#and introducing the chain to anything modern???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thenerdyfanwriter · 1 year

Text

Damn Your Lies

Pairings: Modern!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Implied Bucky x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 1,947

Warnings: ANGST. Like lots of angst. Hints at cheating.

Summary: You feel Bucky pulling away from you. When you meet the new neighbor, everything comes to light.

A/N: This is based off the song The Chain by Fleetwood Mac. There is a possibility for a part 2 if enough people want one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something going on with Bucky. He’s been acting strange for a few weeks now. When I asked him about it he just said he’s been spending more time with “a friend”. A. Friend. Not “my friend”, just “a friend”. I don’t understand why he won’t even tell me who it is. I thought I knew all his friends.

Bucky is currently out with his friend. Just the one friend. And I hate this feeling I have, like I know he’s doing something he shouldn’t. This has become a routine at this point. Bucky tells me he’s leaving, I ask where he's going, he tells me a friends, and I sit on the couch or lay in bed with this sick feeling until he gets back.

It’s almost midnight now. This is the latest Bucky has been. I know I sound super jealous right now, but when you get this feeling, it’s the only thing you can be.

I must have fallen asleep. I feel Bucky laying next to me. I can hear him snoring. I open my eyes and he has his back to me. I can see a sliver of sun peeking through the curtains in the room. Slowly getting out of bed, as to not wake Bucky, I make my way to the kitchen.

I stop in the middle of the hallway. I can hear Bucky saying something, but I can only make out a part of it before I hear snoring again. With softer steps, I continue making my way to the kitchen to start breakfast.

By the time Bucky finally gets up, it’s almost noon. “ Good Morning Buck.I made breakfast and coffee if you want some.”

He grumbles before responding. “ Thanks. Not hungry though.” He grabs a cup of coffee before going back to the bedroom. I follow him. He’s not normally like this in the morning. He normally is happy for some breakfast and engages in conversation.

“Are you ok, Bucky? Is there something wrong?” He’s facing away from me sitting on the edge of the bed. The curtains have been opened and the sun is blazing through them now. I notice Bucky still has last night's clothes on, although they look more messy and wrinkled now.

“I’m fine. Just tired s’all.” Bucky said before sipping some coffee. He’s still facing away from me at this point, so I walk around the bed to sit next to him. Before I make it all the way around, he turns on the bed to face me, and I see it. Dark red lipstick on the collar of his shirt.

I stop before I make it to him. Bucky looks at me and his brows furrow. “I’m going to go clean the bathroom.” I say quickly and exit the room before he can say anything.

I make it to the bathroom and lock the door. I hear footsteps in the hallway. None of them come to the bathroom. It sounds like Bucky’s getting ready for work. I hear his footsteps in the hallway one last time before I hear the front door open and close.

That’s when I break down. My back slides down the door and I pull my knees to my chest and let the tears fall. I should have known better than to not question him farthing about things. I should have pushed harder for the truth.

At some point the tears stopped and I got up, cleaned myself up and continued on with my day. Bucky should be home around 6 pm tonight, which gives me plenty of time to go shopping and cook dinner.

I drove to the grocery store to get some things for dinner. As I was shopping, I noticed our new neighbor. Where Bucky and I live, it’s a very small town where we all know each other. I had heard of her from a few friends, but never got to meet her before now.

I walk up to her and introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Y/n. You must be Natasha.” She had shoulder length, red hair and natural makeup on. I can see why everyone is already fawning over her. She’s beautiful.

“Yeah, I am. It’s nice to meet you.” She seems very anxious. Her eyes keep darting around and she keeps shifting feet.

“Well, why don’t you come over to my house for dinner tonight? It’ll be me and my boyfriend, Bucky.” I asked her. She froze when I said Bucky’s name, which is weird. “You can bring your partner if you’d like as well.”

“Oh, I’m actually not seeing anyone. But I’ll take you up on the dinner offer. It would be nice to make new friends.” Natasha said. She seems a little less fidgety.

I give her a big smile and give her my address. “ See you tonight then.”

“Yeah. See you.” She said before rushing off.

I finish shopping and make it home a couple hours before Bucky is supposed to be home. I start dinner and start setting the dining room up. By time I’m done, there's still a half hour before Bucky gets home, so I go change.

I hear the front door open and heavy steps walking through the house. I look at the clock in the bedroom and realize Bucky is home early. I walk out to the living room where he’s taking his boots off. “ You’re home early, Buck.”

“Yeah. I finished work early.” He said without looking up from where he was unlacing his boots.

“Ok. Well I invited the new neighbor, Natasha, over for dinner. I’m making your favorite roast.” At Natasha’s name his fingers on his boot laces freeze briefly before continuing.

“Ok sweets. Fine with me.” He finishes taking his boots off and goes to the bedroom. I hear the over chime, so I go to the kitchen to finish dinner.

As I’m transferring everything from the kitchen to the dining room, the doorbell rings. I make my way to the door and pull it open. On the other side is Natasha. “ Hi. I’m just finishing setting up dinner. You can go sit at the table if you'd like. Bucky should be out soon.” As if on cue Bucky walks out of the bedroom.

“You must be Natasha. I’m Bucky.” He says as he greets her. I finish moving everything and we all sit down. We engage in conversation for a while before I notice her lipstick.

“That's a beautiful shade of lipstick you have. Almost like a perfect dark red.” I said to her. I feel like I’ve seen that color before, I just can’t place where.

“Oh, thank you. I just love the color of it.” Natasha responds.

We keep conversation for another hour while we finish dinner. Natasha has to leave so we say goodbye and Bucky and I start cleaning up. “She seems nice. What do you think Bucky?”

“Um, yeah. She seems nice enough.” Bucky says. He’s still acting strange but I figure he’s just not feeling well or something.

I go to the kitchen to start on the dishes when I pick up the glass Natasha was drinking from. There’s remnants of her lipstick still on it and I remember where I saw it before. This morning on Bucky’s shirt collar. The glass falls from my hand and Bucky comes running in.

“Are you ok? I heard a crash.” He rushed out.

I smiled and looked at him. “ Yeah I’m fine. The glass slipped from my hand.” I turned back to the sink and continued with the dishes. He seemed fine with my response so he walked out of the kitchen. I could feel my breath getting more shaky as I held tears back.

Bucky was in bed sleeping by the time I was done with the dishes and got ready for bed. I laid with my back to him but couldn’t sleep. At this point I was silently crying, hoping what I’m thinking isn’t what’s happening.

Bucky must have woken up at some point because I feel his arms wrap around me before I hear him start talking. “Baby, are you crying?” He asked. He sounds genuinely concerned.

“No, I’m fine, Buck.” I sniffle and wipe my face before facing him. I know he can tell I’m lying just based on the way his face shifts.

“Don’t lie to me, doll. Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, cupping my face.

I pull away from him and sit up against the headboard. “Why won’t you tell me about your new friend? It seems like you’re always out with them, but you never tell me who they are or what you do.” I say while looking at him. He sits up and takes a minute to find an answer.

“Are you trying to insinuate I’m cheating on you?” He asks as he looks at me like I’m crazy.

“No, I just like to know what’s going on in your life.” I told him. He gets off the bed and starts pacing the room.

“Is that why you invited Natasha over? To try and catch me cheating?” He looks at me. His breathing is heavier.

More tears are springing in my eyes as I connect the dots. The lipstick, freezing when I said her name. “Was that her lipstick on the collar of your shirt last night?” I ask calmly.

He stops pacing and faces me fully. He looks like a deer in headlights. “What lipstick?” He asks almost in a whisper. I get off the bed and go over to the laundry basket where his shirt is. I pull it out and show him the stain. He looks at it closely before responding. “That’s your lipstick.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t wear this color. But Natasha does.” I throw the shirt at him as the tears finally make their way down my face. “Is she your new friend? The one you hangout with all night and refuse to tell me about?”

Bucky’s frozen. He knows now that he’s been caught. After a minute of no response from him, I make my way to the living room to grab my stuff. “Where are you going Y/n?” He chases after me with the shirt still in his hand.

“I’m going to sleep at my brothers tonight. I’ll come back for my stuff in the morning.” My breathing is heavier and I can barely see through the tears coming from my eyes.

“Don’t leave me,please. I love you. I promise nothing happened between me and Natasha.” He seems panicked now, as I collect my bag and coat.

“Bucky you don’t love me if you’re willing to let another girl get lipstick all over you and then lie about it.” I’m standing at the door now.

“I do love you.” He says loudly.

I turn around and face him. I’m tired of this back and forth. “ If you don’t love me now, you’ll never love me again. I know you fell out of love, Bucky. And that's ok.Goodbye Buck.”

Before he can respond, I run out the door. I start walking to Steve’s apartment.

When I get there, I knock on the door. It takes a minute for him to answer, but when he does, I run into his arms and cry hard. “Whoa, what's wrong?” He asks, pulling me into the living room.

“Bucky cheated on me.” Was all I could say before crying again. He looks mad now. I know Him and Bucky were best friends.

“You can stay here, as long as you need to.” He went and got some blankets for me and I laid on the couch before drifting into sleep.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky angst #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel angst

403 notes · View notes

keikakudom · 17 days

Note

What if your Alastor genuinely started to feel love for Vox? Like what would he do? If he realized he was in love with Vox? Would he attempt to Atticwife Vox? Or chain him?

***WARNING: this answer does go into heavy/dark themes.

Woooh, okay so I had to search what "Atticwife" meant, but this question literally sat with me for two days when it was first sent in. I even consulted my bestie(not into fandom) about it.

From my understanding, I think it means "when the partner/significant other forcibly keeps the other against locked away their will bc they're mentally not well/insane(?)".

Initially, here are a few reasons why I think that wouldn't happen/I don't see it working for RR!AU:

I think of Alastor liking the free little things that Vox does as entertainment. He likes to see what Vox does with Hell as playground. Free-roaming gerbil style.

Maybe he would try to cage him once for the heck of it, but I genuinely think(despite all the fanon interpretations and how canon Vox is all leading into that he's insecure and pathetic) that Vox and Alastor are equally matched and Alastor would not have a feasible way of keeping him there for one. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. I swear in canon that they are setting up Vox to be underestimated. Like, yes radio waves/radio has power over TV signals--but literally face it, nobody WANTS radio. Only TV does. Even if TV disappears, the masses are not going to go back to radio. Radio has its purpose but in the modern age and from what it looks like in HH too(since TV/Vox is so popular) radio as a ruling media is already over, it's relegated to a supporting role now because TV is just so convenient and straight up better with so many more uses.

And I dont think Vox's way of thinking is "wrong" or that he's far gone, since he's never been actively suicidal. I only made him mention that line in the fic because Alastor was so blindsided by HIS way of thinking that Vox needed to voice his side for Alastor to think of Vox's perspective for once(also in the fic I made Alastor SHOW that he cared) aka, in the end they both communicated in the way that the other prefers (show vs tell). RR!AU Vox is characterized as only to have maybe, PASSIVE suicide ideation. Its like, he wont ever think about dying unless his mind is empty--so putting him in an isolated/empty place would make it worse/allow his depressive thoughts to fester because he's not busying his mind.

So if you want to go with a fluffy route, if Alastor really romantically fell in love with Vox, I want to say he'd tone down the blatant stalking and go for a traditional and appealing courting way(probably asked Rosie for advice) that finally respects Vox's current feelings...would Vox reciprocate? Eh, too little too late, maybe.

That said, I'm fascinated by this scenario so I'm going to entertain it as a what-if , LOL. It's going to get very toxic and strange, even more-so from hereon out:

Let's say we take what Vox said in the fic for verbatim(wants to stay on DND forever, chasing after death), and that Alastor planned for this ahead of time.

First, it would be an environmental shock to Vox because he's so used to constantly being around people, and just DOING stuff...there's some symbolism here about how great white sharks have trouble being kept in zoos/being kept in captivity.

A lot of people would look for him. Hell politics would go haywire. I think Vox would busy himself in his thoughts about how to deal with his own absence too, all concerned for the power vacancy and things that are piling up, if he couldn't find an immediate way to escape. It's really hard to think of Vox ever doing "nothing" IMO.

(Even if he sits and watches TV all day, he goes all giggly and dramatic. A big reason why I push this in RR!AU. I find it so interesting to have a character/personality so animated also having deep nihilistic thoughts. He would not curl up and spend days not doing anything, more like 'OK NEXT NOW WHAT'.)

Then let's say Alastor introduces daily stimulation with Vox. In order for him not to do anything drastic. Playing chess with him, asking open-ended questions...Vox starts to crave those singular interactions everyday so badly. Because it's his only fix to do something.

In any case, it would turn into a very unhealthy and co-dependent, Stockholm syndrome-y relationship. Subsequently, 'Atticwife'....

This was a very wild question to answer, but thank you for sending it! It was pretty fun to imagine a possibility where this played out.

#au: reset resort #this was yummy as fuck #crazy #but tasty nonetheless #Ask #Anon

27 notes · View notes

biblioklept-writes · 1 year

Note

hi. is it possible to do an enemies to lovers between aemond x reader? the reader hates aemond for his arrogance and impulsive behaviour. aemond supposedly "hates" her and is in complete denial. however, he gets jealous when she is performing traditional dancing with one of her male friends because he doesn't know the moves and feels left out. after the dance, he chases her to the gardens after the dance while the reader is wearing her traditional costume and jewelleries. and that was when he finally notices how beautiful the reader is. if you can consider this, that would be great! thanks!

Hey anon! thank you for this prompt <3

I am going Desi!reader with this, hoping that you were desi and came to my blog from this hehe. I feel this prompt suites modern times better than hotd era and I incorporated a tinsy bit of this ask, sorry if thats not what you had in mind!

I was a fool (Modern!Aemond x Reader)

Content: just some jealous Aemond in an arranged marriage type of situation, could be considered fluff

A/N: Ravi is just an OC (if you are familiar with A Good Girl's Guide to Murder then not really)

HOTD Masterlist | Modern!Aemond Masterlist

Sometimes, being a rich heiress was tough.

You enjoyed a luxurious life thanks to your parent's jewellery making and retail, and a luxury hotel chain - they were one of the most famed in all of Westeros, having migrated from the Indian Subcontinent in their youth.

As their eldest daughter and heiress, you were introduced to the Targaryens, a strange family full of scandal, yet they were the wealthiest of the business families in all of Westeros - dealing with luxury vehicles, home decor, skin care and cosmetics line - and they owned some smaller, less expensive brands under elusive names. Surely not all of their business was legal, just like yours.

You had first met Aemond Targaryen at one of your mother's seven star hotel, right by the King's Landing Airport. It was a rather secretive place and paparazzi stayed away, courtesy of the Airport Security Force. You had become accustomed to the bright lights and the shining marble flooring and the high ceilings, non of them piquing your interest as they did when you were a child.

You had heard a lot about him, more than you were willing to admit. You had attended the same university, with him being two years your senior. He was stoic - stayed quiet save for answering the professors. Among the girls, he had a reputation of being inexpressive and condescending, even though he was a pleasure in bed. You and him never had the same crowd - not in university and never outside of it. You had heard he loved cars and partook in numerous F1 races and had a stellar reputation - almost always getting to the podium.

Reputation or not, you did not like him. He was a stuck-up and arrogant man, and you couldn't stand the thought of marrying him even for a profit to your family. Pretending to be in love with this man was tough, even with his god-like beauty.

Aemond has his permanent scowl on his face, even when you are having a very public dinner with his cousin Baela and her fiancé. You and Baela are having a light-hearted conversation on the subject of cosmetics, sharing your preferences and icks. Bonding over the fact that neither of you manage to get a foundation that matches perfectly, you pitch that maybe you should start your own cosmetic line catering to darker skins specifically.

"I'll promote you for free," Baela quips. "It's time we take matters into our own hands, isn't it?"

"That's what I am saying," You chuckle.

Both your companions are sitting in complete silence after exchanging etiquette compelled pleasantries. They quietly pick at their plates, and you pity the Lannister man - Baela's fiancé - for being stuck with your soon to be fiancé, Aemond. You've stopped feeling anything for him quite a while ago, your date.

"Red is really your colour," Baela compliments once the quartet of you is out of the restaurant. "It's hard to keep eyes off of you,"

The two of you walk arm in arm behind your respective dates, feeling pleasant in the cool evening air. "Thank you," you say, pushing your hair away from your eyes. "You're a stunner yourself, Baela."

She stops, and lets the men walk out of earshot before asking, "How does my cousin treat you?" She sounds concerned.

You take both her hands in yours, heart warmed by her concern. "He's fine. We barely talk. That's great," you say. "Otherwise I'd have slapped him by now."

"He's a bit of a... personality," Baela agrees. "If he does anything that bothers you, let me know. I will put a word to his mother."

You chuckle, "Sure," The only reason you've not turned your house upside down is because of this family. They have their quirks, but Baela and her twin Rhaena, Alicent, Helaena and Daeron have been very welcoming of you, making sure that you feel right at home.

As etiquette rules, Aemond waits for you by the passenger side of his Rolls Royce as you walk to it, opening the door for you then going over to the driver's side. He is quiet again, and you start scrolling through your phone, answering any messages that need urgent attention. It's always like this, you barely speak aside from exchanging pleasantries - and honestly, you didn't mind it too much.

It's not like you hadn't tried, you had always tried to make small talk, to get to know him better, but his responses never exceeded one word. How was your day? Average. How are you feeling? Good. And that was on the good days, otherwise, you've only ever heard him hum or snark in response.

He wasn't controlling of what you were doing or who you were with - one could say it was all they asked for in a rich husband who let them do whatever they want. You didn't want that though, you were the eldest daughter of ultra rich immigrant parents, you knew how to get things done your way, and you knew how to keep everyone in line without having to utter a word. But you were also the eldest daughter of immigrant parents, always having to set a pristine example for your little brother and youngest sister, be the perfect daughter, caretaker, student, dancer, performer, the best of your year, raise your siblings while your parents work and do so without any complains to anyone. Expressing your qualms meant a lecture on how ungrateful you were of everything that your parents provided for you and being unable to say something in your defence because then you 'd be talking back like an ungrateful little brat.

This to-be marriage with Aemond was something set up entirely by your mother and his. Your mother couldn't wait to rub it in everyone's face that her beautiful, perfect daughter, her heiress was about to get married to one of the most handsome, and the richest bachelor in all of the continent, who had a stellar record in academics and was an expert in finance, and had no blemishes in his portfolio.

Turning this down would earn you a lifelong worth of taunts and lectures, so arguably this was better than that. Complete silence with a stranger you can trust, but not speak with. A stranger who would soon be your fiancé and put on a show for the tabloids to gossip about to give the reporters their content.

You think he hates you - he doesn't spare you one glance from his good eye - always keeping his sapphire-eyed side to you. Aemond had lost that eye in childhood, back when you were still fascinated by the pristine marble floors of hotels. There had been some accident involving his nephews from his stepsister, and your mother had sent her condolences to Alicent with some jewels. The current sapphire that he wore was the latest gift from your mother for announcing your cold courtship.

It's a few evenings later and you are visiting Aemond's penthouse in the heart of King's Landing to give the paparazzi a show, to give the tabloids something to gossip about the next morning and afternoon, when you are planning to leave.

You quite enjoy the music and the open bar, hating the strong taste of vodka, but not quite getting enough of it. You definitely aren't sober anymore, moving to the fast tempo of the music that you cannot distinguish - you only know that it makes you feel powerful like a divine goddess waiting to unleash her rage.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get back from work before getting drunk?" Aemond says. His voice is deep and it makes you shiver, for you have never heard him speak more than one word. "I wonder what my mother sees in you," he grumbles. "Whatever she does, I don't."

You give him the finger, and close your eyes to get lost in the music again. You really don't care what he thinks of you, but something in his words was straight up insulting.

"No words to say now?" He snarks.

"What is it that you pride yourself in, hm?" You ask, glaring at him.

"I graduated with the top scores in my degree, I am the best finance manager and the best Westerosi F1 driver - " he starts to say, offended. For a moment you wonder if he's drunk too, but the condescending look in his darkened violet eye has you lashing out on him in rage.

"Yeah, big deal racer-boy." You snap your fingers in front of his face, having to look up. "I was also the top scorer in my year - across all majors, I can hack into your finance system and bring it down and you wouldn't even know what happened. I run an NGO, I manage my mother's finances and I know how to stitch, embroider and cook. I can survive if left alone - but you'll start crying for your mother the moment you are left alone with no servants or money to take care of you. If anyone gets to act like a stuck up arrogant little bitch that should be me."

"Oh please, your mother was the one pushing for this marriage because she knows you are incapable of anything," He snaps at you. You are nose to nose, and you want to smack him hard across the face, but you hold back that grudge.

"You know what your beloved mother told me before we started all this?" You challenge. "Do you? DO YOU?" you exhale before saying, "She said that there is no other woman who could possibly put up with this attitude of yours - that she knows you will not be able to survive on your own, you big man-child. Putting a little show on for the reporters doesn't make you a man."

You push him back and take the elevator, yelling a "Fuck you!" before the door closes and hides his comically scandalised face.

Trouble in paradise? It seems the most eligible bachelor in Westeros is free for taking again.

"What is this that the newspapers say," Your mother says, tone chiding. "Why would you leave in the middle of the night?"

"I cannot stand Aemond, mother!" You complain. "I cannot stand him. If Alicent weren't so sweet, I'd never have agreed to this whole thing."

"Sweetie, please. Think it over again." Your mother insists.

"Consider this arrangement over if he doesn't apologise to me." You declare, glaring at your mother with untamed fury. And for once, she is rightfully terrified of your eldest daughter-rage. Your little brother supports you, making your point stronger. He can be a pain in the ass but he can also be helpful in times like these.

There is a gala event on the weekend, and your family friends from Little Kilton are invited. The Singh Family is here, as is your old friend Ravi. You hug him tightly and ask him about his girlfriend and the crimes that they uncovered together. He's giggly talking about his lovely girlfriend Pip, calling him Sarge and other cute names like that.

You want to be normal at that moment - not the daughter of diamond merchant and a luxury hotel chain owner, but a daughter of normal immigrants, with a boyfriend who can love you as Ravi loves his Sarge Pip.

You are quite done with everything, and decide to dress in traditional clothes for the gala, opting for a rather fancy lehenga. You are going to dance tonight, flaunt your classical dancing skills with Ravi as your companion. Your outfits accidentally match with the similar shades of green and silken fabrics - Ravi clicks a selfie and sends it to his girlfriend, who instantly calls and you finally get to see her in her element. You see the way Ravi's eyes light up on seeing her, and a knife twists at your heart - because you'll never have anyone be this happy to see you.

Pip gushes about how pretty you look and how no one will notice Ravi with you in the room, and you share a good laugh at Ravi's pouty look, claiming he looked ravishing.

"Alright, we're there." Ravi says. "I'll call you when I get back, Sarge. Love you."

"Love you." Pip says before they hang up.

"You're so in love it's disgusting." You say, lips twisted in mock disgust. "Put a ring on it already."

"That's the plan," He says with a dreamy smile. "I didn't come over just to see you, did I?"

"Ravi Singh!" You scream with your hand covering your mouth. "Oh my god, you absolute dork in love you can't be for real!"

"I hope she says yes." He sighs.

"Oh, she will." You declare. "I'll help you pick out the ring."

You told Ravi everything about Aemond and your situation with him, and the paparazzi didn't stop clicking pictures as your mom walked with you, with Ravi accompanying you. He's a little nervous, but he hides it well.

Once inside, you spot Alicent and Helaena, and introduce them to Ravi as your childhood friend and they are really welcoming of him. Alicent looks upset over her son's behaviour and apologises on his behalf, but you lie and tell her that's fine. Your mother can break her heart later gently if her son fails to prove himself worthy to you.

You spot Aemond's silver head in the corner of your eye as you walk away from Alicent and Helaena, and grab Ravi's wrist and have him look at your former-soon-to-be fiancé.

"He looks like an elitist snob," Ravi comments.

"You're not wrong," you say.

"I think jealousy would do him some good," Ravi says. "Let's go get changed, I believe our performance is in an hour. Don't you need t0o much time to get changed?"

"Let's go," You say, grinning. You whisper to your mother, actively avoiding looking at Aemond, not bothering to put up any civility for him. You'll never look at him in the face again if he doesn't apologise for his condescension.

The beat of the classical music hits your veins, and you and Ravi are dancing to the rhythm, going where the music takes you. The whole crowd is silent, entranced by your performance. It's nothing too strenuous, but you manage to impress them. You trust him enough for the couple of lifts that you have, earning a loud applause as you finish your performance with you on one knee on the right of the stage and Ravi in identical position on the left.

You are panting heavily as you get off the stage as the applause slowly quiets down, changing back into your magnificent green lehenga before going out to get some fresh air. The gardens are impeccably maintained, with trimmed bushes and perfectly shaped trees, the clean air replenishing the stale one in your lungs, making you relaxed after the costing performance.

You take a seat on a bench under a tall tree, in relative isolation as you catch your breath.

A scowl curves your beautiful face as you hear the sound of your name in Aemond's quiet, deep voice, wondering what more he could possibly have to say to you.

"What business have you got here?" You bitterly ask.

"You were amazing back there," He attempts.

"I am aware, thank you." You say, still refusing to look at him. "I had a great partner with me."

"Speaking of a partner, who is he?" Aemond asks.

"None of your business anymore," You snap.

"I just want to talk," He tries again.

"There's nothing there to talk," you stop him. "You made it pretty clear that I am not worth your time or attention."

"It was foolish of me to say that." He amends.

"Yet, that is what you thought was the truth." You say, looking ahead at the bushes in front of you.

"I'd have danced if you asked me to," He confesses, changing routes.

"You left no room for questions," You counter. "No self respecting person would ask something of you after only receiving one word or one syllable response for more than a month. And as a self respecting person I don't deem you a fit partner."

"And he is?" Aemond asks, you can hear in his voice - the anger, the strain that he has in his jaw.

"Surely," You tease, voice deadpanned. "Much better than you, definitely."

"What do you want me to do?" Aemond finally caves in, sighing.

"I don't know, maybe your top of the major brain should have the answers," You snap again. Your glare and voice have bite, but you do not give him the satisfaction of facing him. The warmth of his body comes at your side as he takes a seat beside you and lets out a long sigh.

"Look, I know it was foolish of me to say what I did," He started. "I want to ask for your forgiveness."

"You've not given me any reason to trust you," you say. “How can I forgive you if I know nothing about you?"

"We ought to change that then." Aemond decides. "Let me take you out sometime."

"You had all the time in the world to take me out, yet…" you trail off.

"I had been a fool," He sighs, rubbing his face. "A stuck up arrogant little bitch, as you'd rightfully put."

"What changed?" You ask, finally turning to look at him. Aemond's usual scowl is replaced with a soft, pleading crease in his brow. His lilac eye is uncharacteristically soft - you can swear that he has tears in both his eyes - the sapphire one and the intact one. "Please don't tell me you are doing this because your mom asked you to."

"She doesn't know what happened," Aemond confesses, his voice dropping down to a whisper. "I just needed to hear what you told me the other day."

"And?" You prompted.

"I have always thought you to be insanely beautiful," Aemond confesses with a hesitant sigh. "But today you look divine, crafted patiently by the Seven themselves."

"Hmm, go on." You say with a cheeky grin, and Aemond chuckles. This the first time you ever heard him laugh, the first time you have ever seen him smile. He has a pretty smile and his laugh is one of the most pleasing sounds to your ears.

"I was intimidated by you, to be honest." He confesses. You have never heard him sound so vulnerable, exposed, and you realise that you are rather fond of it. "You're this insanely talented, beautiful woman who has her life together with everything sorted and I don't think I have ever learned how to keep up a conversation."

“You big, foolish man,” you press your lips together, inhaling a deep breath. “That degree is of no use, you should return it. How can you manage finance without knowing proper communication?”

“Maybe you can help me with that,” He says with a smile. He has dimples.

“I’d like that,” You nod.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, tomorrow?” He asks.

“Why wait?” you shrug.

#aemond targaryen x reader #ask ans: oneshot #ask: modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader #aemond x you #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen #modern hotd #hotd fic

236 notes · View notes

lillywillow · 10 months

Text

Blessed by a Goddess

Summary: You had never felt secure about your body but when you meet a renowned artist, you suddenly start to feel more beautiful than ever

Word Count: 1633

Pairings: Artist!Loki x Chubby!Female Reader

Warnings: Body insecurities, mild nudity

Being a plus-sized woman in the modern world could be cruel. Everyone seemed to have certain ideas on how you should look or dress or make ‘helpful’ comments. That’s why you took solace in the art world. Looking at all those fuller figured women from days gone by… it sometimes made you feel like you were born into the wrong era. You would see people admire the works of Ruben but when they turn to look at you, it was completely different. Oh, how you wished you could be one of those paintings.

…

Recently, you had heard about an art exhibit that was being put on at a nearby gallery. You had heard many wonderful things about the artist so you decided to go. As you walked around the gallery, you were in awe of the many wonderful things on display. Most of the works were Nordic inspired. There were intricately braided chains to make exquisite necklaces. Clay models of long boats with finely crafted designs on the sails. Tapestries depicting various Viking tales. The thing that struck you most about them the most is that every woman in the works, whether they be painted or clay, were all plump. You were admiring one of the pieces when you heard a voice behind you speak.

“Breathtaking…”

You turned to see the artist himself smiling at you. Loki was every bit as handsome as he was in his pictures. He circled you, looking at you with the same level of reverence you were looking at the artwork with.

“Yes, I do believe I have found my next masterpiece,” he softly smiled with a thoughtful tone.

“E-excuse me?” you stammered.

“Forgive my musings, my dear. It isn’t very often I see such beauty in real life…”

“You must say that to all the girls,” you muttered, feeling your face heat up.

“No, not all of them. I seldom find true beauty such as yours… I would love to use your likeness in one of my next pieces, if I may. There is no pressure if you decline,” he explained, handing you a business card.

You took it and barely had a chance to introduce yourself when Loki was called away by an art blogger who wanted to speak to him about his current exhibition. He kissed your hand and bowed to you before walking away. As you looked at the card in your hands, you wondered if you should go through with being a model for him. It was obvious from both his works and the way he looked at you he had a certain healthy respect for plus sized women… and the people here saw the beauty of his pieces… but could your really do it? Could you put your likeness out there for the world to see and to be admired like they were? You decided, you would have to get to know Loki a little more before you committed to anything.

…

A few days after the exhibition, you decided to stop by Loki’s studio. You felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you waited for the door to open. Once again you felt nervous as a handsome, golden-haired man answered.

“He-hello, I’m Y/N. I met Loki a few days ago at his show,” you explained, wringing your hands.

The man smiled warmly and welcomed you in.

“You must be the goddess my brother met!” he exclaimed.

“G-goddess? I’m sure he must say that to a lot of women…”

“Not at all! My brother respects all women of course but when it comes to putting them in his art… he can be very selective… Forgive me, I have yet to introduce myself. I’m Loki’s older brother, Thor.”

Thor led you inside to where Loki was sitting at his desk working on his sketches. When Thor announced your arrival, he looked up and smiled at you.

“Welcome,” he beamed. “I’m so glad you decided to come. Please, take a seat.”

Loki offered you a comfortable looking chair to sit in.

“Can I offer you some tea?”

You accepted and Loki busied himself making a pot for the pair of you.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you stated, taking the cup he handed you.

“My pleasure,” he smiled, sitting in the seat near you.

“I… I’m not quite sure if I feel ready to pose for a man I just met,” you stated.

“I completely understand. I’m still happy to see you again,” he softly smiled.

Loki seemed so kind and genuine.

“I… I wanted to ask you… What made you decide on me?” you voiced after a while.

“Growing up in Asgard, there was a goddess by the name of Freya. I always thought she was so beautiful with her soft curves… to be perfectly honest, I felt a little intimidated by her and I could never work up the courage to ask her to dance…”

“When I first came to Midgard, I would see women with similar figures to her and I had often wondered if Freya had blessed them with her beauty… I could see it everywhere. In the Italian Renaissance paintings, in that actress Marilyn Munroe… I find it sad that in modern times, that beauty was lost and rejected so I try to keep it alive in my art…”

You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to Loki speak. His words made your heart beat faster like no man has ever done before.

“Wow, Loki… you certainly have an amazing view of women…” he breathed.

“I meant every word I said,” he softly smiled. “I also meant what I said before; I truly do believe you would make a stunning work of art but if you do not feel comfortable, there is no pressure to pose.”

“Thank you for being so understanding… I think… I think I would like to but… I’m just not ready yet. I would like to get to know you a little more first.”

Loki nodded and agreed this would be the best idea. He was pleased you were considering posing for him but also wanted to respect your boundaries.

…

Over the next few weeks, you spent a lot of time with Loki, spending hours talking about various subjects. Through so much conversation, it began to feel like you had known him your entire life. When you came to the decision to pose for Loki’s art, he went out of his way to make you feel comfortable. He gave you a robe to wear in between sketching, kept his studio warm enough so you wouldn’t be chilled and gave strict instructions that anyone who wished to speak with him while he was working had to knock and wait until he answered the door.

Loki spent hours sketching you from every angle. Not once did you feel uneasy under his intense gaze; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He made you feel more beautiful than any of your past boyfriends ever made you feel. Once Loki had finished creating all the sketches he needed, he promised to contact you for the grand unveiling of his next masterpiece.

…

A few weeks had passed since Loki had sent you away to work on his sculpture. You understood he was busy working so you didn’t take it to heart when you didn’t hear from him in a while but he did send Thor to keep you updated on how he was going.

One day, you received a personal invitation from Loki to his next exhibition. You were both nervous and excited to see what he had done with all the sketches he had created.

On the day of the unveiling, you were more nervous than anyone. In just a few moments, the whole gallery would see what you try to hide from the world. Every stretch mark, every dimple, every roll and curve everything that made you feel insecure would be on full display. Behind you, you could hear some nasty whispered comments about you but that all went away when Loki found you.

“There you are, darling,” he smiled, taking your hand to kiss. “Come along. I want you to be by my side as I show the world how beautiful you are.”

You had to admit, seeing the looks of shock and jealousy on the faces of the ones making the horrid comments made you feel great. Loki walked you to the front of the room in front of the covered sculpture.

“Everyone… there is someone very special I would like you to meet,” Loki announced, calling the people to attention.

“This is Y/N. My muse, my goddess and the inspiration behind my latest work…”

Without further notice, Loki pulled the sheet off the sculpture. As you gazed upon the piece for the first time, you couldn’t help but tear up a little in joy. The figure was as gorgeous as the works of yore. You felt as beautiful as Venus herself. People started talking animatedly about the sculpture and cameras started flashing.

“Of course, this is incomparable to the real thing,” Loki smiled at you.

Before you could stop yourself, you kissed him. Loki was a little caught off guard but slowly kissed back, holding you close once the shock wore off.

“So… will you continue to be my muse,” he breathed once he pulled away.

“Of course, I will,” you smiled.

Loki was a truly masterful artist. He could make you feel beautiful in a room full of people. With him, all those insecurities melted away. You were his goddess.

#Marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #loki #Artist!Loki #loki x reader #Art #chubby reader #Blessed by a Goddess

122 notes · View notes

faroreskiss · 9 months

Text

The Power of Understanding / Part 7 (v2)

Revised/rewritten v2 posted on: 2023/09/10

Read on Ao3

Cheat Sheet

Chapters: Part 6, Part 8

Now we introduce the REAL Hylian!

What is this?: Random snippets of adventure of Translator!Reader and Linked Universe. Summary: You have been with the Chain for a while now, as their "scholar" and translator. You know everything about them, because you are from our world. But do they know the truth about how you can understand everyone? Warnings: You will be uncomfortable. You will see things that look like gibberish. That's "Modern Hylian"! Based on the grammar book here. If you are interested in what they said... Well, stay tuned ;) Some cussing. Actual depiction of a panic attack. Points of interest: This is your thing if you are into the mystery of chain being able to talk to each other, or if you are interested in seeing some Hylian. I am an actual trained linguist IRL, hence this HAD to be written!

In this chapter: The morning after. There is trouble in paradise. On top of that, suddenly everything becomes gibberish once again, just like the moment you dropped into the world of Hyrule for the first time, two years ago.

_________________

You opened your eyes once again, this time to a bright morning. Link wasn't there with you in the bed roll anymore. You guessed he was a bit embarrassed, you thought to yourself, and he got up earlier than others. As the sunlight was kissing your cheeks, you were feeling refreshed, rested. You were feeling suspiciously optimistic.

Maybe today wasn't going to be a bad day after all! Maybe you could ignore the fact that once again you were thrown off into a random world. At least this time you had Link with you, and you could always talk to him.

...and also cuddle him.

You could already smell the breakfast, you stood up in the bedroll, slowly stretching and yawning. You saw other Links were also in the process of tidying their stuff up.

You made eye contact with the teenager for a moment, he had a friendly grin on his face.

"Good morning!" you told nobody in particular, then Wild looked at you with a puzzled yet gentle smile. It was just English after all.

Then you said good morning to him again in the language you both spoke, but he just raised an eyebrow.

"Hirelo kekur!" shouted the teenager (Sailor was what they were calling him). You also saw Link’s ears perk up, all the other Links replied to him as well, with something similar. It wasn't hard to guess what it meant. But, YOUR Link also replied.

Huh? What? Now that didn't sound like ANYTHING you have heard before. Only vaguely familiar.

Sailor put his hands to his waist, made an exaggerated gesture of smelling motion towards Link and his makeshift cooking pot, in a pleasant way and said something else. Link just nodded, said another word and let out a chuckle.

Now, the Sailor seemed surprised. He just pointed a finger towards him and said

"Hi ga tueyul tina Holaya toyul, kane?!"

"Hey, ti klietin sin!" Link replied. Now all the other Links seemed interested in the conversation. They kept saying things to each other.

You? You had no idea. This was scary. Nothing they said made sense to you. Twilight must have noticed your expression of pure terror, because you locked eyes for a moment. You had now the glimmer of hope, he understood you last night, right?

"Hey wolf guy, good morning to you too" you said to him.

The rest of the group was stunned. Twilight's eyes were wide. Well, maybe it was a secret? Oops? Then you realized that wasn't even the least of your worries...

The Old Man, after rolling his bedroll back to his backpack, signed towards you.

"Radi ni? Ni tueyil ken tin sueriy."

Oh no. Oh no. OH NO. They didn't understand SHIT.

Hyrule replied to him, "Ti ga riebun, red maden, ti ga klietin nio."

"Kan? Lami ni tueyil ker?" Twilight also looked confused, and this question was more directed towards Wild, who at this point, stopped stirring whatever soup he was making.

"Layi?" said Sky.

You were already standing up, moving towards him. You spoke the language you used to speak with him, you know, until last night. However, the words were so hard to pull up from your brain, they weren't flowing anymore. It sounded so ridiculous coming out from your mouth.

"Link? What's going on? You understand them now?" you spoke with a desperate tone, in a language that probably did not exist anymore. You were almost pleading.

He was silent. Then he opened his mouth, the words flew, and as the words flew, you felt as if somebody was making you participate in the ice bucket challenge without your consent.

"Kane.. kon..." he was saying.

"Kan gonen…" Link with the red tunic (Vet, they called him?) said from behind, witnessing the whole thing.

Link, your Link. He had no idea what you said. He was supposed to be your anchor in this shitshow. After all these years, do you really need to start over? Wasn't it enough to suffer the language barrier once already, after being thrown into a strange world not once, but twice? You missed everyone, but you were just starting to accept your reality. Why you? Why was it you?

And then, without any warning, you started to shiver, even though the weather was warm. You moved back toward the bed roll, wrapping yourself into the blanket, sitting on the floor, shaking.

Your breathing started to quicken, your chest tightened, and an impending sense of doom surrounded you. Your heart was beating so fast, it was about to jump out of your chest. Your chest was hurting as if an elephant sat on it. You struggled to grasp onto anything stable. You were hyperventilating.

This was a panic attack.

Link noticed what was happening to you right away, ran towards you and got your hands. He just started to take breaths in front of you, trying to look into your eyes.

"Ti sir," he said softly, as he took a deep breath.

You tried to follow suit. That's what you did to him when it happened. Held his hands, sat in front of him, and gestured to him to breathe together. He was just doing the same.

"Lum..." another one.

"Sum..." another one.

"Tum..." and another one.

He was counting. You would always count to three.

You just counted with him, until you started to calm down. Slowly.

_______

As you were walking through the woods, you assumed you already lost some time to whatever schedule they set, as they were talking, no, arguing intensely about something. Specifically Rulie and Time (you dubbed the OoT Link as such). They were also sometimes looking at your way.

"Tin luekom tim tia loyen," Twilight said decisively. The Old Man wasn't protesting either.

Link wasn't leaving your side, at any case. You wanted to tell him that it's okay now, no need to treat you like a princess. You just wanted to be treated normally. Though you were about to die in the well of embarrassment after what you pulled in front of the legendary heroes.

"Woah, mijero" said the Sailor looking at you, suddenly appearing from the side. By the Goddesses, the Links were already so short, a teenager felt like a little gnome. Didn't even want to mention Four (you were tempted to call him Mini, but thought better of it, even if only in your mind)...

You were around 1.65 cm (5'4 for my American readers), which already made you taller than Link. Sure, except Wind (the Sailor), these were adult men, but you pretty much felt like a giant. Only Time, Twilight and the Captain were around your height and maybe a bit taller, and they were mature adults.

So you just assumed Wind was acting surprised. You just chuckled at him. Or maybe your ears?

He pulled your hand and pointed towards the single cloud in the sky.

"Vuleh," he said, pointing at it. again.

"Cloud?" you said, trying to make the shape of it with your hands.

"Layi! Vuleh!"

You smiled and tried to say the word yourself.

"Vu-leh." what an awkward word it was. You liked it.

He made sure to make you repeat it five more times.

The little rascal was trying to distract you by teaching you words. You felt fuzzy inside. Link just chuckled, he also seemed to have agreed that this was a great idea. You continued the little game for a while.

You saw a little butterfly nearby.

"Butterfly!" you beamed.

"Kywag!" this time, Four said back. Seemed like he was watching.

And the excruciatingly tiring walk continued until you reached a place that was oddly familiar to you... You went to a spring, which Vet and Rulie rushed towards for some reason, the Captain screaming something after them and Time just sighing. Twilight followed them with calmer steps instead. He had a nostalgic look on his face. It looked like he was paying his respects to it.

Oh, of course. This was the Ordon Spring.

You were going to Ordon Village.

58 notes · View notes

f0xgl0v3 · 5 months

Text

Octavian!

Do I know what I am going to write in this? Vaguely. More headcanons because I want to take a break from that rendering of Octavian because I want to work and make something better than putting effort into something I won’t be proud of or whatever.

Also I just want to keep talking about him but whatever,

Octavian never been outside of Camp Jupiter/New Rome is canon in my mind. There have been very few times he has been outside the little bubble, which were,

The Wolf House: where he really just stayed close to the house (obvi. Course I’d love to talk more about the exacts but since we get no information about the wolf house though it’d be a pretty good way to start SoN and then seamlessly blend us into a timeskip of the Gorgon chase but whatever- we are given no information about the wolf house either and aaaaa-) but the Wolf House Octavian mentality was survive through with his wits and try to survive enough to run out of there as soon as possible when he has the training done.

His quest: we get no information on it, but we know that he had to do a quest to become a Centurion (Can confirm this is a rule, check the Senate scene near the beginning, I believe it was Larry the legionnaire that yelled it) though we also, sadly, get no indication what this question was. But I’d like to introduce the idea that it was a duo quest with Michael and Octavian and they became Centurions together (I’ll probably re-read this and then add more on later) but I’d assume this Question also has them steeped pretty deep into the mythological side of the world and they didn’t get much down time. But what little of the mortal world Octavian saw he thought was pretty cool- though he still thinks New Rome looks better. (Because if anyone walks up to me and says the current era of architecture we’re in is better than anything that predates the freaking 1950’s is lying to me and trying to make me buy a house. We have fallen as a society when we started thinking ultra minimalist boring homes that are devoid of any depth or visual interest was the best route to go for our buildings. But that’s another rant from me for another day-)

Siege of Mt.Tam: they had to travel the smallest bit for this but again, didn’t interact with the mortal world much, they all stayed pretty self contained to the temporary camp and the mountain itself.

The cross country trip to go attack the Greeks: this is the one we’re shown in canon or whatever. But this was probably the most chaotic of the times that Octavian had been out of Camp. It was a lot to deal with, really overwhelming to be stuck with everyone with no where to move or anything. But this would be the most he would really interact with stuff like fast food chains, gas stations, all the stuff. And New York, that was a thing that happened. I believe they briefly passed through New York (we know that at some point they’re inside of New York from the Rachel scene if I remember properly) and that meant Hotels, it was similar enough to the barracks that it was fine. Though I think that the whiplash from New Rome to this made Octavian a lot more hesitant about stuff like these cities. He likes modern culture to some extent (insert another Build-a-bear joke. And if anyone asks, I believe he totally gets them delivered to calcedott tunnel instead of going out to a physical store. He has never had the experience and childlike splendor of making one that that needs to change.)

Anyway yeah. I would also like to say that Octavian is okay on a string instrument. However I would like to say that he put all his eggs into one figurative basket when he was a small child by learning one full song only. A 6 year old Octavian skipped over learning reading notes and whatever and just copying the motions until it sounded okay. He doesn’t really know how to read stuff like notes or whatever but has a pretty okay sense of Rhythm.

Don’t ask him to dance though. Octavian may look a little more elegant moving around or fighting but he is an actual newborn giraffe.

Okay that’s all I have for now. Have a rad time and I’ll get out the next couple passes of the CJ map.

#idk how to tag this #hehe :3 #pjo octavian #hoo octavian #okay bye #Octavian headcanon #seriously is it too much to ask to just get a little more information on Camp #the guidebook would’ve been a great opportunity to lay down anything that is actually informative but it’s just a short story #don’t get me wrong I think it’s great but like :[#also they name the Janus kid freaking JANICE and no I won’t get over it that’s terrible #whether or not that’s terrible in the good or bad way I don’t know yet but Janice is silly

22 notes · View notes

illarian-rambling · 1 month

Note

For the ask game:

🧡- what's your character's worst irrational fear?

💚- What does your character like to wear? Why do they wear the clothes they do?

🖤- What kind of music would your character listen to?

💕- What's your character's fatal flaw?

❤️‍🔥- Would you character go to heaven or hell? Where do they think they'd go?

Oh my, thank you! These are a lot (not a complaint) so I'll just answer for the original Mortal God cast

🧡- What's your character's worst irrational fear?

Astra's worst irrational fear is losing her ability to do magic somehow. This is irrational because book magic isn't intrinsic like sorcery. It'd be like being worried about forgetting how to read.

Mashal is dead terrified of bugs. This might seem strange for a (basically) robot, but it's not the biting or stinging that gives him the heebie jeebies. It's the idea of bugs getting into his chassis and him not noticing until they've laid a bunch of eggs in there. He's always paranoid during the fall about june bugs, because those suckers get into everything.

Ivander is scared of the dark. This might seem kind of childish, but Ivander is a son of the city. Before the events of the story, he'd never even left Unity, a city famous for its street lamps. The idea of true, croaking, country darkness unnerves him.

💚- What does your character like to wear? Why do they wear the clothes they do?

Astra is probably the only one of my characters with a signature look. She is always wearing a long coat of plum silk, with fanciful gold embroidery and slashed sleeves with crimson fabric beneath, many bows and bits of lace poking out at various places. The lining is plastered with hundreds of multicolored ribbons, each stitched with a specific rune. She can pull these rune ribbons from her cuffs or hem to throw at people, producing some magical effect or another. She does this because embroidering her runes beforehand makes it so she doesn't have to spend the first half of every fight painstakingly drawing a single fire rune. Also, cloth and thread can survive the elements a bit better than paper and ink. Astra is very proud of her gaudy coat, as it sets her apart from the licensed book magic she despises.

Mashal goes for baggier clothes, as anything too tight will get caught in his metal joints and rip. He wears a bandana tied over his scalp because he's sad he has no hair. In general, he covers up as much of his bronze plating as he can. He doesn't want it getting scuffed or scratched.

Ivander, the pompous lordling he is, wears a three piece suit to every occasion. And I mean every occasion. The man robbed a grave in a cravat once. He prefers satin, as it irritates his skin less, and he's gotten it down to a science which colors flatter his blue-tinged skin. He always wears his silver, onyx-headed tie pin, which carries his illusion. He grew up being forced to dress finely and never really lost the habit. He does legitimately also just like dressing like a fop.

🖤- What kind of music would your character listen to?

I'll just include some examples :)

Astra: You Make Me Sick! by Ashnikko, Monstarr by Ennaria, Depression by Hillbilly Moon Explosion , and Garbageman by The Cramps

Basically, just anything she could tinker to while listening at egregious volumes to keep her energy up. She'd definitely dance around a bit too, while working on stuff. It's canon that Astra loves music, she just lives in a time where jazz is only now being introduced. This is what she'd listen to with all of our modern music at her fingertips.

Mashal: Call Me, Call Me by Steve Conte, Space Age Love Song by Flock of Seagulls, Chain of Fools by Aretha Franklin, and Out of Touch by Daryl Hall and John Oates

The man likes love songs, what can I say. His taste is a lot chiller than Astra's, and played at a much quieter volume. He definitely would stay up late, all in his feels while listening to music. I would peg him as a Swiftie, but I don't listen to enough Taylor Swift to know.

Ivander: Far More Blue by The Dave Brubeck Quartet, Misty by Erroll Garner, Glad to be Unhappy by Paul Desmond, and Lullaby by Ray Bryant

He's a jazz snob, no two ways about it. Unlike some jazz snobs, he does legitimately enjoy the music, but he also very much enjoys flaunting his 'refined taste.' I think he'd play Watermelon Man by Herbie Hancock, and Mashal would legitimately lose his mind.

💕- What is your character's fatal flaw?

Astra's fatal flaws are two-fold. Her lack of self-confidence translates into pride as an overcompensation. That pride gets her into serious trouble when she's too stubborn to let it go and show the uncertainty beneath.

Mashal's fatal flaw, I would say, is his habit of making decisions for other people. Yes, there's his drive for revenge at all costs, but that has kept him alive through many a tight spot. When he decides he knows what's best and chooses something for someone that they might not want is when things get messy.

Ivander’s fatal flaw is his unwillingness to ask for help. He thinks he has to do everything by himself because that's how the world has treated him for the most part. However, he'll learn that if he crumbles under the weight of a burden he insisted on bearing alone, he might just take some other people along with him.

❤️‍🔥- Would your character go to heaven or hell? Where do you think they'd go?

Astra prays, when she bother to pray, to Erani, the Illarian goddess of ambition. This is a good fit, and Astra would hope she'd end up in the goddess's heaven. She will, as she ends up fulfilling her ambition, which is all Erani cares about.

Mashal is an adherent to Loqang, the god of loyalty - a common path of worship for Illarian soldiers. He worries about going to hell, since after his incident, he doesn't remember the oath he swore when he became a knight of Sulu'Oku. However, Loqang is a cool guy, and he respects loyalty to one's friends just as much as loyalty to an institution or code, so Mashal is getting into heaven.

Ivander has long been promised to Timaz, the god of greed, and since he's very aware that he's gotten on the god's bad side, he lives with the knowledge that he's condemned to hell. There's not a lot he can do about that. From my perspective, he's made friends with a halawemavish spirit of secrets, so maybe she can pull some strings.

Hope you all enjoyed this one!

#if i had a nickle for every character I've written who knew they were condemned to hell I'd have two nickles #writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #writing ask game

7 notes · View notes

wilted-woods · 1 year

Text

Just some drawings of my Narrators and some facts/headcanons uvu

I'll be making more soon because these are fun to do! ^-^

Lovebug! Narrator:

Likes cutesy things (ex; Sanrio plushies, collectables)

Human name: Valentino

Hates anything horror related (ex; gore, jumpscares, sudden loud noises)

Hates loud noises (sensory overload)

Prefers calm love songs instead of the new generations' love songs (for specific reasons asides from most of them being obnoxiously loud)

Loves music boxes (helps him fall asleep when his Stanley isn't around)

Does tolerate some of the new generations' music (His Stanley introduced him to some with bass that can help stimulate his brain whenever he's overwhelmed)

Loves romance movies

Almost anything related to REAL love and romance

Can be a HUGE baby sometimes

Loves sweet and savory foods (not overly sweet and savory or he'll have an outburst)

Not a big fan of candy but would eat a Twix if he wanted as he does tolerate chocolate

He likes to show Lovebug! Stanley his new swimsuit during warm weathers and wearing matching sweaters during cold weathers

Favorite season: Winter (because hot coco be hittin' different in his opinion also because he gets to be with his Stanley)

Original! Narrator:

Loves historical documentaries and movies

Human name: Woodhaven

WILL lecture about any topic of his interest when given the chance (ex; The History of Chernobyl)

Rarely sleeps

Likes to read and write poetry

His favorite poet so far is Edgar Allan Poe (his favorite works are "Annabel Lee", "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Raven")

He rarely sketches anything

He prefers classical music but would attempt to listen to some of Stanley's suggestions (so far he tolerates Deaftones and Nirvana)

He mostly listens to Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin and a couple of other composers

Loves historical paintings

He likes mostly savory foods

Enjoys a nice cup of tea in the morning and before bed

Tries to understand modern slang terms but miserably fails as he can't get himself to understand a majority of them so he always tend to ask Stanley for some clarifications (ex; "Stanley, what do they mean by 'Side-eye, bombastic side-eye and criminal offensive side-eye'?? Why are bombs and criminal offenses involved?? How does that relate to the conversation?? What is the purpose of that???")

Stanley would sometimes mock the "Toodle-pip" since it was so unexpected but did find it somewhat cute-

He prefers "The Happy Room" that's located at the Zending to relieve overwhelming emotions

Stanley's presence makes him feel better sometimes, he just won't admit it

He can get upset pretty quick

Prefers calm and cool weather

Favorite season: Fall/Autumn

Hanahakai! Narrator (also the one who was in the chain lmao and his Stanley is still trying to find him because this is the longest he hasn't been able to find him- he never meant any harm lmao):

A complete softy

Has an unknown memory disorder

Human name: Willow

Sometimes forgets who his Stanley is

Forgets the simplest things (ex; his tie)

Ends up in strange places and situations (ex; he got stuck in a tree and has no clue on how he got up there)

Loves watching the sunset

Loves stargazing

He's an oldies type of guy

His usual favorite songs are "It's A Long Way To Tipperary" by John McCormack and "We'll Meet Again" by Vera Lynn

Sleeps a lot (even to the point where it's unhealthy and his Stanley has to try and keep him awake)

His Stanley has to keep a very close eye on him or at least keep an ear out (metaphorically)

His Stanley is basically like a caregiver

Wonders off a lot (hence how he ends up in said situations)

Prefers calm and breezy weather

Makes desserts from naturally grown ingredients and has only one (1) Cow and one (1) Goat for dairy

Favorite season: Spring and warm breezy Summers

I also added a good amount so it wouldn't be so empty and I'm already invested with these ideas of mine-

#tsp #tsp narrator #tspud #tspud narrator #the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra delux #my aus #lovebug narrator #tsp lovebug au #my headcanons

29 notes · View notes

spaceless-vacuum · 1 year

Note

☕ [futuristic and medieval characters meeting]

(love your work btw ^°^)

So for these I don't know what they would say to each other, but I do know what ideas and knowledge the modern chain would share with the mediaeval chain.

Modern!Wild introduces Wild to so many new types of recipes. They sit and chat for hours about everything they've seen, what they've been fighting, how the technology of the sheikah slate has been involved, and everything that has to do with the advancement of machines. Wild spent a lot of time with the divine beasts and nothing came close. Until modern Wild went on an airplane and rollercoasters. He is a huge fan of both and is quite the thrill seeker in that regard. I think he’s got quite the kick from finding out how they work and would like to be a mechanical engineer.

Especially Since tears of a kingdom, not 100% the same Wild but I think he would be so interested in robotics and the like. Both as a way to cope with his new arm and because of the new technology. It would scratch an itch in his brain as to how everything works.

Both version of Wind would love talking about marine biology and sea life. We dont sea (get it?) much ocean life in windwaker but I can imagine Modern!Wind finding out about coral reefs and scuba diving and being so excited. You measn theres veen more fish than he origanlly thought? Theres aquariams!!! That's not even talking about all the different types of boats there are, and now theers engines on them.

He drags Warriors off every weekend to go sailing with him. Sky loves to join so he can feel the wind in his hair but there's a lot of difference between this and flying.

One thing I think Modern!Wind would try to explain is how much faster these boats are, and bigger too! He gets stuck on trying to explain a yacht because it seems useless, until he points out how fun it would be to steal from it. The pirating dies hard in this one and I think he would have a case of sticky fingers for chain stores.

Sky would miss his Loftwing but would enjoy travelling the world. He’s almost always on holiday and misses the days of his adventure when it wasnt so serious and he could do almost everything at his own pace.

Sorry if this isn't a lot. My brain just shut off after I started to write for Sky’s part and I couldn't turn it back on. I think this idea is neat but mostly I think a lot of it would be the modern side of the chain explaining themselves and trying to pass down wisdom to their alternatives.

Yet the alternatives would absolutely be so confusing. It's like that meme where someone gives a Victorian child a jolly rancher except it’s wind giving himself super sour candy and finding out his other side hates it so much.

Modern!Time: “Remember guys we cant give them guns, it’s not fair and it's just not right.”

Modern!Legend: *casually shoves the entirety of a walmart back into his inventory* “That’s right guys, we shouldnt do anything of the sort.”

Modern!Hyrule: “-and there's different blood types so you have to be careful who you give a transfusion to but we know that Twilights blood type is O-negative so that should be good to give to everyone-”

Hyrule: “you lost me when you said germs can mutate.”

#eye write #ask and answer #linkeduniverse #linked universe #modern legend of zelda #Link #lu wind #lu sky #lu wild

39 notes · View notes

c-40 · 4 months

Text

A-T-4 005 Manuel Göttsching - E2-E4

I'm going straight in with what is probably the most enduring and influential pieces of electronic ambient music of 1984. Of all of Manuel Göttsching's compositions E2-E4 was one that has crossed over to fans of Dub Reggae, Disco, Prog Rock, Techno, Vapour Wave, and a many more musical styles

Any nerd will tell you it was recorded in December 1981 but it didn't see a release date until 1984. E2-E4 is a performance recorded for himself in a single take one December evening. Its intention was to help Göttsching wind down from a recent long tour. "“I was flying to Hamburg the next day and I thought I’d record something to listen to on my Walkman during the flight,” says Göttsching. The piece was improvised and entirely in the moment."[2] There was something about the recording that he couldn't just shelve alongside the many other tapes he'd made for this purpose over the years, he knew he'd hit on something different and special. In interviews from the late 2010s Göttsching continually highlights his delight at how well the recording had come out from a technical point of view. When a friend said he would love to release something by him on their new independent record label E2-E4 was ready to go. Göttsching was a key member of Ash Ra Tempel and he released solo work as Ashra he decided not to do that with E2-E4 and for the first time puts something out under his own name

The initial reaction in Berlin was negative, it was described as "muzak"[2]. In a 2019 interview with LoudAnd Quiet, Göttsching said "“The newspapers said I have not understood anything in the modern developments of electronic music,” Göttsching says of the initial reactions from Germany. “They said I should better listen to Depeche Mode.” The Berlin Magazine apologised to Göttsching a decade later, saying they probably made a big mistake."[1] Luckily E2-E4 was picked up by djs in New York, all articles point at Larry Levan introducing it into the New York club scene of the 1980s. “I was a bit surprised people were actually dancing to it,” says Göttsching now. “I didn’t record it in the sense of a dance piece. The drums were very in the background, and it’s not really a ‘bom bom bom’ bass”[1]

Like many people I first heard E2-E4 when it was used as the backbone of 1989 italo house classic Sueno Latino. It was hidden in plain sight as Balearic Mike discovers "One early Italian pressing [of Sueno Latino] on DFC even names the track, E2-E4"[3]

Manuel Göttsching died just over a-year-ago on December 4, 2022

Last year the supermarket chain ASDA did a range of homewares, duvets/bathmats/etc in a checkerboard with the same coffee and cream colour way that the sleeve of E2-E4 has, it reminded me of the record

It's a stunning piece of music. Hear it in its entirety below

youtube

quotes

[1] https://www.loudandquiet.com/interview/the-story-of-e2-e4-manuel-gottschings-accidental-masterpiece/

[2] https://thevinylfactory.com/features/manuel-gottsching-e2-e4/

[3]https://banbantonton.com/2023/01/22/balearic-mikes-musical-diets-in-memory-of-manuel-gottsching/

#1984 #manuel göttsching #ambient #electronic #minimal #berlin #germany #80s music

4 notes · View notes

justplainwhump · 1 year

Text

Not Products

Inspired by @gottawhump and many other wonderful BBU writers. My first piece diving deeper into the safehouse system.

This is set some years in the future of Angel's timeline, and far into her recovery. (Yet right before a certain... setback)

Content - BBU, debts, mafia structures, implied human trafficking, implied forced prostitution, threats, noncon touching, BBU romantic.

The building that Kayleigh stopped in front of was large, elegant modern structures of carefully twisted glass, to make it shimmer in the sunlight.

Orange letters were running down the side of the building, and Angel fought the nausea rising up from looking at them too long, she could read, she just needed to be strong. Coo- Coopers and - and Bard. Att-

She didn't go on trying to decipher the letters of the remaining words. Attorneys at Law. She could deduce those ones.

'Lawyers. Worst kind of people', a voice echoed in her head, followed by hearty laugh. 'But we need them, don't we?'

She didn't know whose voice it was, one of the ghosts that lived on inside her, and she'd learned to live with.

"Wow", Kayleigh whispered, putting her head back and squinting up at the sheer size of the building. "Still can't believe it. Wouldn't have thought that someone like Coopers finds an interest in helping us out."

"They wouldn't if it didn't support their business," Angel remarked dryly. "People like Coopers? They're just the ones who'd still happily own pets if it had remained en vogue."

"Angel," Kayleigh hissed. "I know you hate rich people. Your owner hurt you, I get that, I -"

"Do not go down this road with me ." Angel clenched her teeth. "This is not about me, or my past. I am your colleague, not your charge. This is about the future of our house, and the question, if we want someone like Coopers can help us. All I'm saying is: He has a price, and we'll need to decide if we want to pay it."

"Maybe he just has a conscience?"

"He works with organised crime. We're both aware of this, aren't we?"

"Well, we're criminals, too. You even more than I am. What we're doing is highly illegal. Doesn't make it wrong."

"Well, what Coopers and Bard have their fingers in, is pretty wrong often enough."

"Shut up." Anger flared up in Kayleigh's eyes. "I didn't bring you to talk me out of this. You couldn't - haven't seen our numbers, how bad it looks. We need him, or we'll have to shut down the safe house."

Angel hadn't seen the numbers indeed, she had tried once, but the headache had grown too bad. She had however seen the clumsy system Kayleigh used to track the safehouse's finances. She shouldn't judge her, for doing her best. But she did judge her for her rejection of any advice.

"Yeah," she said, somewhat of a bitter laugh on her lips. "You brought me because I look good in business attire."

She held Kayleigh's gaze, while she pinned a button to the lapel of her blazer. People, not products.

"Don't flash this to me like this." Kayleigh sighed. "I brought you because you know how to read a room."

"Soft skills," Angel intonated with a little sing song. "Yeah. That tracks." She stepped back and gestured at the door. "After you. Boss."

Philip Coopers was a tall man with warm eyes and a firm handshake. Auburn hair, a little longer than usually considered appropriate for a business like this, a tailored navy coloured suit, probably from London, expensive leather shoes - Angel couldn't tell how she knew all this, but the she did.

"My assistant, Mx Carter," he introduced the thin person next to him. "Nice to meet you again, Kayleigh, and this is your friend?"

"Colleague," Angel corrected. "Angelina Harris. I am in charge of the practical side of things at our... house."

She felt his gaze take him in, shortly rest on her hands as she shook his. There was a thin silver chain dangling around her wrist, a tiny bracelet, that could hide nothing underneath. And there wasn't anything to hide either. Her skin had healed, the scars from the tattoo removal so tiny they could only be seen when light caught them from a specific angle. Nothing but a faint memory.

"Well, it's a pleasure." He invited them to sit at a conference table set up in his impressive office. "I am looking forward to support you, and to do my part to help you continuing your important work."

Angel bit her tongue to hold back a sarcastic return. This was Kayleigh's turf. Even though it sometimes felt like her own.

"We've talked about the general idea, let's just nail down the specifics." He gestured at his assistant, who took over, and Angel listened - rates, book keeping, conditions, existing and future contacts that needed to be covered.

It was all too easy. Too high amounts, too few conditions. Too good to be true, not from a man like this, running a business like his.

"Oh, and before I forget", he said, and Angel's gaze perked up. He'd never forget anything, his behaviour had made that abundantly clear. This was going to be the thing she'd been waiting for. "We'd like to employ the services of a psychological consultant. To make sure the... refugees are treated according to their needs."

"They are," Angel said. "We're making sure of that."

"That's a little different," Coopers insisted with a condescending little smile. "We would want them to meet the consultant right upon arrival, so they can determine which place is best equipped for them."

Angel frowned. "Are there more safehouses that you support?"

The assistant tilted their head. "*Places*," they said. "Safe spaces."

"And what's the criteria?"

"For the safehouses?"

"No. For the people, contacting *us*, arriving at our doorstep, to be let in or turned down."

"They're not turned down, Ms Harris. On the contrary. They're going to be cared for."

"So. Your only condition for funding us is to be allowed to psychologically screen runaways and then determine whether they go to us or somewhere else." She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Angel," Kayleigh mumbled. "Calm down."

She didn't intent to. "Running a safehouse is expensive. Food, rent, medical bills, therapies, compensations for the volunteers."

"It is."

"What's your gain?"

"Doing the right thing is not enough?"

"No." Angel shook her head. "Not from you. You know what I think? Prices for a well trained guard dog from WRU start at about 250k, as far as I know. Romantics, similar. Can be much more, depending on specifics. Seven figures, even." She leaned in. "Is that your return? Acquisition for your preferred clients? Private security? Prostitution?"

"Interesting." His mouth twisted into a smile. "You've looked into the more hidden corners of our client list."

She shrugged. "I like to be thorough." She still heard the monotonous voice of the screen reader. Even set high speed, it had cost her many sleepless nights finding the names she'd been looking for.

"I see." He smirked. "But let me ask you. What if these... wild theories were right? Worst case scenario. You'd still run a safe house, one that as I understand it has absolutely no funds otherwise. One that Kayleigh here has put her college fund into, and bet her grandmother's house on."

Metal scrapped on wood when Kayleigh pushed her chair back, pale and trembling. "I... That's..." She shook her head, gaze to the floor, almost feverish in her movements as she pressed her hand to her mouth. "I... need to use the washroom, please?"

Upon their boss' gesture, the assistant jumped to their feet and opened the door. "Of course, Miss. I'll show you the way."

Coopers looked past the two of them, before he turned back to Angel.

"Sacrifices," he said, all but savoring the word. "That's what keeps your system running. That's what saves dozens of runaways, who already found shelter in your place, who you managed to get to safety and into a fulfilling life. Your friend sacrificed all she had for the case. And you refuse to reroute a single one of these... sluts, to a place that suits them better?" Carefully embedded between well chosen words, the slur cut into her like a hidden blade.

"Yes," she whispered. Her throat was constricted all of a sudden.

"What is your problem, Ms Harris? We give them shelter, warmth, food, company - they're having each other there, something I hear some of them have missed desperately in their past lives." He cocked his head as he said it, with a soft smile, that mocked understanding and was everything but. These has been her own words once, she herself had talked like that about her past, feeling constantly alone and desperate for company. He couldn't possibly know, she told herself. She was here with Kayleigh, with her colleague, she was an activist with a spotless wrist and a normal past. And she wouldn't let him get through with this.

She raised her chin decidedly. "You want to sell them out. Abuse their conditioning, instead of helping them overcome it."

"Ah," he tutted. "Shush. Selling them out, that's a strong word. They work for a living, like the safehouse system prepares everyone for. Like normal people do. According to their specific... qualifications."

She took a breath, trying to calm her racing heart, setting out to speak, but he talked over her. "Imagine one of them trying to do my job." He reached for a one of the documents scattered over his desk and held it up, presenting it to her. Little letters danced over the paper, twisting and turning, a garbled mess in front of her eyes, all but mocking her. It was sickening. She averted her gaze, and he chuckled. "Some people are made to think, Angelina. To make decisions, to manage large businesses, to read and understand things, you know. Others, however..." He waited until she looked up, holding her gaze for another moment. She couldn't breathe. "Others," he went on, "are simply made to fuck."

She stumbled to her feet, shaking her head. Her elegant blouse was too tight, the collar tightening around her neck. "We're not," she struggled to say, fighting the voices in her head, Handler Nguyen, Handler Parker, Sir, telling her the same words. "We... They, they're not, nobody is."

The man was grinning now, and it took her too long to realize. She'd played right into his hand. "Oh, Angelina. You're making this about yourself, aren't you? How come you're relating so hard, hm?" He closed in, the sort of casual, measured steps that she knew should make her run, but they made her freeze instead. "Tell me," he whispered, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear. His touch was soft, almost gentle, his hand warm on her skin, and she knew how she should react, and she knew she shouldn't. "Tell me, Angel, what were you made for?"

#bbu #bbu story #bbu pet lib #angels story #angel #kayleigh #philip coopers #mafia whump #bbu romantic #recovery #no idea how to tag this #I guess it's kinda obvious #anyway #this is fun

32 notes · View notes

valtharr · 2 months

Text

I posted this to the alternate history subreddit and got zero responses, maybe Tumblr is more interested in discussing this idea?

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

You ever create an alternate timeline just to indulge in your own nostalgia?

...just me? Okay...

Anyway, for a while now, I've been thinking about an alternate present where present-day sensibilities and everyday life are closer to what they were like pre-2010. Since the biggest influence on modern day life during that time arguably came from the rise of the Internet, social media, and related things, pretty much all of my thoughts center around that.

The point of divergence here is that the Millennium Bug (aka "Y2K") was just as devastating as people feared it would be. Databanks were wiped, machinery failed, there was loads of general unrest as people were falsely classified as deceased, didn't get their paychecks, and other major and minor consequences of their data being either wrong, or gone completely. In some cases, it took years to clean up the mess completely.

This, coupled with the bursting of the dotcom bubble not much later, led to a general wariness and distrust towards anything having to do with the Internet. Businesses might have still been okay with using their homepage as interactive billboards, but it turned out to be almost impossible to find investors or loans if your business directly relied on the Internet. And even those who did get their idea off the ground, failed to find a large enough audience. As such, social media like Facebook and Twitter are barely, if at all, a thing in this world. This is also partly due to smartphones, and therefore smartphone apps, never breaking into the mainstream. Apple could not establish its new iPhone as the lifestyle gimmick of choice, instead going all-in on their iPods, music players that you insert USB drives, and, in modern variants, SD cards into to listen to your favorite tunes. The newest model has three card slots, letting you choose between three different albums on the go!

Streaming, of course, also isn't a thing. No Netflix or iTunes to inspire copycats. Blockbuster partners with Microsoft for their new HD-DVD technology, establishing it as the primary medium to watch videos at home. Sony, meanwhile, focuses its efforts into combining a handheld gaming console and a portable video player. The PSP becomes a huge hit.

But, speaking of video games, online games are an almost negligible market. There's less of a focus on high-end Internet speeds, so playing with friends is an activity mostly relegated to your own home. Microtransactions and subscription services are not a thing.

Some popular websites do establish themselves, but they're far from being as influential and popular as in our world. Youtube stays afloat, but is mostly seen as a place to find new creators, and then follow them onto their own web presence. Very few people manage to make a living off of it, and corporations, TV stations, etc won't be found dead making their own YouTube channels.

Without social media, interactions online are still relegated to message boards and chat rooms, with the accompanying implicit netiquette. Which of course means, everything's still pretty anonymous. Without Facebook introducing the idea of using your real name and photo as part of your online presence (nobody joins a Pokémon fan forum expecting their old classmates to find them there, after all), pseudonyms and avatars rule the day. This, of course, makes it almost impossible for artists to really find an audience, much less make a living off their art. Even if they did find lots of people who enjoy their work, the lack of services like PayPal, Patreon, or Kickstarter, makes it nigh impossible to actually make a profit as an independent online artist. Some find a way, but the concepts of "influencers" and "content creators" never develop.

Amazon fails to establish itself as a major online marketplace. It makes enough for Jeff Bezos to start a chain of brick and mortar bookstores, with the online storefront being more of an afterthought. Most, if not all online shopping is really just individuals selling their old stuff, usually locally.

That's all I really have so far. I'd love to hear some more ideas, maybe things that aren't as tech-centric? Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

#alternate history #alternative history #modempunk #y2kcore #worldbuilding #world building

2 notes · View notes

nalyra-dreaming · 1 year

Note

When we meet modern-era Lestat, I need him to be EITHER post-Memnoch breakdown Lestat, chained in the basement, wonky eyeball, screaming, frothing, ranting about God, OR I need him to be in QotD preening rockstar mode, insta-famous, drunk on adulation, manically missing Louis but coping by being toxic on his podcast and wearing really tight leather. I don't care which of these versions I get, but it'd better be one of them. I'll feel so cheated if he isn't pure chaos. What do you think?

Hey nonny!

Oh gosh YES, I'd love that.

All that and more *laughs* ESPECIALLY the wonky eyeball. (I really felt quite cheated when Anne didn't "make" anything out of that in later books... I mean, what good is it to get an eye back that was stolen by the friggin' Devil, if it doesn't do anything after??? Ugh. Being also a Naruto fan... seriously, that eye should have had POWERS. Gnahhhh.)

However, I'm not sure how we would get from season 2 IWTV to season 3 TVL then... (if he's still ranting I mean). So yeah, maybe better the bitching-on-a-podcast version^^.

I keep on returning to the somewhat snide remarks in regards to the "inferior recording" and "mediocre star" (which surely had a second meaning, as everything does in this darn show), which would imply that Louis and Armand... had some connection/interaction? with Lestat before the second interview. Especially for the inferior recording... Lestat must have been around at some point. Why would he re-record this song without... incentive.

And why would Louis call it inferior. 😈

But yes, whatever way they introduce him in modern Dubai... it better be chaotic. It better be bitchy. And hot.

#asks #they better #indeed #thank you nonny #iwtv #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #future season speculation #ask nalyra

20 notes · View notes

pearwaldorf · 1 year

Text

A ficlet for day 1 of @ofmdjanuaury! Prompt is "library". Disgustingly saccharine modern AU.

Stede opens the door for Alma and Louis as they step into the library. Normally Mary or Doug would take care of this, but they're on a well deserved vacation. And it's nice to be able to spend time with just them. Ironic that he's a better father after the divorce, but he supposes not being consumed with misery at his daily existence helps a great deal.

The kids return their books in the drop and go over to the children's section. It's well appointed, with squashy cushions and READ posters everywhere. There's a man in a purple t-shirt shelving books. He looks up when he hears them coming.

God, he's fucking gorgeous. His silver hair is twisted in a bun, the same shade as his short-cropped beard. He's smiling, his eyes warm as he sees the children.

"Ed!" Alma squeals, louder than Stede thinks is appropriate for a library, and throws her arms around him.

"Alma!” He hugs her back enthusiastically. “How's my favorite little lady?"

"Good. Our dad's here today 'cause Mom and Doug are on vacation." She gestures imperiously for Stede to come over.

"Hello," Stede manages.

"You haven't been introduced yet!" Alma looks at him like he should know better (and maybe she's right). "Dad, this is Edward the librarian. He says to call him Ed but that's his full name. Ed, this is my dad. His name is Stede."

"Pleased to meet you," Ed says, extending his hand. Stede grasps it. It’s a good handshake: firm but not crushing. He absolutely does not think about those hands other places.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go help Louis find some new books to borrow?”

“Okay! Come find us later.” She looks up at him, all too knowing, before she joins her brother by the picture books.

“So, you’re Dad. I’ve heard all about you.” Stede catches the briefest of once-overs, so quick he might have imagined it, except for the way Ed leans closer, resting against the shelves.

“I’m sure it’s all terrible.” He tries to keep his voice light. The only people who would have anything to say about him would be the kids and Mary, maybe Doug. They certainly have quite a bit to be resentful about, although he doesn’t know how much detail they might have gone into.

“Less than you think, mate.” Ed’s voice is low, serious. “And pardon me if this is way too personal, but you’re not the only guy in the world who’s woken up and realized they’ve felt like they’ve been drowning on dry land for way too long.”

“I see.” Stede’s voice is barely above a whisper. It should feel intrusive, at the very least weird, to be clocked this way by a virtual stranger, but a sense of relief, no, recognition almost overwhelms him.

“Mary’s talked a little about it, but Alma?” Ed glances over at her, still engrossed in whatever she’s doing with Louis. “You’re her dad. She loves you, she’s seen how you’ve changed.”

“I’ve tried to make up for… before. I think I still have a ways to go.” His hand goes to the chain under his shirt, almost without thinking.

“May I?”

Stede nods and Ed pulls at the chain, fishing it out. His hand is warm. The orange heart necklace he shares with Alma swings gently, along with the birthstone charm for both children.

“You could have faffed off, gone your own way and never talked to the rest of your family again. But you didn’t. And that’s something.”

“I suppose it is.”

“Daddy?” Louis pipes up, and Stede and Ed jump apart. Alma, still in the picture book section, smirks.

“Yes darling?”

“I’m ready to check out.” The pile of books in his arms is tall enough he can barely see over them.

“All right then. Do you need help?” Louis shakes his head and very carefully makes his way over to the circulation desk.

Stede glances at Ed, who’s keeping an eye on Louis’s journey with a fond expression. He likes this man, even if they’ve just met. He’s spent so much time not doing what he wants that he feels the need to make up for it now.

“We’re going out for hot chocolate, if you’d like to join us? Of course I don’t know your schedule, but we can do it another time—”

“I’m off shift in ten minutes. But I don’t think anybody will mind if I slip out a little bit early.” Ed winks. “See you in the parking lot?”

“Daddy! I need my library card!” Louis calls.

Stede grins. “I’ll meet you there.”

#OFMDJanuAUry #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #gentlebeard #modern stede bonnet is exactly the type of sentimental bitch to wear birthstone jewelry #i feel this in my bones #i wrote a thing

13 notes · View notes