into stew!”

“Mikey, that’s not a good thing.”

“Says you! I��d make a delicious stew, thank you very much, Dee!”

“Welp, duty calls! Let’s get you to safety.” With that, he opened a blue portal and pulled me through it to a nearby rooftop. So his swords can teleport and open portals??

“You think you can keep this bag with you?”

I managed to nod.

He gave a smirk and stepped back through his portal to rejoin the battle.

“Leo! Where’s the bag?”

“And the person who stole the bag?” I could still hear red and purple speak.

“Relax, they’re a friend, they’re keeping the bag safe.”

“A new friend?! OMIGOSH!!” Orange seemed excited

The fight picked up fiercer than before. It was hard to keep up with the turtles and the chaos of their weapons. Orange flames, purple lasers, sheathing metal. The ground shook at every red flash. All the while, the air filled with lively laughter and jokes.

Pig man wasn’t going down easy, either. He pounded his giant spiky mallet, probably matching the force of red’s hits. I know they’re experienced fighters and all, but I felt a bit useless sitting around and doing nothing. I looked around for some way I could help.

Luckily, something caught my attention. On the left side of the roof, I could see a pile of bricks laying around. More than perfect for knocking out a mutant. Now the question is how to get them down.

I saw a flash of blue out the corner of my eye.

Bingo.

Screaming at the top of my lungs, hoping my voice wouldn’t be drowned out, I called out to him.

“Blue! Hey, blue up here!”

He followed my voice to where I was, looking a bit confused and worried I was giving myself away.

I pointed to the brick in my hand. “Make a portal on top of him!”

I saw his face light up as he understood my plan. “Great idea!”

As he dashed off, a blue portal opened near me. I rushed around the roof, grunting as I pushed the bricks in. Blue threw a sword in the air, appeared right above the pig, and opened the other side of the portal, letting all the bricks rain down on him. They all looked a bit surprised seeing around 8 or 10 bricks hit him on the head, blue included. Yeah, sure, maybe pushing all of them in was a bit overkill but seeing how crazy powerful this guy was, I didn’t want to risk it.

And boy, was he out cold. The four turtles made their way up the roof, I presume to get the bag of poison.

I glanced back down at the pig “So like…he’s not dead is he?”

“Meatsweats? Nah that guy’s handled way worse.” Blue said strangely casually. “Good thinking with the bricks, btdubs.”

I’d appreciate the compliment more but I was still struggling to figure out what could possibly be worse than bricks to the head.

“Yeah, thanks for your help back there with the poison, too.” red rubbed his neck and gave a sweet smile. For a big guy he seems awfully friend-shaped.

“I’m Raph. These are my brothers Leo, Mikey, and Donnie.” Leo struck a pose, Mikey waved like his life depended on it, and Donnie…well he was just on his phone with his shell turned towards me. It’s a cool shell, at least. I never noticed it wasn’t a real one before.

“I’m Salena. Nice to meet you all.”

People used to tell me I ask too many questions so I got into the habit of just keeping my tongue bit. But I would’ve exploded if I didn’t seize the moment today to find out what the hell was going on. I’m bad at social situations, anyway, might as well be on purpose.

“So if you don’t mind me asking…What are you? How do you exist? Where’d you get your weapons? Did you make your shell yourself? Who was that guy? Can I see what’s in this bag?”

“AHEM! I’m glad you asked!” Donnie turned his attention towards me, dramatically answering my questions. “We, weird human, are the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (trademark). And yes, my battle shell is indeed Genius Built technology. Made this baby when I was twelve.”

“We’re mutant turtles!-”

“Literally just said that in the name Micheal”

“Still think Mad Dogz was better.”

“-And we were made in Draxum’s lab to take over the world back when he was going through his ‘bad boy’ phase but we ended up being heroes instead. Pretty cool right?”

“Hey, inquiry for you actually, why’d you help us anyway?”

I awkwardly answered Donnie, telling them about my luck of random mutants frequently passing by my window. Apparently some of them were Yōkai, Raph said there was a whole Hidden City of them and a doorway leading to it near where I lived. I was a little surprised at how happy they all looked listening to me talk. Usually I’d be told to shut up by now so this was a nice change of pace.

“What happened to your arm?” Leo pointed to the wound on my forearm.

“Oh. That explains why it felt so sore. I guess I scraped against a wall or something? It’s fine, though, I’ll patch it up when I get home.”

“No way. You helped us, we help you. Let the professional do his magic.”

Leo took out some supplies from his pouch. I sat on the edge and let him work on my arm while the rest - mostly Donnie - info dumped their stories to me. At first it was a way to distract me from the initial sting of my cuts being cleaned but it wasn’t long until they got carried away with their storytelling. They told me about their mutation at the lab, how they found out, their two dads and other human friends. The oozequitoes, as they called them, were what made them and all the other mutants. It’s crazy to think these guys were made as literal military weapons considering they’re now wacky vigilantes.

“Voilà! Look and be amazed!”

“Woah! You weren’t kidding when you said professional.” I admired Leo’s bandaging on my arm. It was clean and neat, tight enough to be secure but not turning my fingers blue or anything. Much better job than I would’ve done.

The full moon was beautiful tonight. Unfortunately, it reminded me where I should be at this time.

“Well, I’m really enjoying talking to guys but I should probably go home. I don’t even wanna know how late it is”

“What? But can’t you stay a little longer?” Mikey, who was practically vibrating this whole time, suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He looked so dejected it made my heart hurt. Raph attempted to comfort him.

“They probably have school Mike. Maybe we can hang out another time, if you’re up for it?”

“REALLY- I mean, yes, yeah. That sounds lovely!” Stay civil, Salena.

“Hey before you go, you should really try one of these.” Leo opened the poison bag and took out a pizza puff? “They are absolutely delicious.”

Poison or not, pizza puff’s a pizza puff.

“NO!“ Unfortunately, Raph slapped the treat out of my hand before I could plop it in my mouth.

We bid our farewells and Mikey handed me a paper with their numbers on it paired with some cute doodles of them. After telling him where to go, Leo opened a portal to my room. I know you’re not supposed to tell strangers your address and it did feel a little weird but a portal was the fastest way home. No way I’m hoofing it this late in the night. I love New York but not that much.

Sitting on my bed now, I observed the blue turtle as he was getting ready to go back. The red stripes around his eyes made me realize he was a red-eared slider, I read about them back when I was six or seven I think.

“Hey Leo?”

“Yeah?”

I smiled. “It was nice running into you again.”

He gave his signature smirk “Funny how life works, ay?”

He waved and fell back into his portal. I closed my eyes for a bit, then grabbed my sketchbook.

Placing Mikey’s doodles on a blank page, I wrote down their respective eye colors.

Green, brown, yellow, blue.

—

Next Chapter | Salena Moni

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katy-l-wood · 2 years

Text

Updated 6/27/2023

I am a queer author and illustrator living in Colorado with my two cats, Rumble--a fluffy gray monster, and Rebel--a tiny black void. On the weekends I run off into the woods where the internet can’t get me. I have a large extended family that manages to frequently be inexplicably bizarre. My ask box is usually open if you want to chat, and here are some important tags for finding your way around my blog (if, ya know, tumblr feels like letting you use them...):

Blog Navigation:

The cats: #Rumble and Rebel

Adventures in the woods: Usually tagged as either #The Cabin or #Colorado or both.

My illustration work: #My Art

My writing in general: #My Writing

Sometimes I like to look at houses for sale. Sometimes I find weird ones, and I like to share: #Weird Real Estate

I have become the tumblr disaster prep person, apparently. So you can find that stuff under: #Disaster Prep (In the process of retagging some stuff so it’ll all be under this tag.)

Where else to find me:

TikTok: @Katy_L_Wood

My Website: https://www.Katy-L-Wood.com

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/KatyLWood

Where to buy my work:

Prints, Keychains, Stickers, and more: https://www.Katy-L-Wood.com/shop

My Projects:

🐎The Pits🐎

Tag: #The Pits

Releasing: October 31st 2023. Pre-orders coming soon!

NA Weird Western. Self-Publishing.

Blurb:

No one goes into the Pits.

No one understands the magic of the Pits.

For those who try, there are consequences.

When Clarabella's girlfriend Emilia goes missing Clarabella tracks down the only person who can help: her outlaw older sibling Royal, who she hasn’t seen in three years.

Royal knows more about the strange magic of the world than anyone, more than they should. Magic Clarabella doesn’t believe in. Not until the path to find Emilia leads deep into the mysterious and magical Pits that stretch along the spine of the continent, forcing her to rethink everything she ever believed. But once Clarabella, Royal, and Royal's gang enter they discover Royal can no longer leave. Now Clarabella has to choose who she loves enough to save: Royal, or Emilia?

⛺Camp Daze⛺

Tag: #Camp Daze

Releasing on Kickstarter soon! Stay tuned for updates.

YA Survival.

Blurb: Conifer was raised to handle the end of the world. Any end of the world. Except this one. She never expected it to all go wrong while she was working at an isolated girls summer camp. With 200 kids suddenly relying on her, she's running out of options and time.

🔥Lie Down in the Ashes🔥

Tag: #Lie Down in the Ashes

YA Survival. Repped by Sara Megibow at K. T. Literary.

When a group of teens accidentally starts a wildfire while out camping their only hope of escape lies with their friend in a stolen, retired firetruck from the mine where he works.

🩸Poison in the Blood🩸

Tags: #Glory is Poison, #Poison in the Blood

Book 1 out now, book 2 coming soon!

New Adult Adventure.

Dustin Lockwood would give anything to find his little sister ten years after she was kidnapped when their family was on the run, fleeing a coven that wanted them dead, or worse.

Shae Lockwood, living it up as a rare human actress riding the coattails of her parents' former fame, would give anything not to be found.

Get all the buy links, and read the first three chapters free, here.

Newsletter

I have a newsletter you can sign up to by going to my website and scrolling to the bottom. You'll be the first to hear about new projects, new Kickstarters, and shop sales.

#About Me #Long Post #Blog Navigation

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himedachi · 4 months

Text

#himedachi ; an indie ( unaffiliated ) & highly selective roleplaying blog of original & canon characters, est. 2015 & remade in 2024 . as written by KARIN . currently using beta editor . minors & personal blogs dni . please read rules below the cut before following !!

a character study and FOCUS in ✨ #girlbossing ✨ ORIGINALS. renge & tsuruhime & aika/megohime & tsuyuko & killian (WIP) CANONS. yoimiya (GI) & seele (HSR) & kasuga (senbasa) & ren kougyoku (magi: the labyrinth of magic)

001. MAIN! as stated above, this blog is generally fandomless & unaffiliated (& i wish to keep it that way). my interactions are selective & activity in general will be somewhat sporadic aka medium to low. if i follow you (first or back), it means i want to interact with you, but please softblock if you decide to unfollow. selective means i only respond to interactions made by my mutuals, though. i'm very oc & crossover friendly so don't be afraid to hmu!

002. MUN. you can call me KARIN / RIN (she/her). both mun (25+) and muses (18+) are all of age. i'm located in GMT +7 so expect my online hours to be weird in general for people outside the timezone. one thing to keep in mind is that i won’t be interacting with minors so if you're not comfy with it, feel free to unfollow. i also happened to had a long time hiatus (for about 5 yrs if you must know) in the tumblr rp scene so i might miss out a thing or two around here. apologies.

003. IC =/= OOC. in character does not equal out of character. don't let my in-character interactions bleed out to how you'd treat me as a mun.

004. NSFW CONTENT. i am 25+ so nsfw content is not exactly something taboo around this place, but actual explicit nsfw roleplay itself will be something of a rarity or even not happening at all with only implied at best. however, my point of not interacting with minors still stands.

005. INTERACTIONS. i will sometimes reblog ask prompts (if you wish to reblog please kindly reblog directly from the source!) or post interaction calls so feel free to make use of them to trigger interactions! if we're mutuals, feel free to make use the ask feature too. i'm also perfectly fine with iconless threads as well!

006. DRAMA-FREE. i'm not gonna participate in any drama in my dash & i'm honestly too old to humor that. we're all mostly grown adults here, so i'm sure we can judge the situation at hand for ourselves.

007. TRIGGER WARNINGS. i put trigger warnings by using the #tw: inserttriggerhere tag . do let me know if you want something tagged accordingly.

008. SHIPPINGS. most of my characters are multiship & available for shipping based on character chemistry. some exceptions do exist, like megohime, where she is only likely to be shipped with certain interpretations of her historical spouse. however, please ask me further for details if you want to, i do not bite! flirting with my characters are a-ok (please do), but don't assume they'll be in for shipping immediately unless discussed prior to our interaction.

009. BIG NO(S). i do not tolerate racism/sexism/homophobia/transphobia, those are not welcome in my space. block button will be used liberally for this very purpose. apart of that, godmodding/metagaming is an obvious no.

010. REPLY PACING. as mentioned, my activity is generally sporadic (adulting stuff gets into me, basically). my pace is "i reply when i have the mood for it" pace aka i can reply in like 15 minutes in one sitting after you post or it'll take up a few days... with that said, practice patience with me & please don't feel obliged to match my pace! i'm perfectly fine with waiting. i also occasionally drop & it's fine as well for you to do so - i'm always open for reviving if needed c:

011. IMPORTANT TO NOTE. my depiction of canon characters is generally compliant to what the canon offers, but the degree of divergency may vary to each characters & headcanons are usually always present. if you follow me solely to rp with only certain muses, do lower down your expectations as my focus is often scattered all over.

012. SPOILERS. as i have muses from currently ongoing series, this blog may contain spoilers by nature, but i usually tag spoilers that are considered recent (<1 month release, 2-week spoiler tagging rule applies)

&. LAST BUT NOT LEAST! mutuals can ask me for my twitter/x or discord if you want to talk outside of tumblr ims! cheers!

credits;

dash icon by kittyshcherbatsky psd by melinoegraphics & potatorecs & phasmophobie icon bases are taken from x0401x, bladeworks-icons, melodiousicons, yumis-mangaicons & other various resources.

#▶┊ BENEATH THE MASK. ( ooc )#PINNED POST. do not interact

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the-haunted-office · 8 months

Text

Rules

⭐ General

DON’T PANIC!

This is multi-fandom blog, but some primary influences you may find are The Stanley Parable, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and the works of Stephen King, as well as anything horror. I routinely poke fun at tropes, themes, and other elements of storytelling while attempting to introduce elements of horror.

My blog is part roleplay blog, part writing blog.

For the writing part of my blog, anybody is welcome to follow. I welcome anybody who finds themself interested in my muses and the little world I've built for them. If you want to read along and send in asks and anything like that, that's all fine and I am happy to have you.

For the roleplaying part of my blog, it is Private and Mutuals Only - this means that we must be mutuals to roleplay together. You are welcome to follow me first, but I will check out your blog to make sure we are a good fit before I decide to follow you back. If I choose not to interact with you, please don’t take it personally. I have my reasons for being private, and I choose to be private so I can keep my rping space fun and comfortable for myself. Please don’t let that stop you from inquiring, though! Odds are if you’re 27+ and open to rping crossovers and with OCs, I’ll rp with you.

That said, I prefer to rp with folks closer to my own age, and so to interact you must be at least 27 years of age. If you are under 27, I'm sorry, this is purely for my own comfort and isn't anything against you personally. I do have partners who I interact with who are under 27, but I we've been interacting since before I put the age minimum in place.

I’m not a terribly strict person, so things on this blog will probably not be terribly strict either! I’m just here to have fun. Mostly I don’t take things too seriously - so most things will be lighthearted and will trend on the silly side. I do love to write dark humor, though, so there will probably be some of that. Anything that is a serious trigger, I will try to tag appropriately (I sometimes forget though, so please forgive me! Please message me if I miss something in this regard and I will fix it).

I’ll interact with muses from pretty much any fandom. The only caveat is that if your muse is from a fandom I am unfamiliar with, I may need some information from you in order to understand things better. Otherwise, bring in your little ponies and your stubborn test subjects and your space-exploration team! And, oh yes, your OC’s and self-inserts. Bring them all!

The only fandom I will NOT interact with is Harry Potter. No offense meant to those who have HP muses, but I just cannot support HP or its fandom in any capacity.

There are at least two ways to play here! You can send your muse through “The Story” and have one of my Narrators narrate for your muse. Or we can just interact. Whichever you like. Most of the time these days it’s normal interactions, but my muses love to narrate stories so they’d be happy to do so.

Please note: This blog contains dark themes such as depression, anxiety, death, horror, and occasional gore. HOWEVER! I will include content warnings (such as “cw death”, “cw images of horror”, etc.) and usually include anything particularly graphic or descriptive under a cut. A good deal of the stuff I roleplay here is silly humor, and I don’t intend on including anything particularly horrific in RP threads without discussing it with you first. If you have any questions, please reach out to me! It is very important to me that I don’t make you uncomfortable or mistakenly set off any triggers.

⭐ The Mun

I, the Mun, am in my 30s.

I am also a mother to a nine-year-old and I babysit my baby nephew during the week. Sometimes I get very busy, but I do try to stay as active as I can.

I go by the name of Thursday! My muse Thursday started off as a self-insert but she broke away from me and ran off into the sunset. She decided to keep my name, but we are both completely different people.

I rp only on Tumblr. While I am comfortable with chatting and plotting on Discord, I am uncomfortable with roleplaying on Discord. This goes for one-on-one rp's, private servers, small servers, large servers, just any rping on Discord. I prefer to keep all roleplaying to Tumblr, please.

Please also remember that Mun ≠ Muse. The thoughts, words, actions, feelings, and opinions of my muses are their own - not mine.

⭐ NO METAGAMING

This means using your personal real-life knowledge to influence your character’s decisions. It honestly takes the fun out of roleplaying for someone’s muse to “know” everything and always make the “right” decision because of it, especially if it’s to manufacture or kindle a relationship or manipulate things in your favor.

PLEASE NOTE: The exception to this is if we agree to breaking the fourth wall (due to the nature of The Stanley Parable or another fandom) or crack threads. Information obtained via ask memes is okay! I'm also okay with muses who can read minds or who are super intelligent and geniuses at reading others - I just need to know about this before we start a thread.

⭐ NO GODMODDING

This means assuming the actions of my muse or actively controlling my muse. If it’s something small like opening a door, that’s okay, but assuming my muse will go along with every action your muse is saying/doing without protest is unacceptable.

⭐ Harm towards muses

If your muse is about to get into a situation where they can be hurt or killed, I will reach out to you first before I reply to our thread. I will never harm your muse without permission first, so please extend that same courtesy to me.

PLEASE NOTE: Some of my muses are more dangerous and violent than others - and a couple of them are intentionally overpowered. If you are uncomfortable interacting with these muses, please let me know!

⭐ Replies

I try to reply within 1-3 days, but sometimes I get busy and can’t keep to that time frame. However, if it has been a week or longer, please feel free to reach out to me. I may have overlooked your reply or didn’t get the notification. Some threads are easier for me to reply to than others and so those may take longer, but I will answer as soon as I can!

On the flip side of the things, I will never ask or remind you about a reply, thread, plot, or anything like that - regardless of how long it's been - unless we have discussed that you want me to.

I understand that roleplaying is a hobby, so if at any time for any reason you want to drop a thread or anything, that's fine. You don't need to tell me. I do ask, though, that if something in thread has made you uncomfortable, that you do please tell me so that I can correct myself going forward. I understand that I can't force you to do this, but your comfort is important to me and I'd really like to make sure I don't accidentally cross any boundaries going forward.

For the most part I will roughly match length for length, although sometimes my post lengths will run longer or shorter. I don't expect anyone to match the length of my longer replies, but please give me enough to work with. A couple of short paragraphs with some dialogue and descriptions should be enough. Most importantly, please remember the all-important "yes, and-" aspect of roleplaying. If there isn't enough for me to work with, then I will likely drop the thread.

⭐ Shipping

While I do enjoy shipping, it is not the main focus of my blog. If your primary interest in roleplaying is shipping and you want to ship right off the bat, then it might be best for you to seek interactions elsewhere - this isn't anything against you or shipping, it's just that I'd rather us both be up front about it and not waste each other's time.

That said, if you're here for all other kinds of interactions and you get an idea for a ship or one starts to develop between our muses, I'm all for it!

My blog is multiship. That means that my that all of muses may be shipped with more than one character and from different verses, AUs, or even in the same verse.

I prefer to ship with chemistry.

I also prefer to let things develop naturally through rp threads, but I am always open to hearing your thoughts and ideas if you have a ship in mind. I'm perfectly willing to work towards a ship via plotting if the chemistry is there. I will always be 100% honest about whether or not I think the ship dynamic would work.

My muses want to get to know your muse and form bonds with them, but more often than not this takes time. Ships with my muses tend to be slow burn and don't happen within a thread or two. If you are looking for expedient ships, then ships with my muses aren't for you. If you're willing to take the time and patience to get to know my muses, then let's ship!

Also, please don’t ship with my muses just to collect ships or if you don’t intend on ever developing the ship with my muse. I have had too many people want to ship and then never do anything and it’s very frustrating.

Please be mindful of my muse’s ages when interacting with them! I will not allow Anons or ANYONE who is a minor to interact romantically and/or sexually with them, even in jest. It’s inappropriate and makes me uncomfortable.

⭐ Plotting

I am open to plotting! Usually I let things unfold as they go, but I do occasionally have plots running and little situations for my muses to get into. If you want to be involved or want my muses to be involved with your plots, feel free to ask!

If it's a plot that I am running on my blog and you have chosen to have your muses involved, please understand that I will keep the plot running at my pace. Others may be involved as well and aside from that I'd like to keep my overarching plots moving at the pace that I set for them.

If it's a plot we have going between us and our muses that we have worked on together, then I am happy to take things at whatever pace you like. I'll reply as you are available whether it's days or weeks or months out. I won't ask you about replies or dropped threads or anything like that unless we've discussed that you want me to.

Please do not feel obligated to participate in my plots. Also, if we are plotting and I pitch a plot to you and you don’t want to go with it, you are welcome to tell me no and we'll move on.

⭐ Trigger warnings/content warnings

I will tag the following items as indicated below. They’ll be tagged as CW - for example: CW blood. If you have any particular triggers, squicks, or things that make you feel uncomfortable, please tell me so that I may add it to this list and remember to tag them for you!

animal cruelty animal death animal injuries blood body horror death dermatology (talk of pimples, blackheads, cysts, etc.) eye horror gore horror (generally speaking, this will be used for posts that include particularly frightening content like you’d expect to see in a horror movie/book/etc.) infidelity mind control pet death pregnancy religion (posts including things such as demons, ouija boards, etc.) self harm self harm mention (used if self harm is mentioned as a past thing or muses talking about it) slugs snails snakes (pictures of) suicide suicide mention (used if suicide is mentioned as a past thing or muses talking about it) terminal illness

Suggestive content will just be tagged as suggestive.

⭐ Stuff I am NOT comfortable with roleplaying

Smut. I am not really into rping smutty stuff. Suggestive or dirty humor, implying things, flirting, mentioning it, saying it happened, asking questions about my muses’ sex life, and suchlike is all fine - just nothing overly explicit, please. I don’t mind other people rping smut and following those who do; I am just uncomfortable rping it myself. If in any case an rp starts going in that direction, I’ll have it fade to black or skip ahead.

Excessive violence towards children. It’s okay if it’s part of a muse’s past, and in threads I am also okay with some angst and general childhood things like skinned knees and the like. But I am not comfortable rping actual threads where there is excessive harm being done towards children.

Toxic/abusive relationships, especially ones being handled like it’s romantic or sexy. I don’t find abuse romantic and I will not portray it that way. If you do, that’s fine, I’d just prefer not to be a part of it. Thank you.

⭐ Stuff I am comfortable with

Violence? Sure. Blood and gore, let the viscera ooze forth. Cursing? Fuck yeah! Crude humor? Of course! General horror - definitely!

⭐ Blocking

I don't block people easily, except in cases of racism, homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, pedophilia, etc. If I have an issue, I will come talk to you about it first and give warnings prior to blocking. I much prefer to talk about things and try to work things out before blocking.

If I find you’ve blocked me, though, then I will also block you so your blog doesn’t keep coming up as a suggested blog.

I ask that if you truly don’t want to rp or talk ooc with me anymore, please hard block me instead of soft blocking. Tumblr has a glitch that randomly makes you unfollow people sometimes, so if you soft block me I’ll assume it was the glitch and follow you again. Hard blocking will communicate to me that you don’t wish to interact any further with me at all and I’ll get the message.

And finally...

⭐ Communication

This is a big one for me.

I do my best not to cross anyone's boundaries, but I am not a perfect person and I will make mistakes, as we all do. It’s important to me that if you have any issues with anything that you please tell me, so that I can do better going forward. It doesn’t matter how big or small - please bring it to my attention. Don’t let it fester. It is always better to talk about it than to try to shrug it off. I will do the same - if I have any issues, I will bring them to your attention.

If at any time you want to stop writing together, I understand. Sometimes muses fall out and even mun chemistry can go sour or you lose interest for one reason or another. All I ask is that if you truly don’t wish to rp together anymore, please let’s decide to peacefully part ways. Please don’t force yourself to keep replying to me out of a sense of obligation. I would rather us go our separate ways than for you to feel obligated to reply to me when you aren’t into it anymore.

If all of that sounds good to you, go ahead and drop your muse into my ask box! Or shoot me a PM. I can even write up a starter for you. However you’d like to start!

#rules #new post with the same rules for better formatting! x3

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skitariiposting · 1 year

Note

So what's fame like if I can ask

Uh... I 'unno. I guess there's the literal definition, but I'm assuming you'd rather hear my own personal outlook on it. If not, just ignore this answer and Google "fame definition," it'll do a better job than me trying to define it off the top of my head.

Honestly, just being an obscure internet figure or having a cult classic following is perfect. Even if its a small circle, just having people who enjoy what I do and enjoy having me as a part of their communities is fine with me. Heck, having people feel like they're a part of the skitariiposting community, if that even exists, would be amazing.

At the end of the day, I want to leave enough of an imprint on people that after their first interaction with me, when they see me next in a reply section, or a reblog or something, they want to talk with me again. I try to interact with everyone who talks to me, not to garner attention or become known as "the guy who's nice on the internet only to become famous off of it" but because I want to be genuine. I've been on the other end of hearing crickets when trying to reach out to someone you admire. I know the feeling. I don't want anyone to have that feeling when interacting with me.

Am I perfect at it? No. I'm sure I've already broke this trend. If I miss you, it's likely due to my ADHD or my goblin brain. Sometimes, I think about responding to something and end up convincing myself I actually had and not actually responding. Sometimes I get distracted midway through responding and save it to my drafts and then sit back down and completely blanking it out of my brain what I was doing before. If I miss you, it my fault, not yours. Feel free to reach out again and it'll come back to the forefront of my brain and I'll start responding again. (And usually apologize for missing the first one)

So, long, long story short. My goal for fame is this: I want to be the Keanu Reeves of Tumblr. Not like how reddit worships Keanu or as rich or anything, but like how if you saw Keanu in real life and walked up to him, he's wearing sweat pants and a baseball cap. If you say hi to him, he's nice and chill and has a conversation with you about his motorcycle. If you ask him for a pic, he'll take one and ask if you could tag him in it so he can save it.

I just want to be a recognizable, friendly face for everyone. I want to be a bonfire from darksouls, where you've waded through a rough day and open your feed and see the little red hood in my profile picture and feel happy knowing that if you reached out to me, I'll talk back :)

I hope you love yourselves as much as I love you, thank you guys for everything you've done for me so far and I hope it keeps going for a long time.

#ask-itarii #skitposting

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scribbleseas · 2 years

Text

The Indignant Pawn, Chapter X: The First Salt Shaker

Description: You are Y/n Y/l/n- formerly known as Princess Helena, the runaway princess.

You're an assassin for hire who only agrees to find the worst of London's criminals at the business end of your knife; until a mysterious woman hires you to end the likes of Ciel Phantomhive, the King of the Underworld. You find yourself trading your weapons for your abandoned family crest in order to infiltrate his home as none other than Princess Marie-Louise, your twin sister. What's to happen when you find that the young Earl is more than a callous businessman?

OVERALL STORY WARNINGS: sexual assault (once in the prologue), objectification, misogyny, death, detailed description of blood/gore, detailed description of murder, lying, impersonation, theft, weapons, detailed panic attacks, symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: poison, poisoning attempt, thallium sulfate

Author’s Note: I’m just as surprised this chapter is out so soon after the last one lol. Thank you for the notes and the ask! I get pumped over every single Tumblr notification! (By the way, Cornelia really is an 8th-generation New Yorker, I painstakingly did the math.)

ps. I asked my friend why our MC here is so bitchy and the response was: “it’s because she’s written by you.”

Sorry guys :)

Happy Reading!

- Dan

⇠ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ��

. . .

MARCH 17TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

“I still find it rather difficult to believe that you consult your city’s Undertaker to solve these sorts of mysteries,” you commented dubiously, eyeing the grim storefront as if you had never seen it in your life. You knew you would have a complicated day when Lord Phantomhive told you he was making the aforementioned visit. Apparently, he had a reluctant allyship with the eccentric Undertaker, just as you did. You demanded to go with him to control the damage the odd man would undoubtedly do to your mission.

“He worked with the previous Earl; sometimes the man manages to have some use to me as well,” the Earl explained, scanning the street around you defensively, ready to pull out his gun and shoot. Rightfully, he was wary of being outside in public with you after the recent estate skirmish. He made that clear when he fought you tooth and nail for the right to accompany him at the breakfast table.

“What would an Undertaker possibly know?” You raised an eyebrow in challenge, but before he could explain again (you were sure to inquire several times to emphasize the absurdity of the trip), Sebastian re-emerged from the store. The butler seemed rather pleased with himself, opening the door to a laughing Undertaker.

The man’s ghoulish-pale skin was alight with a flush made from exertion. You couldn’t see his eyes under his mess of bangs, but you imagined they were screwed shut with pleasure as he relied on the counter for stability. His laughter could have caused a major earthquake.

Seeing you, his rapture increased. Between his manic laughter, he managed: “Guten Morgen, Eure Hoheit.” (Good Morning, Your Highness).

You rolled your eyes. Of course, the Undertaker would proceed with his usual jokes, razing you for your royal lineage and how it contrasted the way your life played out. However, if he opted not to sell you out, you would be tentatively grateful.

“Lovely to meet you,” you bit the inside of your lip, silently daring the Undertaker to so much as hint that you were lying. Before he could pester you with unnecessary questions, Lord Phantomhive intervened.

“Undertaker. Do you know anything of a young hitwoman called Y/n? She shares Her Highness’s face as the former Princess Helena of Schleswig-Holstein,” the Earl gestured to you. In the poor lighting, you tilted your head upwards to give the mortician a better look at your face. “She went missing in 1883 and hasn’t been seen since.”

“What an astute thing to ask, my Lord,” the Undertaker giggled, taking the movement to invade your personal space. His veiny hand took hold of your chin, and he moved it as he wished to make a show of inspecting your features. His sharp, almost feminine nails pushed little crescents into your skin.

You scowled in response but allowed the Undertaker to do as he wished. He could betray you at any moment; it would be unwise to displease him.

“I suppose, yes, I do have business with a young woman called Y/n Y/ln. She’s just the spitting image of your Princess here,” his smile was shark-like as usual. You struggled to maintain control of your expression, forcing it to remain characteristically surprised and worried instead of irritated. And irate. You imagined what it might have been like to sink your dagger into his chest.

The Undertaker faced you, likely looking into your eyes from under his bangs. “She passes through here more than you might think.” There were dozens of different ways you could kill him where he stood.

“What business could a hitwoman have with you?” Lord Phantomhive asked, sparing you a quick glance. He gauged the degree to which the information disturbed you. The question did make sense; he was a mortician whose clientele was already deceased. You were a contract killer who made living criminals that way.

“I beautify the bodies, and she connects with those who grieve those passed souls,” the Undertaker answered vaguely. You prayed (to no god in particular) that he disclosed all of the information he was willing to share with the Earl.

“In other words…” Lord Phantomhive paused to mull over the mortician’s response. You could see him thinking, the wheels spinning in his mind as he slowly bridged the two points.

“The wrongfully murdered, the trafficked, the missing,” Sebastian said, “all of them require a burial. She meets those who seek revenge.” If you weren’t mistaken, you might have noticed a grudging respect flash in the head butler’s mahogany eyes.

“Could you provide us with the name of her most recent client?” Lord Phantomhive asked, and your stomach plummeted to the bottom of the River Thames in response. Even if the Undertaker spoke about Doña, he knew nothing of her. While he told you she was one of the most hilarious women to pass through his shop, she was too cautious to even provide her real name to him. Furthermore, she seemed to move house each time you met with her. There was no tracking an address.

“No, but it is flattering you ask,” the Undertaker sighed with a flourish. “Miss Y/l/n likes to deal with her business directly. I hardly know where she resides; ever an elusive one.”

Now that was a lie. The Undertaker was one of the only living souls who knew where you presided—until he lent your address to Dona and her minions. At least he was somewhat on your side.

However, you could tell Lord Phantomhive was dubious. He frowned pensively like he’d lost a bet. He studied the mortician. Sometimes Lord Phantomhive indeed reminded you of a Guard Dog, considering the Undertaker’s words and trying to sniff out the subtle lies throughout. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.

Much to your relief, Phantomhive didn’t attempt to challenge the mortician’s words. Instead, he nodded once. “Right. Well, then, we had better start searching.” He was never one to show gratitude. After all, he had paid for the knowledge, even if the said currency was laughter provided by his butler.

“Of course, my Lord,” the Undertaker agreed, “It would be a joy to match you and your sister in identical coffins, Your Highness,” he smiled wistfully. Once again, he came too close. This time, you side-stepped closer to Lord Phantomhive. Naturally, the Undertaker noticed and laughed once, deranged enough for the nobleman to excuse it. You shot him a seething look over your shoulder before you crossed the door’s threshold, to which he smiled in response.

. . .

The carriage ride back to the Phantomhive Estate felt longer than the trip into the city.

You fiddled with your hands, twisting your fingers, thumbing at the palms of your hands. Thankfully, your hands started to callus protectively, previously raw from overexerting yourself on the harp. Your satin gloves helped keep them from exposure in public and, furthermore, conceal the gash that ran up your forearm and around your tricep. The sutures were still healing, causing a stinging wave of complaint to roll up your arm whenever you moved it.

“I will find your sister, Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive said, figuring you were agitated due to your sister Helena’s confirmed existence. Attempting to assuage your agitation was a nice enough gesture, but your worries were much more complicated than some inter-sibling awkwardness. Not that he was much equipped to help with either of those matters anyway.

You needed to kill him soon. He was getting too close to the truth. If he found you out, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. And that would come after torturing you for information. You heard enough about the Queen’s Guard Dog to know that in the past, even if you were unaware that it was just one of many titles Lord Phantomhive possessed.

“Truthfully, my Lord, I’m not sure what will happen if you do,” you said, creating a vulnerability that would hopefully push Lord Phantomhive to retreat. “If she is a hitwoman, then she is a criminal. And she will need to be executed. I doubt my grandmother would pardon such horrific acts.”

“Perhaps if she helps expel the threat-” you silenced Lord Phantomhive with a weary look.

“You are familiar with the sorts of criminals she asks you to rid of.”

His lips pressed into a grim line. Of course, the Queen asked him to expel murderers in the past; Jack the Ripper, the Noah’s Arc Circus cast. “Her Majesty is wise enough to consider her family and the state in equal parts.”

“Would you truly consider that wisdom?” Your words hung in the air, and you were quiet for the rest of the ride. The silence lingered for the majority of your lunch. You pushed your beef stew around the bowl to Sebastian’s disdain. Your stomach churned too much to facilitate lunch, as much as you craved to. As much as he unsettled you, Sebastian was a master in the kitchen.

“Your Highness, are you quite certain you are well enough for the engagement dinner tomorrow evening?” Lord Phantomhive changed the subject, asking for both your injury and your anxieties. He asked about your arm more than you thought about it.

“Yes,” you said wearingly, exhausted by the sheer number of times you’ve answered the question. Although you were in no mood to be cordial to a dining table full of strangers, you needed the opportunity to kill Lord Phantomhive. Previously, you wanted to wait until you completed your mission, but he gave you no choice. Instead, Doña was giving you no choice. Your face soured at the thought of her as you remembered the new letter she sent that morning.

You had to visit her tonight; you refused to pay for your own thallium sulfate. And that was on the assumption you didn’t kill her first.

“Genuinely, Lord Phantomhive, I am. I can handle a dinner party,” you assured him, despite your stormy expression. Your words were clipped. At least he knew not to press. “Regardless, Lady Elizabeth might show you to an early grave if you don’t host it.: He knew you weren’t wrong.

The real question was: could he handle an engagement dinner?

. . .

“Doña! Open this door before I knock it down myself!” You yelled, knocking on the door of the townhouse she specified in her letter. Your good arm hit the door with all the strength you could manage, fueled by your anger. \She was the reason you were in this predicament: half able to defend yourself and nearly exposed in front of the Earl Phantomhive and the rest of society.

The moment Andrea opened the door for you, you pushed past her. “Where is she?” you demanded, distantly hearing the servant tell you that her mistress was in her study. Doña’s baby started crying in Andrea’s skinny arms, upset from your yelling. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“First door on the right- up the stairs!” Andrea directed you before quickly turning away to settle the infant.

“Doña!” You sent her study door flying open, applying too much strength to twisting the knob and pushing the door open. The knob broke a dent into the plaster wall.

Doña regarded you, her face serene as if she was just blinking awake from a comforting dream. Her smile was fake, of course, pleased enough to see you so livid. Her umber irises seemed consumed by her dark pupils, allowing her to match the part of a soulless, Machiavellian monster. She was poised in her office chair like a queen.

“Y/n,” the woman greeted, standing behind her desk, treating it like a barricade that would keep her safe from the murderous glint in your eyes. She made no effort to stand near you, wary of the hand that sat in your pocket bag. While pocket bags were only small pouches within a woman's dress's skirt, they were big enough to hold a knife. A murder weapon, if you were so inclined. And you were. “You’ve made it back to me. I’m pleased,” she said, her voice as warm as a glacier. “Would it be presumptuous of me to assume that this means you have killed the Earl?” her grin was venomous.

“No, I have not,” your expression soured, but your gloom lifted somewhat, seeing her face darken. “You see, I’ve recently been injured in an assault. Do you know what could have caused something so improbable ?” You asked rhetorically, pulling up your dress sleeve and removing your glove to show the grave line of healing stitches. The wound looked about the same as it did four nights prior; a myriad of sickly yellows and bruise blues. The flesh held together by the stitching was paler than the rest and slightly red. The protective layer of petroleum jelly made it shine in the light.

“¡Uy caracoles!” She gaped at your arm, intrigued by the damaged site and the intricate work Sebastian put into saving it. It would have been amputated only a few short decades ago as doctors feared gangrene’s deadly onslaught. “Let me see, come closer,” she demanded, but you stood your ground fiercely. Knowing her, she would sink her pointed nails into the sutures simply to note the results.

“Stay away,” you ordered, “you caused this. You betrayed me.”

Doña had the nerve to look offended, “I betrayed you? No, I motivated you. I gave your location to those connected to your past…targets, and they took care of the rest. And now, I imagine, Phantomheave thinks Princess Helena is alive. And a step closer to realizing that she’s closer than he thinks. You mustn't forget, Y/n, you told me you would have this child Earl killed in a week! You betrayed me first!”

“How did I betray you?” You raised your voice, tempted to take out your knife and point it at her. Somehow, you resisted, digging your nails into your palm. “This is a complicated mission! His butler Michaelis- he catches bullets!” You said, although Doña’s face told you she thought you were lying, you said. Her red lips parted in a dubious smile as if you were a child and she was about to tell you that Santa Claus wasn’t real.

“Y/n. That simply is not possible,” Doña said.

“I thought the same until I was nearly shot by one of the men you sent!” You replied hotly.

“I sent no one. I supplied your location, and your enemies came to the estate by their own means!” Doña’s smile disappeared, replaced by a scowl that made her look decades senior to twenty-five. “Is it my doing if dozens of powerful individuals wish you dead? Certainly not.”

“Fine,” you took a long inhale, clenching and unclenching your fist. “I will not waste my breath arguing with you. I need thallium sulfate.”

Doña smiled once more, satisfied with your surrender. You could guess her following words from her salacious smirk before she said them. You cringed in advance.

“Thallium? Why? Have you found yourself bedded with some scoundrel?” Besides being a deadly poison, small quantities of the chemical could be used to treat diseases such as syphilis and gonorrhea. And Doña simply loved joking at your expense.

You stared at her, willing to kill her for the insult. Instead, you retorted, “I don’t require it for the same purposes it’s in your possession.”

“Peace, Y/n, I play with your stoicism,” Doña pursed her crimson lips with disappointment. She rolled her eyes, irritated with your impatience.

“As do I,” you answered placidly, despite your stoic expression. “Now, do you possess thallium sulfate, or must I wait for you to procure it?”

Doña smiled as if you asked her for a cup of tea rather than a lethal poison. She was the most capricious woman in the world, you were sure. No one’s disposition could transition from stormy to winsome quite like hers.

. . .

MARCH 18TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

Descending the main staircase in the manor, you were met with a decent cluster of new faces. Clearly, there was the Midford family; Lady Elizabeth stood at her brother’s side, a step away from the middle-aged couple, their parents. On her brother’s other side were his fiancée and her father.

Richard and Cornelia Burton, you recalled.

“Your Highness, might I introduce the Head Order of the Garter and Marquess Alexis Leon Midford and the Marchioness Francis Midford. The Lord and Lady Scotney,” Lord Phantomhive opted to introduce his uncle and aunt first, given that they possessed the highest titles. Lady Elizabeth, with narrowly reserved excitement, waited beside her mother. She grinned at her fiancé, who stood to your side. After all, those below your station could not simply introduce themselves to you. Though not by a lot, your status outmatched Marquess and Marchioness. Not to mention, it certainly outweighed a foreign fiancée and her monopolist father.

You nodded stoically, allowing them to speak first. This particular protocol was hardwired into the back of your mind. No amount of time you spent within London’s middle class could erase your childhood governess’ teachings. Your knuckles stung, remembering the sharp pain of a ruler.

“We are pleased to meet you, Your Highness,” Lady Scotney said, descending into a shallow curtsey. The movement was swift and poised, the perfect depth— not too shallow that it was disrespectful, but not deep enough to make her rising clumsy. In synchrony, Lord Scotney nodded his head. Wisely, he made no effort to reach for your hand. He and his daughter wore matching grins.

Out of mild fondness for their daughter, you extended your non-dominant hand for Lord Scotney to shake. Extending your dominant arm would have made you grimace. Not even your resilience could hide such pain. You bit the inner part of your lip, tense as a bowstring.

“It is my honor to be invited to such a…joyous occasion,” you replied, picking your words with the taciturnity of a military strategist.

“Thank you for joining us, Your Highness!” Lady Elizabeth simpered, still more demure than you would have guessed for such an eventful evening. “This is my brother, Edward,” she gestured to the young man beside Lord Scotney. The siblings shared the same set of sparkling eyes and blond hair but opposite dispositions. Where Lady Elizabeth’s permanent smile faced you like a warm ray of sunlight, Lord Edward’s expression was politely detached, lips set in a grim line. He glowered at Lord Phantomhive before forcing his face into neutrality.

His handshake was identical to his father’s, with a firm grip, two shakes, and copious eye contact.

Next, you focused on Richard Burton. There was wise confidence that radiated from him. Besides Lady Elizabeth, he was self-assured in his measured posture most at ease. A playful glint sparkled in his hazel eyes. He looked like an accomplished man, clean-shaven with charisma, locked and loaded like a weapon.

This was a secure and intelligent man, a businessman who saw many successes.

“Richard Burton, Your… Highness,” he introduced himself, taking you by surprise. Clearly, your title felt awkward for him to say. However, you allowed him to shake your hand, appreciating his forwardness. A proper royal would have indeed admonished him for being so presumptuous. “And my daughter, Cornelia,” he gestured to the short brunette.

Cornelia’s arm was interlaced with Lord Edward’s, but she released it to curtsy. Hers couldn’t match the poise Lady Scotney exuded, but she didn’t have the same decades of training. America had no nobility, and others would be curtsying to her if it did.

It was a respectable attempt, and you were in no mood to create a suffocating atmosphere so early into the night. After curtsying to you, she curtsied to Lord Phantomhive. This attempt was slightly less floundering.

“I’m really honored to meet you both. Lord Phantomhive, you have a lovely manor here,” Cornelia said, grinning from ear to ear, an interesting contrast to Lord Edward’s stare, poisoned with grudging respect.

“Please, do call me Ciel. We’re to be family in a few short weeks,” Lord Phantomhive’s smile was manufactured like a toy in one of his factories. But that wasn’t for the guests to notice. Such was for you to see, staring straight through his facade while yours was as thick as fortified armor. Impenetrable.

Cornelia giggled, exchanging a pleased look with her father.

Lord Scotany pulled the Earl into a rib-crushing embrace. You fought a smile, finding yet another resemblance between him and his exuberant daughter. “Ah, my nephew, you have grown so tall,” he continued, complimenting Phantomhive’s success, his growth spurt. “You’re almost as tall as me, I swear!”

Although Lady Scotany admonished him, her pale blue eyes sparkled. For her relation to Lord Phantomhive, they didn’t look very much alike; where the Earl’s eye was a deep, sapphic blue and his hair nearly raven, Lady Scotany’s eyes looked like piercing shards of ice. Her hair was cool gray, slicked back neatly.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but look at him! He’s the spitting image of Vincent and Rachel.”

Lord Phantomhive’s composure crumbled— not significantly, but enough for you to recognize. He flinched, swallowing down a pained look.

“Thank you, Lord Scotany,” the Earl’s response was hesitant.

. . .

The dining table was a dull affair for you.

At one end, Lady Elizabeth and Cornelia gushed over the wedding details: her dress, the venue, the food, the guests. You half listened, although the girls tried their hardest to engage you.

On your other side, Lord Phantomhive politely entertained Lord and Lady Scotney, their son, and Mr. Burton. He provided vague updates about his company and how Funtom Enterprises was looking to expand its interests. Expertly, he dodged questions about your situation, although you knew he trusted them.

“And Your Highness, if you don’t mind my asking: what of your engagement with His Highness Prince Aribert of Anhalt?” Lady Elizabeth asked, likely expecting some good news, given her hopeful look. Cornelia brightened as well, smiling wider if such a feat was possible. Elizabeth’s question silenced the other side of the table.

Internally, you wanted to throttle her.

Instead, you smiled, but purposely, it didn’t reach your eyes. “I am unsure. I fear my parents may release him from the agreement. We were supposed to be married this month,” you admitted. Marie would hide her melancholy in front of strangers. She would find a way to retain her pride.

As Lady Elizabeth began to apologize, you shrugged, intervening smoothly. “But that is only speculation, really. He did send me a lovely valentine on the 14th,” you recounted, “it was a pair of exquisite emerald earrings.” Instead, one of Aribert’s attendants picked the expensive jewelry to send to you.

That seemed to satisfy the table. Lady Elizabeth clasped her hands together, a dreamy expression clouding her porcelain features, “that’s just so adorable. Don’t you just love it when men pick beautiful things out? Ciel got me this necklace for my birthday two years ago!”

Lady Elizabeth gestured to the white choker around her neck. In the center of the soft band, there was a pearl pendant. It was perfectly centered between her collarbones, glowing in the light. At every instance you saw her, Lady Elizabeth wore that necklace. Now you understood why. The realization pulled at your stomach, and your fingers clenched into fists under the table.

You struggled to think of an appropriate response, but thankfully, Lord Edward handled that burden for you. After all, there was no way Lord Phantomhive picked that necklace by himself. It had to be his meticulous butler.

The thought was a foreign comfort to you.

“You mean to tell us that’s why you’re always wearing that necklace?” Her brother’s aghast voice asked rhetorically. He eyed both his sister and Lord Phantomhive, as if they had committed an unforgivable scandal.

Lady Elizabeth turned the same shade of pink as her dress, suddenly interested in the remaining steak on her plate.

Lord Scotney laughed wholeheartedly, putting a comforting hand on Phantomhive’s stiff shoulder. “Now, that isn’t the sort of jewelry we’re awaiting from Ciel here. We’re waiting to see the type of ring you offer my daughter.”

Richard Burton snickered in agreement, “that’s what all us fathers are waiting for, Alexis.”

“That’s right, Ciel. Don’t wait until I ascend to the pearly gates to become my son-in-law,” Lord Scotney scolded playfully. He smiled at his wife as she rolled her eyes, no doubt accustomed to his antics.

You’ve never seen Lord Phantomhive as flustered as he was at that moment— perhaps aside from when he caught you with your corset half undone. You cringed at the memory, rushing back into your quarters from sneaking out that night. The blizzard delayed your journey from meeting Dona in the city and returning to the estate. You had been too late; Mey-Rin found your empty room and alerted Lord Phantomhive and Sebastian before your fumbling return.

Cornelia came to his rescue.

“Well, Edward waited quite a while, didn’t he, father?” She asked smugly, poking her fiancé’s shoulder mischievously. “I thought I was going to get frostbite that night!”

You tilted your head, feigning curiosity. Oddly, all you wanted was to change the subject from Lord Phantomhive’s impending proposal to Lady Elizabeth to Edward’s.

“Frostbite?” You asked.

Cornelia recounted the night of Edward’s proposal, December 2nd, 1891. Edward took her to the Empire Skating Rink— the first covered ice skating rink in New York City, an obvious nod to Cornelia’s lineage as an eighth-generation New Yorker. And apparently, her immense skill at ice skating. She described how he sank to one knee in the middle of the rink for everyone to see, pulling the small box out of the depths of his pocket. Cornelia could barely hear the words he spoke, occupied with crying.

You imagined her tears stung her cheeks in the cold.

“And he had my father skate over with flowers!” Cornelia added. “They were beautiful red roses.”

Mr. Burton shrugged innocently, “I was fulfilling my duty.”

“You did just that by granting me this amazing woman’s hand,” Lord Edward with surprising warmth, considering he spent a considerable part of the meal glowering at Lord Phantomhive. “Anything more was a kindness, sir.” He shared a fond look with his soon-to-be father-in-law.

“Oh, please do let me see your ring again!” Lady Elizabeth squealed, gasping when Cornelia did her one better by offering said ring for her to hold.

The diamond was understandably large and cut into a perfect circle. Two bands were supporting it; one solid gold and the other composed of sparking smaller diamonds. They crossed one another diagonally. It was a lovely selection, even you had to admit so.

You could see the pensiveness in Lady Elizabeth’s eyes as they darted conspicuously from the diamond to Lord Phantomhive. He wouldn’t live long enough to get down on one knee for her if she only knew that.

. . .

You awaited Lord Phantomhive in the sitting room, face cleaned of all makeup, comfortably dressed in a white nightgown. He was finishing with the guests, whereas you said your goodbyes and made a strategic retreat about fifteen minutes prior. You required time alone with the Earl’s tea selection for the night, recently set down by Sebastian.

The sweet scent of Earl Grey would have been unmatched if you hadn’t been nursing your own cup of hot chocolate.

Carefully eyeing the door, you gently pulled a porcelain salt shaker from the folds of your nightgown. It was small, barely longer than your middle finger. Though opaque and hand-painted, the substance inside appeared to be minute, coarse particles— like salt or sugar. Only you knew better; the contents were thallium sulfate, the infamous Poisoner’s Poison. Tasteless, odorless, and easily soluble in hot liquid, it was your favorite chemical to kill with.

Even the symptoms leading to death were too discreet to implicate murder.

Dona supplied you with three full salt shakers, allowing you no room for error. She was careful that way, even measuring 15 mg of the chemical per shaker. That was the exact quantity needed to kill.

Pursing your lips, you quickly unscrewed the container’s metal lid, pouring the contents into Lord Phantomhive’s tea cup and tucking the empty porcelain back into your deep pocket. The chemical dissolved effortlessly, and as if on cue, Lord Phantomhive entered.

You took a guileless sip of your hot chocolate. It scalded your tongue, but you refused to wince, painfully proud. The burn helped you ignore the forming knots in your stomach and throat. It soothed the prickling anxiety that built beads of sweat in your hairline.

Meeting his eye was a challenge, but you forced yourself.

“That was quite an affair,” he commented vaguely, gauging your mood.

The hot chocolate tasted like sandpaper to you, “Miss Burton and Lord Edward are well matched,” you said noncommittally, “her father was rather interesting.”

“Yes. Mr. Burton is a veteran. Fought on the Union’s side in the war,” Lord Phantomhive’s heart wasn’t in the conversation, much like you. He inspected the crisp set of cards Sebastian set in the middle of the table, neutral territory for you and the Earl’s respective genius. Though he favored chess and you enjoyed draughts, neither of you could master any sort of card game.

“Did you have a game in mind?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Whist.”

The game was involved enough to take the Earl’s attention away from his tea. He tended to forget everything around him in the heat of strategic play; his focus was admirable. You nearly forgot about Earl Grey’s poisonous contents in the first place, easing into the easy rhythm you exchanged turns in. You rarely made each other wait, minds well suited to knowing which moves to make turns before making them.

When you were on the cusp of winning, Lord Phantomhive set down his cards, face down, of course.

“I actually,” he started before thinking better of his starting words with a grimace. His grave look told you to set your card down as well and give him your entire focus.

Sudden anxiety twisted your stomach; it made your blood run cold. You wondered, did he see you poison the tea? There was no way.

“I wanted to… thank you, Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive said. The surprise hit you like a train. You sat up in your seat, posture as straight as a ruler, bewildered. You had never heard those words from a nobleman, the particularly ill-tempered and entitled Earl, at that. You felt as if he’d struck you.

You allowed the bewilderment to read easily on your face. “Thank me? Whatever for?”

“For tonight. I know my betrothed can be rather…”

“Headstrong,” you supplied, nodding. A smile tugged at your lips, “she’s a good one. I felt that entertaining a request from her was worthwhile.”

“Nevertheless. It was considerate of you, especially after the other day,” he glanced at your injured arm meaningfully. After the guests left, you removed your evening gloves to expose the wound. Mey-Rin helped you add a new layer of petroleum jelly, and fresh bandage—Nurse Sebastian (and from what you remembered from Baxter’s basic medical training), infection was your biggest opponent.

You blushed and settled for a reluctant smile, uneasy. Someone must have told the Earl to show gratitude towards you; he did not possess this warmth naturally.

But you were wrong; the Earl was not an actor of that magnitude.

“It was my pleasure,” you managed, pronouncing the words slowly so as not to stutter through them painfully.

If you had looked away as you were tempted to, you would have missed his hand. It was drifting to his teacup, fingers interlacing between the cup's body in the handle, lifting the cup up to his lips.

“Don’t drink that!”

Before you realized you were moving, you sprung out of your chair. Your good arm knocked the delicate cup of poison out of Phantomhive’s hand, forcing your bad arm to support your torso. You stood precariously bent over the small table. In his surprise, Lord Phantomhive was too slow to move.

The cup fell to the floor, spilling the lukewarm tea everywhere; on the Earl’s dining ensemble, the tablecloth, the rug, the floor. Some managed to splash on you as well. The playing cards splayed over the floor, stained with tea.

At least the tea wasn’t hot enough to cause any burns.

It was Lord Phantomhive’s turn to gape at you, bewildered. You’ve never been this close to his face— it certainly wasn’t your intention. But while you were in that proximity, you couldn’t help but note: the proud slope of his nose, his pouty lips. His eyelashes were quite long.

Suddenly self-conscious, you felt your face grow warm yet again (it was truly becoming an embarrassment). As quickly as you pounced, you retreated.

“My apologies,” you managed, the words difficult to formulate in your mouth. Your hands quivered. “There’s tea on you” everywhere. Poisonous tea everywhere.

Dona provided you with three salt shakers for this reason.

“Think nothing of it. We can continue our game in the foyer,” Lord Phantomhive said warily. His concern was more evident than any hint of anger.

“I’ll meet you there. After you change,” you said, cringing at the stains that marred the Earl’s clothes. And the mess you made. The tea pooled on the floor reminded you of a poll of blood, save for the sweet floral scent. You urged yourself to think of something else.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Phantomhive allowed you to exit the spoiled room first.

You took a final look before stepping out, casting one last look at your mess. You felt a twinge of regret for Mey-Rin, but it needed to be done.

Needless to say, there were worse messes to clean up.

. . .

Tags:

#ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel phantomhive x you #ciel x reader #ciel x you #black butler #black butler fanfiction #black butler fanfic #black butler x you #strangers to lovers #anime fanfiction #anime fanfic #sebastian michaelis #historical fiction #historical romance #victorian era #victorian romance #the first salt shaker #the indignant pawn

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