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#and maybe some of this stuff is actually in some entirely different book for all I know :|
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Things that I know about A Stitch In Time prior to listening to it:
Garak goes to spy school, which is for spies (for some reason the idea of this is amusing to me. like I get it duh of course the Order must have some sort of training system but also. fanfic ass trope. Spy School! For Spies! it's even a boarding school and everything. DARKEST ACADEMIA)
Garak performs a classic bisexual rite of passage by falling in love with both members of an older(?) married couple (or well textually probably only the wife. I feel like I'd have heard about it if he were Betacanonically Queer (TM) in this book. but here's hoping I'll be astonished while listening!)
I can't remember if I read anything specific about it or not but just based on vibes alone I do not have high hopes for this couple's like. life expectancy.
Based on vibes alone I do not have high hopes for ANY character's life expectancy in this book tbh. If it involves Cardassians in general and Garak in specific I usually just assume everyone involved is doomed. This is going to be a FUN 12 hours and 28 minutes!
There was a post somewhere that mentioned that some supernatural magical stuff happens in this book and I'm SO FUCKING STOKED. HERE'S HOW GARAK ORB EXPERIENCE CAN STILL WIN!!!!
The entire concept of this book is so funny to me. Garak goes 7 years being ohhh so mysterious to Julian about himself or his past and then just spills his whole life story to him in a letter as soon as they're separated. Babygirl is going through Bashir Withdrawal Syndrome.
Most importantly KELAS MY BEST FRIEND KELAS FROM ONE (1) LINE OF CANON!!!!! I have no actual evidence that he ever shows up in this book but like he has to right. right. he's absolutely everywhere on ao3 y'all had to have gotten him from somewhere. I assume.
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star-girl69 · 3 months
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She Calls Me Baby
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader
—-
synopsis: college au, in which you slowly realize something is wrong with your girlfriend.
a/n: love this song. had to do it sorry. anyways this sucks actual BALLS but idc i just have to write something or else i will lose my empire and title as mother of clarisse tumblr ☹️
Jackie and Wilson - Hozier
warnings: NOT BETA READ, im sure this is so discombobulated but IDC!!!!!! anyways, swearing, mentions of death and the usual demigod stuff, mentions of monsters, idk pretty chill…, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Your favorite story Clarisse ever told you is the one about soulmates.
She told it to you in the dark, in her bed, hand on the side of your face as she whispered to you like you were secret lovers.
She told you that humans once had two heads and four arms, but Zeus thought they would grow to be too powerful and split them apart. Hearts split in two, detained to roam the earth, trying to find each other.
That’s how it feels with Clarisse- like you’ve known her for years, like your bodies were born of the same speck of dust, souls grew next to each other, fires inside of you burning in the same altar for a hundred years before you met.
Clarisse approached you fast- hard and unrelenting like a hurricane. She wanted whatever she could take from you, love, comfort, a one-night.
It scared her when you wanted to give.
It was kind of crazy how easily the two of you just fit together, crazy how you both liked some things, both hated things, hated something things she liked and nice versa. It was like there was this natural balance between you, everything sort of cosmically weighed out- and it just felt so right to be with her that everything else faded away.
But it was clear that Clarisse fell head over heels for you, the way she would smile and just tell you that you were so different, so much better than her. You were everything she wasn’t, and she resented you so much for it she loved you.
You weren’t exactly sure why Clarisse loved you so much- maybe it was the way you respect her past, maybe it was the way you didn’t push- you just accepted the crazy and tried your best to save her with what little information you did have. It surprised her and you when you became the one to get greedy, to take from her, but you knew she loved the feeling of being wanted.
But lately, Clarisse has been particularly… off. It’s not exam season, so you can’t chalk it up to that. And she’s the most talented player on the field hockey team, you’ve seen her play- she’s overconfident and for good reason. She has no reason to be stressed there, unless somethings changed.
But something tells you it’s not that.
The first real concrete clue you ever got was when you first met her.
The library is where you met Clarisse. The one closest to your dorm hall, the one that’s two floors and built like an out-of-place Greek temple- it always makes you smile when Clarisse gives it a dirty look, trying to persuade you to go to any other library. It doesn’t make sense to you- why go to the one all the way across campus when this one is only a five minute walk?
She always seems on edge when she meets you in here, but she bites it back and won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. She says it’s just a weird thing she has, hard to explain, so you let it go when she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she smiles, pulling out the chair next to you. She glances around the library, not nervously, but observant. Ready, waiting. She’s always been able to do that- scan an entire room in seconds and find out everything.
“Hi,” you smile, stretching as you push your books away from you, grateful for the distraction her brown eyes and sweet voice provide.
She picks up a textbook you’ve pushed off to the side. She scoffs at the title, mumbling about how she still doesn’t know why you would choose the major you did.
“How was practice?” you ask, choosing to ignore her remarks in favor of soaking up her attention and the much needed distraction.
“Boring,” she hums, rubbing her foot up and down your leg, head in her hands. “Freshmen are pissin’ me off, they don’t know shit. Coach has to teach them all the basics over again.”
You lay your head on a thick textbook, staring up at her. “The freshmen are always shitty. Then you love them by the end of the year.”
“I don’t,” she huffs, but some of her favorite members of the team are the freshmen she hated her sophomore year. “Whatever. It’s different, they all suck. Shouldn’t be here.”
“Sure,” you say, yawning again.
“Okay, did you not sleep last night?” she chuckles.
You shrug sheepishly, Clarisse is always so adamant you sleep and eat enough, but sometimes you have to sacrifice the little things for your grades.
“I had a test this morning, stayed up a little later cramming.”
“Uh-huh, so, like, until 1 in the morning? Worse?”
You hold your breath, sitting up as you conveniently look away from her. “3,” you exhale.
She smiles and puts a piece of hair behind your ear.
“But,” you smile, sensing the lecture. “After these five questions, I can be all yours for the rest of the day.”
She pretends to weigh her options.
“Well, I do like the sound of that.”
—-
The second clue is the way she always seems like she’s running away from something.
Your rooms are blessedly only a few doors down from each other, so someone is always sneaking into someone else’s and your roommates have both learned to deal with it.
Silena, Clarisse’s roommate, only greets you with a smile as you sheepishly slip past her in the mornings- Clarisse’s shirt haphazardly slipped over you.
So, on this day, you’re slumped in bed while Clarisse promises to take care of you, and you’re all too happy to let her.
She’s already spent the last hour lying with you in bed, letting you sleep on top of her- forcing you to catch up on some much needed hours of rest with her soft voice in your ear and hand trailing up your back.
She only got up when you mentioned you were hungry, immediately suggesting the idea of ordering from your favorite restaurant, refusing to be swayed by you back into your warm bed.
So, here you were, scrolling on your phone while you waited for the click of the door and the smell of hot food. And it comes, you prepare to make some quip about how dare she leaves you for almost a half hour.
Her keys jangle in her hands as she quickly shuts the door, turning around and pressing her back against it. She breathes out, heavily, before her eyes meet yours and she studies the shocked and confused look on your face.
“Ran up the stairs,” she smiles, leaving her keys and wallet on top of your dresser, dropping the bag of food on your bed before she goes to the window, peeking out of it. “Didn’t want my princess waiting for too long,” she chuckles.
You don’t even look at the bag of food in front of you. You reach out and grab her hand, and she flinches, but pulls away from the window and into your touch.
“Clarisse,” you breathe, and panic flashes in her eyes as she quickly rips open the bag.
“C’mon, don’t let it get cold.”
“Clar… baby,”
“Wanna watch a movie? Or play a game? Anything you want, sweetheart, jus’ say the word.”
—-
The third clue is the fact that you’re 99% sure she’s seeing things.
It sounds horrible to say, and sometimes late at night when she’s asleep against you, you wonder what the hell you’re supposed to do. You’ve only met her mom a few times, never met her father- Silena and her have been friends for years, but you still feel like it all falls to you.
It doesn’t, legally, maybe not even morally- but she’s your girlfriend. You should know what she wants, you should be able to advocate for her when she can’t.
So, the best thing you can think to do it ignore it. You pretend it doesn’t concern you, you pretend you don’t see it, you pretend because you can’t even think about the idea of her not being her, of her being away from you.
You focus on the moment.
You love these walks with Clarisse, her hand warm in yours. It was moments like these where you felt like Clarisse was your sun. Yes, the setting sun was warm against your back, but nothing made you feel alive like Clarisse did. Your hands swing together, hitting your hip, and she seamlessly switches from your hand to wrapping at arm around your waist.
You smile at her, cheeks hot. You go to adjust your bag as a means of distracting yourself, but your hand awkwardly ends up floating in the air when you realize Clarisse took your bag when she picked you up from your last class.
As if sensing the awkwardness, she hikes the tote bag farther up her shoulder.
“What’re your plans today, pretty girl?”
You hum, feeling so at ease with the way she calls you that pet name, with the way she squeezes you closer to her.
“Well, I finished my big project yesterday, don’t really have anything else to do, so I was just gonna chill. What ‘bout you?”
“Ugh,” she groans. “I have practice until 8. But I’ll come over after? And spend the night?”
You smile, laughing softly.
“I don’t know why you even ask anymore.”
“It’s polite,” she smiles. “I’m a very polite person, only when it comes to you.”
“I’ll see you at 8:15, huh?”
“Obviously,” she huffs, kissing your temple. Again, you feel like cheeks heat like this is the first day you met her. It’s embarrassing to be affected by her so much, but it’s also so sweet. Only she can draw out these reactions from you, this potent all these months later. It still feels like the first day with her sometimes, but you also feel like you’ve known her for years.
She bites her lip and hisses a curse word under her breath.
“What?” you ask, snapped out of the way she holds you so perfectly, following her eye line. She stares firmly in between two cars, but there’s nothing there.
“Nothing,” she says, not taking her eyes away from that spot- not even blinking, you realize after a second. She hides the way she gets, that unrelenting focus like when she’s playing in a game, with a laugh.
“Thought I saw that bitch from my 11am.” You look at her. You don’t believe her. She knows you don’t. And it breaks your heart that something is clearly happening, and you can’t force yourself to feel bad for ignoring it, and you can’t force her to tell you. “C’mon, let’s go.”
She moves to hold your hand and drags you off forcefully toward the direction of the entrance. She squints, almost like she’s driving off something with her mind.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, squeezing her hand, feeling unsettled just by the way she’s so clearly ready for a fight. It’s like she can see something you can’t.
She risks a small glance at you, a normal looking smile.
“It’s all good, baby. I’ve got you,” she smiles, reaching back like she’s stretching, but something where there’s nothing glints in the sunlight.
—-
The fourth clue is the fight with Silena.
She asked you to meet her at her dorm, wear something nice and pretty, and you’ll go out for a nice dinner and some ice cream. She’s been so busy with practice lately, it makes your entire body squeeze the way she jumps to spend time with you at the first off day she gets.
You smooth down your pretty top, the one you know you look good in, the one you know she likes. You’re about to knock on the door when you realize it’s been left open, just a crack. That’s when their voices rise, enough so you can hear them.
“It different now, Clar!”
“It’s. Not. It’s not different, it will never be different, nothing will ever change.”
“Before, Clarisse, when you told me you had this crush on the girl in your econ class, I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t care. But, Gods, Clarisse, anyone can see it’s different. She’s not just some girl, she’s your girl, your girlfriend, and you’re totally in love with her.”
“I know that,” she huffs. “I’m the one who’s actually in love with her. I love her, and I know her. I know what’s best for her.”
“And she’s in love with you too, Clarisse.”
She laughs. “I would hope so.”
“It’s different, Clarisse. It’s been different for a while, and I didn’t say anything because I thought you would notice. But you haven’t.”
“Fuck, Silena, please. Please, just stop. I’m not puttin’ her through that. I’m not putting myself through that again. I’m not that girl anymore. I am not my father’s daughter.”
“It never goes away, Clar.”
Silena’s voice is quiet, hesitant. Clarisse has confessed to you her struggles with her emotions all her life, particularly anger. Half the reason her mother sent her to that camp she always talks about was because she had such bad anger issues. But she worked through them, and you know she’s different now, she has healthy outlets and ways to cope.
But still, Silena seems scared.
“Shut the fuck up.”
You hear her walking towards you and quickly step back, smoothing your face out into a blank slate, tempted to hit yourself in the head to forget what you just heard.
The door swings open, and she smiles immediately when she sees you.
“Y/N,” she says, sticking her keys into her pocket. You force yourself to do your best smile. “Oh, baby, you look so pretty.”
“Thank you,” you smile, letting her wrap her arms around you, letting her press a soft kiss against your lips.
—-
Clarisse made you laugh all night, made you smile, made you wonder how you ever got this far in life without her. She paid for your dinner and ushered you out of the restaurant, chuckling about how you drove her crazy and she just wanted you now-
Until she walked you to your car, opened the passenger door for you- suddenly shoving you inside and pushing the door softly closed, as much as she could get it with your foot still hanging out.
“Clarisse!” you shout, but she’s already appeared in the driver’s seat next to you, ushering you inside, reaching over and shutting the car door. She locks them with a satisfying click, finally letting her shoulder’s sink down. “What the fuck?” you huff.
“Sorry,” she smiles, hands squeezing the steering wheel. “It was the weirdest thing, a squirrel ran right over my foot, I got so freaked out…” she smiles, forces a laugh, but you only look at her unimpressed.
“Clarisse,” you sigh, letting your hands fall to your sides in defeat. “What’s going on? Please?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it.
“Just let me drive home,” she had said, and now you’re home, leading her into your dorm and she presses her back against the door.
You put your hands on her shoulders and she puts hers on your hips, she can’t look at you and you do your best to meet her eyes.
“Clarisse,” you say, a silent beg that all your suspicions are wrong, and everything and fine and she still loves you, she’s still your girlfriend.
“I’m not ready to tell you,” she rushes out. Her fingertips dig into your skin. “I’m not ready, okay? I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
“T-that’s okay,” you say after a moment. “It’s okay. I just… you can tell me, when you’re ready. I’m just scared, I don’t know why this is happening, you’re being so different-”
She hugs you and puts her face into your neck.
“Please, Y/N,” she breathes, shaky breath tickling your neck. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything, just let that be enough, please.”
You hugs you quick and hard, and you’re so shocked by it that you almost take a step back. But you can’t, really, not with her arms so tight, so right around you. And once you realize it’s just your Clarisse, you coo softly and put your hand in her hair, the other around her shoulders.
“Of course it’s enough, baby. Of course, I just want you to know that I’m here… I’m here…”
You run your hand through her hair and she exhales.
“I know, I know it’s not perfect, but you’re all I have. You’re all I have, Y/N, just be here with me, please.”
“I will,” you breathe. “I will.”
Your mind is swirling with more questions than answers, but Clarisse asks you to call her baby again and leads you to your bed. And you do, you call her baby and tell her you love her.
And the realization comes slowly, but once it comes it feels so right.
You don’t know what’s going on with Clarisse. All you have are incoherent clues strung together, but you realize you don’t care. You love Clarisse more than you’re scared of a little crazy.
And you tell her that as she lays on top of you, and she simply takes her face out of your neck, the faintest hint of tears welling in her eyes.
“I love you crazy, baby,” you murmur.
She smiles, and you feel like you’re being sucked into the eye of a hurricane.
She lets out a soft breath, like she was scared, so scared- and you’re not sure she’s ever been scared before. But she’s scared of losing you. She’s scared of losing you, and that makes you giddy like a schoolgirl. That makes you love her even more.
“I’m a lot of crazy,” she says, and you can’t tell if she’s joking, but you laugh. You laugh like a hyena, because you love her more than you love yourself.
You want to be the harbor she comes back to each night, you want to be the pillow where she rests her head. You want to be a vault for her secrets and her love. You want to be everything for her and you want to be everything to her.
You don’t believe in Greek myths, but maybe that one about soulmates was right.
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
Note
imagining a scenario where Mrs. König packs her husband’s lunch so he can take it to work (or like, he can take it with him on the day he’s deployed, if that makes sense)
and like, she spoils him for lunch. literally
cuts the crusts off his sandwiches
peels his orange
little fancy shapes for his fruit??? you bet
those gummy snacks and cookies??? absolutely
and can’t forget, a lovely note (maybe even a very explicit photo >wink wink<)
and keep it up, now König expects his lunch made by Mrs. König!!!!
which is her evil plan all along because i bet one day when she’s incredibly angry when she makes his lunch…
and he opens to find:
sandwich crusts ON.
n o c o o k i e
orange is orange. unpeeled
no notes of love
fruit is fruit shaped. not dino shaped :(
now König can spend three months of deployment thinking about his actions.
I recently got addicted to those lunch box videos on TikTok, anon, I AM INVESTED!! Just being Konig's housewife, having the prettiest apron with some cute frills all around, with laces and little ribbons everywhere - it's not really practical, but you have a huge collection of those and you can afford to make them a bit messy, and dirty. You don't have a lot of things to do at home, watching TV and sitting on your laptop gets boring after the first few weeks, especially when Konig has desk duty and leaves the house for the whole day instead of spending time with you or getting on facetime while on his mission. You're cooking for him, take out so so many lunchbox ideas!! Spend too much money on various lunchboxes, on different designs, and all of those cute things you can use to cut bread and fruits, to make some elaborate shapes and slowly engage your husband to eat cute stuff instead of just sliding his card to get some slop on the base( Everyone is so so so jealous of him, he is getting rice balls with nice seasonings and little seaweed cutouts that make it look like pandas, he is having all of those cute shapes for his apples and carrots!! That giant three-story boxed with ice and metal sections...and then it all suddenly stops.
He is not just getting a dry and cold sandwich - they are literally just covered in their shop packaging, you don't even bother to cook for him anymore. sometimes you miss the days entirely, leaving him to return to the base kitchen and find out that he is unable to eat here anymore because he just knows he messed up and you're mad at him( this is the only way you can get to him - Konig isn't a cruel husband, even though he keeps you locked in the house, but he is a pretty dense one, ignoring your wishes and often making you beg for even the slightest of privileges, like getting out of the house to do your garden, or go to some nice cafes and actually see people. He will apologize profusely, knowing how much he hurt you( his heart still in the wrong place, he don't understand why would you want to join some dumb book club when you can spend time at home, but he is forced to allow you to go out, just so he could see his pretty housewife smiling again, caring for him like a proper girl should
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oneforthemunny · 1 year
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treat me rough |rockstar!eddie munson x pregnant!nepo baby!reader|
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompt: you're pregnant. you're horny. you're fed up with eddie treating you like you're made of glass.
loosely based off the song 'treat me rough' by debbie gravitte. give it a listen to get in the mood ;)
edit by the amazing, talented, show stopping @eddiemunsons-missingnipple say thank you rn
contains: MINORS DNI 18+. pregnant!reader, degrading (light), spanking, language, p in v sex, aftercare.
"Is this how it's going to be for the rest of our lives?"
Your tone was biting, unforgiving and jarring; not at all what Eddie expected to walk in to. Your arms folded over your chest, resting just barely over the swell of your abdomen that was rounding more and more with each passing day, a reminder that your baby girl was on the way.
"What?" Eddie's shoulders deflated, tone dropping and falling at your feet. Long gone was the anger in his tone, the usual biting or demanding snap of voice that would've sent you shivering, shaping up at his first warning glare. He sounded tired, worn out, or maybe worn down.
It made you furious.
You growled at him, little bare feet padding as hard as you could over to him, trying to sound threatening. "Is this it?" You snapped, throwing your hands out at him. "Is this how it's going to be forever, Ed, because I-I can't fucking do this." Your voice wobbled, throat constricting. You were angry at him, at yourself for crying, just overwhelmed entirely.
"Baby, what are you talking about?" Eddie cooed gently, taking a step towards you. Inked hands cradling your face, Eddie tilted your chin up towards him. "What's goin' on? What's got you upset now?"
"You!" Angry, you pulled your face out of his hands. His sweet voice was making your nerves grate even more. "Holy fuck, Eddie, you are my issue right now-"
"-Hey." Eddie snapped, eyes narrowing down at you. You stopped, eyes lifting up to him hopefully. A tingle spread between your legs, a glimmer of hope that he might be close to giving in to you, to putting you in your place. You'd been trying for weeks to pull out that angry, domineering man you fell in love with, the one he'd repressed inside himself for the baby. 
"Take it easy, alright? Your doctor told you not to be getting worked up like this. Your blood pressure can not rise, or it can be-"
You slammed your hand down on the table, glaring up at Eddie. "Eddie, I am fine." You hissed. "Actually, I'm not fine. And it's your fault."
"My fault?" Eddie scoffed, eyes bulging at your accusations. "What the fuck did I do?" Eddie held his hands up, pausing, before taking a regulating breath to calm himself. Goddam those parenting books he'd been reading, they'd actually put some useful stuff in there.
"What has you upset, honey?" Eddie asked calmly this time, looking at you carefully. "What can I do to help you?"
Your nose twisted, bristling with rage. You spun around, picking up the throw pillow off the couch, launching it at Eddie's head. Eddie dodged it easily, brown eyes wide with shock. He looked from you, back to the pillow, then back at you.
"What is wrong with you-"
"-You!" You screamed, turning on your heel and stomping up the grand staircase of the Malibu home.
"Hey, hold on a second," Eddie was hot on your trails, heavy boots stomping against the marble. "You have to talk to me, alright? What is the fuckin' deal?"
"You think I'm disgusting." You sniffled, wiping your tears with the heels of your hand. "We haven't had sex in forever, and-and you won't touch me or-or act like you love me anymore. I get pregnant, and all of a sudden you're-you're just a different fucking person, and I don't like it!" Your chest heaved at the admission, blubbering cries that shook your whole body. You knew you sounded petulant and whiny, and not on purpose. You sounded like the spoiled brat Eddie used to mock you for being.
Eddie fought every urge in his body to not roll his eyes at you, opting to hug you close to his chest instead. He could feel your running nose, rubbing your face into his shirt, soothing the burn of your cry while his hands rubbed circles down your spine. He didn't want you to stress yourself like this, put yourself and the baby at risk.
"Princess," Eddie cooed down at you. You sobbed at the nickname. "I don't understand. We had sex this morning, baby."
"T-That wasn't real sex." You sobbed, breathy and broken cries back into the cotton of his t-shirt.
Eddie furrowed his brow deep. "Pretty sure it was real sex." He said sarcastically, flinching when you let out a high pitched cry that had his hands moving to your hair, rubbing it softly. That always calmed you down. "What do you mean it wasn't real sex, baby? Did you not finish?"
"Well, yeah, I finished." You snapped, rolling your eyes like it was obvious.
Eddie's shoulders tensed, fighting the surge of irritation he felt in his veins. He longed for his cigarettes, hoping maybe he could get you calmed down and could go have a smoke.
"B-But it's not..." You huffed, frustrated at the struggle to find the words, they were jumbled and caught in your mouth. "It's not how we have sex." You blinked up at him, lip jutting out in a pout that had his heart fluttering. "You're not mean anymore."
Eddie smirked, a small snort of a laugh that had you frowning. "Not mean? Wow, never thought I'd hear that complaint from you." Eddie hummed.
You huffed, glaring at him. "Eddie, I'm being serious." You said, rolling your eyes hard. "Do you not... Do you not think I'm attractive anymore?" You muttered. You couldn't watch his reaction, knowing even the slightest off-putting look would leave you spiraling, inconsolable with hurt.
"Are you insane?" Eddie snapped, huffing in irritation. "Hey, look at me." His voice was firm, sending an icy chill up your spine, eyes lifting to his when his hand cradled your jaw.
Your vision was blurry, sniffling back the snot that ran down your throat when you met Eddie's eyes, warm and brown and familiar. It always left your chest light and airy, comforting and content.
"Why would you ever think I didn't think you were hot? Have you seen yourself, baby?" Eddie grinned, eyes traveling down your frame, tongue swiping his lower lip. His eyes trained on the swell of your tummy, small but present. You could still hide the bump with a sweatshirt of a dress, but it was getting harder with every passing day.
You wiped your eyes with the back of your hands. "You don't act the same. I just- I don't want you to get bored, and leave me..." You admitted, cheeks flushing at the vulnerability. Your heart hammered at the admission, a quiet fear you'd swallowed down since you first found you were expecting.
It wasn't irrational, at least not to you. Eddie was wild, he'd always been a little deranged and electric, and his sex life was no exception. It's what drew you to him first, what brought the two of you together. Now, with the baby on the way, you worried your marriage would become another statistic- failed and leaving your baby with a broken home or with two loveless parents. The thought made you sick, you couldn't do that to her. Or yourself. You weren't sure you could live without Eddie. For all your independence, he was your world; you couldn't lose him.
"Leave you?" Eddie scoffed, eyes bulging. He sounded offended, angry, your full name rolling sternly off his tongue, making your cheeks burn. He was scolding you like a school girl, eyes hard and challenging on you. Your pussy throbbed, legs crossing to soothe the ache. It had been a while since you'd played like this- months.
"I don't ever want to hear that shit again, do you hear me?" Eddie snapped. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, you know better." His inked hand grabbed your jaw, squeezing your cheeks lightly when he pulled your gaze back up to him.
Your tummy fluttered with arousal, heart skipping at the familiar thrill. Eddie's face was hard, eyes narrowed down at you. "I don't know if you're just trying to get me pissed off, or what's going on, but let me make myself clear. I'm not going anywhere." Eddie's jaw flexed, sincere and stern. Your heart swelled. "The only way I'm leaving you or baby girl, is if the coroner is taking me away. Understand?"
You nodded, restricted by his firm grip. "You're mine, you little brat." Eddie sneered mean, but his eyes were filled with love, the same adoration those mocha irises held on your wedding day- all three of them, actually. "Think I'd want someone else? No fuckin' way, baby, you're it for me. I can't wait to have a million babies with you. Love you and fuck you for the rest of my life."
Your lip wobbled, swallowing the burn of tears that threatened to spill again. Eddie's face softened, grip loosening on your jaw. "You've just been pent up haven't you?" Eddie cooed, his hand snaking from your jaw, gliding over your soft skin and to your cheek, thumb swiping over the cheek bone.
You nodded pitifully, legs crossing and squirming. "I haven't been doing a good job with you, have I? Haven't been keeping you in your place, huh?" Eddie mocked lightly. "Been letting you be so mean for too long."
"You have." You whined pitifully, placing your hand on top of Eddie's, eyes rounding to look up at him. "I've been so mean because you won't pay attention to me."
"Oh?" Eddie's brow raised, tilting his head to the side at your omission. "So this is my fault? My fault you've been such a little brat lately?"
"Yeah." You pouted, nose crinkling with the hint of a snarl. His eyes narrowed at you. "It is, Ed, you wouldn't fuck me right." You huffed.
There she is. Eddie snorted, tongue rolling over the front of his teeth. "Is that right?" He challenged. He pulled you close by your waist, so you were flush against him. Your bump resting against his own tummy, the feeling of that stretched skin against his had his cock stirring in his jeans.
"I think you need to be reminded of your place, don't you?" Eddie challenged. "Reminded who you belong to, and that bratty girls don't get to do whatever they want."
You whimpered at his tone, heart rate picking up slightly with excitement and anticipation. Finally, he was going to give you what you want. Treat you a little rough and fuck you until you were screaming.
Eddie held your wrist in his hands, a tight grip when he pulled you towards the bedroom. You pouted slightly, but didn't complain. You'd hoped he would take you into the newly finished 'sex dungeon' hidden behind a moveable shelf in his 'office', but decided not to complain. Next time, you'd get him in there.
"You've been so mean. Saying all that mean shit to me. Who do you think you are talking to your master like that?" Eddie scolded you, lightly and enough to leave your cheeks flaming. He pulled at your longe set, loose and flowy, comfortable and all that fit with the ever growing swell of your belly.
Eddie smirked when he pushed your pants down, little lace panties that held a damp spot on the front. "I've been too easy on you." Eddie frowned down at you. "You've been a bad girl. Very bad."
You couldn't help but grin. Even while Eddie was chastising you, stern and mean, his hands rubbed the swell of your belly lightly, cupping the rounded skin protectively. Your heart fluttered, blushing and placing your hands on top of his over your belly.
"I have been." You bit your lip, lashes batting up at him. "I've been so bad, master."
"Hold on a sec before we start," Eddie paused, dominant demeanor falling for a second. "You have to stop me if it gets too much, alright? Just stop if you feel like somethings wrong the second something feels off."
You nodded. "I will, Ed."
"Safeword?" Eddie asked, like the two of you hadn't played a million times before.
"Bats." You replied with a light eye roll.
Eddie caught your chin in his hands, eyes dark. "Did you really just roll your eyes at me?" He challenged. The switch was flicked with him. Gone was the doting, sweet, lover you'd had for weeks, and back was your mean man here to put you back in your place.
You pressed your lips together, squirming under his intense gaze. "I-I didn't mean to. I'm sorry-"
"-No, you're not." Eddie sneered. "But you will be, baby, don't you worry. I'll make sure of that."
Eddie's hand went to your hair, tugging you by the root towards the bed. You whimpered, scampering with every tug. Eddie plopped down on the bed, legs spread wide on the edge. "I should get the cane." Eddie threatened, eyes dark when they looked up at you. "Should get the clamps, too. Fig your ass and give you the cane for how mean you've been. Especially when I've been so nice to you."
You whimpered at the threat. All the things you loathed; figging, the cane, the nipple clamps. You'd nearly safe worded on all of them separately, so together, you couldn't imagine. You hated the way you throbbed at the idea.
"I didn't-"
"No." Eddie snapped, jaw flexing up at you. "You've said enough. I'm sick of your mouth. Keep it shut, or I'm gonna gag you."
Your lips pressed together, postured straightening, an instant reaction to please him. "You know what I think? I think you just want attention." Eddie hummed at you. "I think you want attention, and that's why you've been so mean. Is that right?"
You stayed still. Eddie's hand cracked down on your tit, lighter than usual, but enough to make you yelp. "That was a yes or no question, so answer me." Eddie held his hand up when you opened your mouth. "I don't need to hear your voice. Shake your head yes or no."
You pouted, a shiver passing down your spine, your head bobbing gently. Eddie frowned. "That's what I thought." He sneered. "Knew there was a good girl in there somewhere. She just needs some help coming out, doesn't she? Need a little coaxing."
Eddie's hand was on your wrist, tugging you closer to his spread legs. "Don't you worry, angel, I'll get you back to being a good girl."
Eddie pulled you closer, guiding you gently over his lap. Normally, he would've yanked you over, had his hand wailing on your ass unforgivingly before you were ever settled, but he needed to be mindful of your bump. "That comfortable? Feel ok?" Eddie asked gently, rubbing a soothing hand down your spine.
Your chest filled with heat, cheeks flushing. Your bump rested between his knees, ass perched over his right leg, upturned and presented for him while your upper half laid on the bed. "'M alright, baby." You replied sweetly, a small hum of content, crossing your arms in front of you to rest your head on.
Eddie looked at you carefully. "You sure? Need a pillow or anything?"
"No, baby, I promise I'll tell you if it starts to hurt." You replied, wiggling your hips on his thigh.
Eddie leaned down, hand cradling you hip, lips brushing your cheek gently in a sweet kiss that left you blushing. His hand rubbed over the swell of your ass, mouth filling with spit. God, your ass had gotten fatter with the pregnancy. His hands kneaded, squeezing the fatty flesh. "Fuckin' delicious, baby, look at you." He rasped, a low gravely tone that made your thighs clench.
You whined lightly, every squeeze and grasp of his hands on your skin making your tummy flutter with heat. "Think I might keep you like this forever." Eddie hummed, spreading your cheeks apart, peeking at your puffy, slick lips. His fingers slipped between your legs, swiping through your drenched folds.
You mewled, back arching further at his touch. Eddie moaned loudly, swirling the fingers with your release around his tongue, eyes fluttering shut. "Christ, baby, you've never tasted better." Eddie groaned.
"Stop teasing, Ed, please." You whined, loud and nasally, lip jutting out in a pout.
Eddie's eyes flashed down at you. "Who?" He challenged, head tilting to the side menacingly at you.
"Master." You squeaked, shrinking back down into yourself in submission.
Eddie shook his head, letting out an airy, mocking scoff. "Oh yeah, you've gotten way outta line." Eddie snarled. "Went too easy on ya and now look," Eddie lifted his hand, palm cracking down on the center of your cheeks in a sharp, stinging smack. "You're just all sorts of bratty."
You gasped, had lifting and tilting back. You closed your eyes, relishing in that familiar sting that faded into a low burn, hips grinding subconsciously onto his thigh for friction.
Eddie's hand came down twice, one to each cheek, hard and loud. You squeaked, fisting the sheets. "I thought you'd be better. Thought I'd trained you better." Eddie huffed, feigning a sigh of disappointment. "But look at you. Still such a bratty little bitch, aren't you?" Eddie's hand fell heavy, four spanks on the globes of your ass.
You weren't sure if it was the pregnancy or the fact that it had been so long since he'd spanked you, but you were throbbing, that tight, burin gin coil urgently pulling tighter and tighter in the pit of your tummy. Every spank was heightened on stinging flesh, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your aching core with every sharp smack of Eddie's hand on your ass.
Eddie's hand found your hair, fisting it and holding it into a makeshift ponytail, lifting you up. Your belly dipped deeper between his legs, back arching. Eddie brought his hand down again. "You gonna finally be a good girl for me?" He hissed in your ear. "Finally behave?"
You whimpered in response, eyes pinching in pleasure. Your hips rocked against the fabric of his jeans, lip biting. Eddie's hand crack down hard, right where the meat of your ass met the top of your thighs, one hit for each.
"You fuckin' forget how to talk, huh? All you've done for weeks is ran that bitchy little mouth at me, and now you have nothin' to say? Answer me." Eddie sneered.
"I-oh!- I'll be good, master, please." You felt close already, and Eddie wished he could say he was shocked. You'd been so sensitive, everything heightened and electrified the further you were along.
"I don't believe you." Eddie scoffed, his hand fell on your ass again, leaving you gasping, lips biting to hold back your pleasure filled moans.
Eddie guided you down gently, hand pressing to your back. He was worried about straining your spine, knowing your lower back already hurt enough. Eddie's hand fell back onto your ass, mouth watering with ever jump and ripple of your fatty skin. His cock lurched at the jiggle of your pinked flesh, splotchy with his hand marks that painted your skin.
You squirmed, gasping at the assault. "I think," Eddie started, his hand falling rhythmically from one cheek to the next, over and over again. "That you haven't learned your lesson." You whined, arching into his hand.
Eddie knew what you wanted, he knew you better than anybody. Knew what your body needed before you did. He aimed his smacks a little lower, every hit a target to the center of your cheeks, hard and sharp, hitting the same spot every time. The spot that sent vibrations to your clit, shockwaves of pleasure building. He didn't deviate from rhythm, urged on with every gasp and whine of pleasure that came from your lips, hand tightening on your hip to keep you in place while you squirmed.
"You gonna be a good girl for me?" Eddie asked, taunting and mean.
"Yes, fuck, yes I will!" You moaned, voice cracking with the small shake of a cry. Emotional release you'd held in for too long mixing with the overwhelming need to cum.
"I'll be so good, Eddie! Soo good, please, just-ugh!- Please right there! 'M so close, so close...." You panted, toes curling, hips rolling, and face crumpling from the building pleasure.
Eddie didn't let up from the same spot he'd been spanking, the red glow coming from his relenting hits. "Don't lie to me, baby." Eddie teased. "You know I don't. like. liars." Every gritted word was annunciated with a hard smack, palm flat and cracking down over the center of your ass, his heavy hand covering a good area of your ass.
"Oh!" You cried out, the last spank to your burning cheeks making your legs starts to tremble. "I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good..." You chanted, breathlessly, eyes rolling back.
Eddie flexed his leg so your hips were raised, giving you a final hard crack of his palm, the one that had that tight coil snapping, ecstasy washing over your, leaving you gushing and sobbing from the sensation. The bubble of emotion popped in your chest, leaving your wracked in sobs, writhing over his lap. Eddie continued spanking you all over, alternating from light, playful smacks covering each cheek and the top of your thighs while you came down, shaking lightly from the intensity of the orgasm.
"You gonna be my good girl?" Eddie asked. He was more so lightly patting your reddened ass now, just hard enough to sting for a second over the already irritated skin.
Your eye were glassy, wet with tears, chest heaving and shuddering. "Yeah..." You whined, nasally and breathy.
Eddie grinned, pushing your hair out of your face, smirking down at you. You looked so fucked out already, eyes shining and glossy, lips swollen and pouty from your tears and bitten lips. Eddie's hand rubbed down your abused ass, the hot flesh skating over his calloused fingers.
"Yeah, I think so too." Eddie cooed sweetly. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Just need to be reminded sometimes, don't ya?"
"Yeah..." You sighed, just as breathy and dreamily as before.
"C'mere, lil mama." Eddie smirked, shaking his head. He helped you up slowly, pulling you onto his lap gently, cradling you against him. You could feel his erection on your hip, prodding into your skin from beneath his zipper.
Eddie's hands stroked over your cheeks, wiping your stray tears away, pillowy lips kissing at the salty, wet skin, nose nuzzling into the flesh. "My sweet girl, aren't you?" He cooed. "Feel better?"
You nodded, nosing towards his cradling palm. "Much better." You muttered, eyes lifting to him. "Thank you, baby."
Eddie smirked. "You don't ever have to thank me, baby. I'm happy to help, anytime." He winked at you. "That was ok? You feel ok?"
You nodded, brows furrowing lightly before looking up at him. "Are you not going to fuck me?" You asked bluntly.
Eddie laughed loudly, shaking his head at you. Still so bratty. He couldn't blame you. You were a woman who knew what she wanted.  "I was getting to that." He pressed his nose to yours, rubbing it back and forth against yours. "Have a little patience, hm?"
You gave a light giggle. "Not my strong suit, baby, you know that." You batted your eyes cheekily up at him.
Eddie scoffed loudly, nose pushing the air out harshly. "Yeah, no shit. Been with you a while, honey, I picked up on that." He chided sarcastically.
"Yeah? Must like it then if you stick around." You challenged, the hazy fog from your orgasm clearing lightly.
"Fuckin' love it." Eddie breathed sincerely, hand cradling your cheek, tilting your head back, lips hovering over yours. "Wouldn't have you any other way. My perfect girl."
His kiss was sweet, passionate- not the usual kiss you got after such a rough scene. Normally it was teeth clashing, lips gnashing and biting, angry and fighting for dominance. No, this one was tender, full of so much love, mimicking the night Eddie proposed to you in Malibu.
Eddie fucked you slow and deep, hips rolling into yours, body pressed over yours mindful of your bump. His fingers intertwined with yours, face in your neck, your legs around his hips while he rocked into you, deep brushes of his cock inside you that had you you coming undone easily over and over again.
You knew Eddie would be a great dad. You had no doubt about it. You only wondered how he'd handle two girls he could never say no to.
this one is for @lilpotatobean2 bc I know these two are your faves haha :)
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captainmera · 4 months
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My God I love your depiction of the Wittebane brother ❤️
Do you think there might have been a chance that your Pip wouldn't kill his brother when Calec goes to Demon Realm? He seems way more tolerable of weirdness and is actually curious about the taboo things. That it makes me wonder if other steps were taken by people around him, maybe he would make different choices and not turned into a brother-killing genocide goop man. Obviously, the blame is still his for what he did, but I can't stop wondering what if.
And him getting along with Evelyn instead of hating her right of the bat is really cute.
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Thank you! :D <333
He grew up with this theatrical bisexual of a brother. Pretty sure the reason Belos didn't give a hoot on the Boiling Isles about queer stuff is because he kinda knew, and accepted, that Caleb was kinda queer. In some cases, people can ignore or bend certain rules for people they love. Even disregard them or pretend they don't apply or exist.
(long rant about writing and narrative foils and blah blah under the cut)
Unlike Caleb, I think Philip is the sort that only picks-and-chooses whatever rules he feels will supports his personal wants/thoughts and tosses the rest.
Caleb was not hiding it as well as he thought he did. lol.
I think that, sure, there was probably a turning point for Philip.
And absolutely, people around him influenced him. He's just a kid, a vulnerable one at that, in a protestant Christian cult.
I kinda like to think of it as a corruption arc. Mostly because it seems (to me) that the whole reason Luz was meant to have a depression-arc and Philip getting all "YoUrE JuSt LiKe Me!" thing was because.. There was supposed, I think, to be similar beginnings for them.
But Luz, in season 3, got depressed and felt a lot of guilt, so her arc is going from this happy-go-lucky kid interested in different things, to a depression arc where she questions herself. While Philip has a corruption arc, where he gradually goes from a well-meaning kid interested in different things, to evil and delusional.
I am also combining Luz, King, and the Collector into Kid-Philip's themes.
King is fascinating as a pre-narrative foil for kid-Philip. I think. As King was very clingy to Luz and didn't want her to leave, he too had a delusion about his own importance (disregard that it was kinda true in the end there). King tried to dictate (in that book episode) about what his and Luz' book should be about, how it should go, and it really hurt Luz' feelings. In the end, they solved it. But as a narrative foil, I think for the Wittebanes, they probably had a similar struggle on a larger scale, and it didn't get resolved.
The Collector, too! They're desperate to be close with someone, anyone, who gets them and wants to play on their terms. Kinda like Belos wanting him and Caleb to be witch hunters. Not accounting that Caleb is his own person outside of him-- Which, if you think about it, Caleb made his whole life (in my version anyway) about taking care of Philip. So I'm sure Philip felt like he really was Caleb's entire world. And then suddenly he wasn't. Because of a witch. The Collector, despite having this incredible power (just like Pip having his brilliant brain) is still a child and using their power in selfish ways. Not intentionally, I think, just out of a fear of abandonment or isolation.
I personally am in favour of nobody-is-born-evil-but-anyone-can-become-evil kinda thing.
I would like to explore how Philip gets corrupted.
I am slowly influencing Philip in my fanfic with little things that will, eventually, boil down to not so great moments.
The thing about delusions is that the person truly believes in it. Philip believing he's a hero has to make sense and feel believable.
Belos is a jerk. Philip isn't, yet. He becomes that jerk. But I don't want to write a sociopath. I also don't like using less-favourable mental illnesses as an "easy way out" to write why Philip became Belos and a genocidal maniac.
I have strong feelings about de-stigmatizing mental illnesses in writing, without romanticizing them or leaving out the really awful and less discussed sides of it. This includes diagnoses within all the clusters of the DSM5. I will not sit here and say I only support a diagnosis like Autism or GAD, and not things like Histrionic or Borderline.
And including people with MH issues and personality disorders is important, too, as well as not trying to downplay them.
People throw around Belos with things like Narcissism and Psychopath, without actually understanding what those means or what the different types there are. For example, is he a grandiose, oblivious or a fragile narcissist?
Yes, these disorders are looked down upon. A lot of people who have them aren't very nice people. But that doesn't mean they're evil or have no heart.
Lots of children can display early signs of these, and in a rough time like the colonial 1630s of America, it is not unthinkable that those rough times bred some dysfunctional people. I'm sure Philip has his own slices of pie as far as mental health goes, just like Caleb and many other struggling people.
But, I will not write from an angle that implies Philip just has darkness from the start in him.
There's a reason why I had Caleb go on a rant about being born evil in chapter 5. Because puritans, and Christians alike, at the time - truly did believe bastards were just... Half people. Did you know that if an orphanage found out a baby was a bastard, they wouldn't let it suckle the nursery goat's udders. Because they were afraid it would soil the milk and, in turn, might give the non-bastard babies bad influence. Somehow.
With that kind of logic in your culture, it's no rocket science that people would put nonsense together and think it made sense.
I'm much more interested in how puritanism and witch hunting culture influenced and corrupted Philip into becoming who he became, and why he refuses to budge on his beliefs to the point of murder.
As the owl house, the show, has commentary on systems influencing cultures in a bad and positive way. But in particular, the one Belos tries to influence the Demon Realm with; being a not-so-great way. So! With that as a clue: what made Philip turn bad, most likely, was partially the puritanism and its extremist ways. I think TOH is also a bit of a nudge at the HAYS-code of Hollywood and how it has trickled into most all the American culture-core. As it's both trickled into schools, morality, politics and other things outside cinema.
Just pointing at him and going "He's a sociopath because he became a genocidal tyrant" is, to me, cheap. Not only does it further stigmatising mental illnesses by implying only a disorder can make someone do such evil things. But it also disregards the most horrific truth of all; that the true monsters are people not at all unlike yourself. And that they, too, were children once.
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bug-bites · 13 days
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batfam beach episode?? real not clickbait no glue no borax??
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cw: nothing! pure vacation beach fluff (p≧w≦q) also barely proofread,,,
pairing: gn!reader x batfam (NOT ALL AT ONCE.)
characters: dick grayson, jason babygirl todd, cassandra cain, tim drake, damian wayne (all intended to be interpreted as either romantic or platonic unless its damian. ik in some comic runs he's like an adult but hes like permanently 12 in my head and i dont fw that :/)
a/n: im back with a new dc obsession tee hee (soz to everyone who wanted more abt the cod guys or spiderverse im comicsmaxxing and redhoodpilled) will probably make a part 2 w/ bruce, babs, steph, and duke eventually :3c
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Dick Grayson haha dick
oh he loves the beach so much
the sand beneath his feet make him feel nostalgic from when he would practice tumbling with his parents in the circus ring i think there's sand in circus rings right? I dunno someone fact check me on that one
the victim of being buried in the sand, always asks for a mermaid tail but ends up with something like massive sand tits (courtesy of either tim or jason), he laughs it off anyways
somehow gets the worst tan lines. He wore a swim shirt one time and never again because the tan lines looked SO BAD which is a total shame because he tans gorgeously
will beg to do play shoulder wars i have no clue if this is the right name, again fact check me for this thing where you get a piggyback ride from someone and you try to knock someone whos also getting a piggyback ride over in the water
you’re on his shoulders since bro is strong asf and you square up against tim and damian
obviously you lose because hello that's damian wayne we are talking about but at least its fun!!
cass and jason are forever the undefeated champions of shoulder wars though, that goes without saying
Cassandra Cain
shes always seen beach episodes in animes that damian practically dragged her into watching so when she gets to actually go to a beach she is so excited peak sibling bonding is dragging your siblings into your interests
loves building sandcastles and writing things in the sand, watching it get washed away, and then do it all over again
hold her hand and jump over waves together on the shore and she will be the giggliest and happiest human being alive on planet earth
but out of all the beach activities she loves beach volleyball
shes actually scarily good at beach volleyball for someone who has never played volleyball before
dick thought it would be fun to teach her and have a friendly match between him and bruce vs you and cass
yeah bruce and dick were COOKED. huffing and puffing like they have a vendetta against the three little pigs at the end of it while cass is like “this is so fun, lets go again!”
ends the day with a little sunset stroll along the shore i need her so bad you do not understand please bbyg ill treat u soooo well
Jason Todd
beaches are fun on paper for him, in person not so much
PERSONAL HC INCOMING! He gets migraines after the lazarus pit so he can only have so much fun before needing to lie face down with his head covered with a beach towel to make everything less overwhelming or he wears sunglasses the entire time
he brings a book to read at the beach and stays in the shade the entire time yes he is that bitch
usually at home in the comfort of his little library he likes to read things that have an impact on him or just stuff that makes him want to analyze deeper. think books like frankenstein, lord of the flies, all quiet on the western front, just generally heavier stuff
but his vacation books? totally different. usually something super light, maybe a shitty romance book that you find in walmart which are clearly just results of book packaging, or a some booktok recommendation he got for shits and giggles because it just was so laughably bad, maybe even a childhood feel-good book like percy jackson or the little prince (mostly just books he would not grieve over if sand permanently got in between the pages)
he tried reading a colleen hoover book once and honest to God wanted to toss it into the ocean HE WOULD HATE HER BOOKS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL
but out of everything he likes watching you enjoy yourself, his book wasnt that important anyways. show him that funky sand dollar you found or that really cool piece of seaglass, he’s probably gonna bring it home with him. a little keepsake along with the millions of grains of sand that never seem to go away
Tim Drake
Burns so easily
At first its kinda cute, like hes asking you to help him get that spot on his back he just cant seem to reach and its just a little sweet moment between you two as you rub the sunscreen into his sore muscles
But then it happens again. And again. And again to the point when he goes up to you, you automatically reach for the tube of SPF 100+ 
I just know his vitamin d deficiency goes crazy
Leaves the beach looking like a lobster, sunburnt, a crazy bump on his head from getting hit with a volleyball, and some god awful sunglasses tan lines
Overall, beach activities are not really his thing bros job is NAWT beach
Enjoys the boardwalk a lot more than the beach itself, likes the touristy stuff but still goes to the beach because dick loves it and he loves his older brother :(
Damian Wayne
i feel like he wouldn’t care too much for typical beach stuff. like at every beach that has sand and decently clean water you can do most beach activities
one thing that is never 100% consistent at all beaches is what lives on the beaches. this boy will spend hours staring into tidepools 
bruce was lowk concerned because his son did not gaf about normal beach activities that kids do but eventually he reached a point where he was like "i mean at least hes having fun and being safe"
i feel like talia would always show him books of sea creatures when he was little but he never ended up being able to see them in their natural habitat someone take this boy to an aquarium now
tells you fun facts about each creature you come across
will scold you if you take a shell from the beach, definitely says some shit like “how would you feel if someone ran into your house and just took your bed?”  based though, leave shells at the beach yall! taking them is like bad for the ecosystem
brings his notebook around and has little sketches of the sea creatures
even though typical beach activities arent his favourite, he doesnt hate it. he likes that he can catch a break from all the vigilante stuff and spend time with his family as a family and not just as a team
loves scuba diving. idk it just somehow makes sense and i think he would look really stupid in a wet suit
also i feel like he would never mention it but in his mind hes fully thinking "this is just like a beach episode" but he would rather die than say it out loud FUCKING NERDDD
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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months
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D&D Vampire Lore Dump #2
"Biology" Their "metabolism" and their physical body, their senses, why they're not aging and "vampires actually make fantastic torture victims, if you're a monster: vampire healing and how to inflict scars on them."
OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER FOR FIRST TIME READERS: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.
The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest. Larian themselves have not written BG3 totally compliant with some established D&D lore or the original games.
Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.
Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology
The transformation into a vampire causes little physical change, except for the fangs, and the fact that their facial features seem take on a permanent hardened expression, appearing more "feral" in a way that is likened to a starving wolf. Spawn moreso than freed vampires, and in 5e they have claws despite the fact that freed vampires don't. Sometimes a vampire's eyes turn red upon changing, but this doesn't always happen.
Most of the vampire's five senses are sharpened by undeath. They can see perfectly in the dark, for example, and are very hard to catch off guard. The only one that gets duller than it was when they were alive is the sense of touch - "a blunt, phantom sense of touch, more mechanical than biological. It is a pale, crude approximation of a real tactile sense." They don't feel the effects of physical exertion and their ability to feel pain is dulled (but not nonexistent). They're not particularly bothered by high or cold temperatures unless they're at extremes (like frostbite levels, or "standing by a lava pool" levels). They're also largely unbothered by electric shocks.
They don't breathe, though they do actually have a heartbeat as their blood still gets pumped around their body. It doesn't provide any biological need of a living circulatory system, but is possibly part of keeping the body animated via magic.
Vampires do not produce body heat and tend to be room temperature to the touch unless they've fed within the last 24 hours, in which case they appear alive.
Lacking brain activity on account of being dead, vampires are immune to mind effecting spells and psionics. The fact that Astarion is affected by the tadpole is likely due to Netherese magic. The parasite is canonically modifying his undead state to its needs and has shut down his vampiric abilities, as he observes in one banter.
Their physical abilities massively increase. They have superhuman strength, speed and reflexes and are far more durable than the living.
Vampiric blood looks like humanoid blood at first glance, but takes on a golden sheen when held up to a light source. Also if the vampire it came from is still alive, then that blood can have strange magic properties… which are random! Maybe it burns like acid, or puts you under mind control if you touch it, or explodes into flame when exposed to sunlight! You won't know 'til you find out, it could do anything or nothing.
Vampires are capable of siring partially-undead children with the living (Dhampirs). Dhampirs are alive but as they grow up and their undead heritage starts to manifest they begin to share their vampire parent's cravings and feeding habits and are not terribly fond of said parent, as a rule.
Vampires are the only undead that require sleep. That turned out to be a very long topic of its own though, so maybe I'll focus on the details another time. Short version: Vampires have an instinctive knowledge of how close sunrise is. Some vampires can chose to sleep much like humans, others will immediately shut down the second the sun appears over the horizon and be dead until the moment it next sinks below said horizon, at which point the vampire is 1000% aware and awake again. They are bound to soil from their grave/homeland and must sleep on/in that or be destroyed. In BG3 specifically, looking at Cazador, elves still reverie (trance) in undeath. (In reverie, elves relive their memories of years gone by in vivid real time instead of dreaming. It's how elves avoid forgetting their own lives while living 700+ years) Vampires also hibernate, where they chose to go into a deep sleep for an unknown and uncontrollable length of time reaching centuries in length. Usually due to depression.
A vampire's body is frozen in time, and they will always have the same appearance they had when they died. The magic that keeps the vampire frozen in time, unageing, also gives them regenerative properties as it tries to reset them. Within minutes of receiving a wound, the wound has closed itself as if it were never there. "Wounds close, broken bones reform themselves, even missing limbs regenerate…" Reducing a vampire to 0 hit points also does not kill them, but that's for a later instalment. If one were to torture a vampire one could get both incredibly creative and make it last indefinitely.
They also can't get new tattoos or piercings, as the body heals them over again and pushes out the ink/metal. On the same logic if they had body modifications before they died then they'd never be able to get rid of them - if you scrape off the skin a tattoo is on or tore off a pierced lobe, the skin that grows back will still have the tattoo and the ear will have the hole for the earing still there.
However, there are forms of magical damage that inflict permanent marks on a vampire, which are called stigmata. Sunlight, holy water, holy symbols and the like are known to leave a scar. A silver plated blade might also do it.
There are two energy planes: Positive and Negative. Also known as the Planes of Life and Death, whose energies infuse the Prime Material Plane (which contains worlds like Earth and Toril). Living creatures are powered by positive energy (also called "radiant"), while the undead are animated by negative energy ("necrotic"). It's actually theorised that the undead somehow exist on the Prime Material Plane and the Negative Energy Plane simultaneously, though this seems gets into a lot of planar lore and conflicting information that I'm not going into. Traditionally, due to this difference, the undead are healed by spells made of negative/necrotic energy such as Inflict Wounds spells, but in reverse would be harmed by healing spells. 5e has not included this detail, that I've seen.
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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months
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Request: Steve being a hidden nerd in certain ways (ei: sports, camping, outdoor stuff like camping & vegetation/botony, bugs, animals & shit) the kids losing their collective mind as Steve tells them about it. Maybe on a camping trip or something???? I especially want Hop to be impressed.
This is maybe my first request that didn't have some kind of romantic relationship Steddie. They do have a little flirty moment, but beyond that, I liked the idea of just everyone loving Steve and being so intrigued by his knowledge of all of this random nature stuff. Also, no research was done here. Like, zero. I don't know what is true and what isn't so assume none of it is. This is fiction based on fiction and we're here for a good time. I've never been to Yosemite, but it is on the list for me and Liam to go! - Mickala ❤️
----------------------------------------------------
No one expected Steve to actually want to go camping. Sure, he wanted an RV, wanted to go to National Parks and see mountains and lakes and rivers, but they assumed he’d just want to stay in the RV.
They hadn’t expected him to bring tents.
They hadn’t expected him to suggest sleeping in the tents.
“But…we have an RV,” Mike said, suddenly no longer interested in their trip to Yosemite.
“To travel in. But we won’t all comfortably sleep in it. It’s made for five people at most.”
And that was that. The only people sleeping in the RV were Hopper and Joyce and Max and El, and everyone else was sleeping in tents.
The entire drive there was filled with arguments over music, arguing over who got to sit where, and Steve’s “fun facts” about the land they would be staying on.
He had apparently done quite a bit of research, or he had been hiding a whole wealth of knowledge from everyone.
His fun facts were actually interesting, and everyone quickly tuned in when he started telling them about how the mountains could be dated because of the type and color of the rocks, and how much of the sequoias had been destroyed over the last couple of decades and what they were doing to preserve what was left.
When they arrived, everyone stared in wonder at the meadow in front of them, the mountains as the backdrop to a beautiful sunset.
It would still be light for close to two hours, so they didn’t rush to set up the tents. They went on a short walk along the road they took to the campsite, Steve pointing out different types of plants and birds as they went.
Everyone was in awe of his information, but no one was as surprised as Hopper.
“Where did you learn all this?” he asked on the way back to the campsite as the kids raced each other ahead.
“I went to camp once when I was seven and then I was obsessed with nature. My parents wouldn’t let me go back to camp, but they let me get books and movies about plants and animals. In high school, I took geology and almost had a perfect grade. I just like this stuff,” Steve shrugged.
“So you only went to camp once? Is this your way of going to camp?” Hopper asked casually.
He didn’t usually ask questions that didn’t tell him something he absolutely needed to know.
“I guess. And to spend time with everyone. I like when we can all be together without hell surrounding us, ya know?” Steve admitted.
Hopper’s hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed in silent agreement.
Putting the tents up had been relatively easy, especially when Steve managed to show them a trick he taught himself when he was young and wanted to set up a tent in his backyard but never had anyone there to help him.
No one commented on how sad it was, but Steve realized it after he said it.
As everyone got their sleeping bags and lamps set up in their tents, Steve found a large rock along the edge of the creek in the meadow and sat on it, watching as the sun finally sank behind the mountains.
“Hey,” a voice startled Steve.
He relaxed when he turned to see that it was Eddie.
“Hey.”
“Mind if I sit with you for a minute? Kids are being a bit too much right now.”
“Go ahead,” Steve gestured to the spot next to him. “Not exactly a comfy seat, but the view can’t be beat.”
“Oh, so you’re rhyming now?” Eddie teased as he nudged Steve’s shoulder.
“Not on purpose,” Steve laughed. “It’s pretty great out here, though.”
“Yeah it is. You did good, Stevie.”
Steve looked over to see Eddie already smiling fondly at him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And, for what it’s worth, I think it’s pretty fucking cool that you love nature so much. Nature isn’t really a good friend of mine, but it’s pretty nice to hear about it from you.”
“I’ll make an explorer out of you yet, Eds.”
Eddie looked at him with a look he hadn’t seen on anyone before, at least not towards him.
“Maybe you will, Stevie.”
Eddie only sat there for another minute before excusing himself to check that none of the kids touched his brand new acoustic guitar.
Steve sat there until it was completely dark around him, watching the land in front of him shift ever so slightly as the breeze picked up and the cicadas started their nightly song.
Robin sat down next to him, rested her head against his shoulder and sat with him in silence for a few minutes.
“It’s good to be out here. I don’t think Max ever expected to see mountains like this. She keeps asking when she can climb them,” Robin whispered.
“She does remember her legs aren’t at 100% yet still, right?” Steve asked.
“I think she’s willing to give it a go anyway. What’s the point of being here and surviving everything if you can’t even try?”
Steve nodded.
“Wanna come tell us more about the trail we’re taking tomorrow?”
“You guys wanna hear about it now?”
“Yeah. We like that you’re passionate about it.”
Steve felt his cheeks heat up at the words.
“Okay then. If you guys don’t mind. There’s supposed to be a specific type of rabbit who burrows along this specific trail during the summer and they can grow to be nearly two feet long.”
“That sounds terrifying. Come tell everyone about it,” Robin said as she got up and offered him a hand.
He took it and made his way back to the group.
Everyone listened to him talk about their plan for tomorrow, not interrupting when he got sidetracking talking about the type of trees they would see and what kind of flowers tended to bloom during this particular time of year.
When Steve and Eddie slipped into their tent an hour or so later, they could have stayed in their respective sleeping bags.
But Steve was still too eager to talk about things, so Eddie sidled up next to him in his sleeping bag and held his hand while he talked for another hour about the waterfall they’d be seeing and the type of fish that would most likely be in the river.
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bogleech · 5 months
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I completely missed that a Mortasheen book was getting kickstarted! What's the best way to get updates on that? Is there some way to sign up for a bogleech.com news letter? I don't want to miss when it comes out
Oh it was kickstarted three years ago, but with the intention of coming out in only one year. A lot of stuff happened :( It's a tabletop RPG that's actually been in development by other folks for now a grand total of I think 15 years, with me just being the art and concept side. I was never really let in on 90% of that development or what caused it to go on that long but now I have enough stuff together that I should be able to get the book out for real in 2024, with the help of the remaining gameplay dev Morgan Mullins, a huge boost of additional development help from @gutsygills, and a dozen different artists I've paid to contribute.
Having sunk so much of my life into it, I won't make it at all possible for people to miss when it comes out. It's basically the thing I have to bank on as my main career for the foreseeable future, the first book is only intended as the start of a series of expansions, it'll have its own official website and get pitched to actual gaming stores. I've been really sweating to make it look as professional-ish as possible.
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Like the core D&D books it will have to be fairly pricey, we're looking at 200-300 pages, but I'd also put out much cheaper digital versions, and maybe little skinny "monsters only" books for people who just want to look at those :)
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The stats/abilities on these pages are already a little out of date, the gameplay system had some last minute updates following a lot of backer playtesting!
I dunno how many people reading this have maybe never heard of Mortasheen yet but it's a horror-comedy flavored homage to Pokemon and Digimon set in a world sort of like ours, thousands of years from now where there's goofy monsters and mutants and biotech while humans are very rare and endangered. Actually the setting most similar to it now is Adventure Time of all things, if it had a whole lot more body horror and no magic (but lots of biotechnology indistinguishable from it). But when development of this game began, Adventure Time was just that weird short pilot Nickelodeon passed up on. Now it will be coming out after Adventure Time had a finale, sequel movies and the first season of a followup series. It has literally taken more than an entire Adventure Time to get this done :( I did not mean for an answer to an ask to go on this long but it occurs to me as important information for my followers in general!!!
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chokochip27 · 10 months
Text
genshin characters learning that you can fight (part 1)
| alhaitham, zhongli
part two
warning: blood, violence, reader is visionless and can be the polar opposite of the character (you share some similarities, of course), genshin charas may be ooc
ALHAITHAM
although the two of you were admittedly polar opposites, it was exactly that contradiction that made him fall in love with you.
to alhaitham, you were capable and trustworthy. you are not a scholar, you are a librarian and a normal citizen in sumeru. you help people with their stuff, travel through far distances safely and giving easy suggestions and solutions to problems that are hard to solve for others.
it's not like you can keep up with everything that he can do, considering that he has a mind that not everyone can easily understand, you are sometimes confused at the words that leave his mouth. but to him, that was completely fine. you were very eager to learn despite not being a scholar. and you knew that even if people had different ways of thinking, it was exciting to understand the thoughts behind it.
unlike him, you were considerate, always thinking of the people around you, how they would feel in a situation if you do something—no matter who you were with—a stranger, an acquaintance, a close friend—you treated everyone with kindness and decency.
you were also quiet. maybe that was the similarity you shared with him. you're not the type of quiet that isn't confident to speak, but you were just quiet because you didn't speak when it wasn't necessary.
you are also very gentle with the way you speak, you always spoke softly that people would mistaken you as weak and delicate.
in spite of the fact that your manners were demure and tranquil, you did not avoid people. in fact, you enjoy other people's company, but you're the type to listen to them.
to alhaitham, you were serene. you are a comfort he never knew he needed in his life. so when the two of you got together, the love he had for you got softer, still deep nonetheless.
instead of bringing blossoming butterflies and explosions in his stomach, instead of giving him wild blushes that would reach from his chest up until his ears—you made him feel warm and comforted. your existence alone to him was comfort.
alhaitham wanted to know everything about you. and probably because of that eagerness to know that he actually knows you better than you know yourself.
"haitham, it is rare for you to come to aaru village."
you were here because you are currently working on building a library in the village, so that the people in the desert can access to more books. he missed you, so he headed here. he did not know the exact location you were in and asked questions to the people he knew here. and since he already stayed here during the operation of saving lord kusanali, the people gladly helped him and he was able to reach you quickly.
a sporadic upturn imprinted on his lips as he gazed at you softly. he reached out, cupping your cheek and tilting his head slightly to meet your gentle eyes.
"certainly. but, you are here."
you simply smiled. "i am flattered that my lover has gone here just to see me," you said, leaning your head to alhaitham's chest. you breathed out, feeling the tiredness seeping in your veins to disappear at the mere contact with him. you felt his hand caressing your head and his free arm wrapping around your waist.
alhaitham leaned his cheek on top of your head and pecked your temple. "tired?"
"yes, but it's nothing that i can't handle. thank you."
"i see. why don't we go outside and get some fresh air?"
"great idea, let's go."
the two of you went outside and walked through the soft sands of the desert. alhaitham held your hand the entire time while you had your arm encircled on his. the little walk was quiet yet comforting. there was no awkwardness or tension at all. the two of you are not the type to converse that much and each others' presence were only needed to know that you love one another.
but all of that was disrupted by a scream.
"HELP!!!"
you and alhaitham were startled. without hesitation, you ran to the source with alhaitham obediently following you and guarding you in case that someone ambushed from behind.
you ran and in sight, there was a group of eremites. there were twelve people, ganging up on a single person. you were about to approach them to alleviate the situation, but alhaitham gripped your arm. you turned to him, worried for the person, but you stiffened after seeing the glare on his eyes.
"do not ever rush in. i'll handle it."
as soon as he said that, his sword went flying towards the eremites. he controlled it with his vision, making it seem like a boomerang. it hit the five eremites that were close to the person who was being hurt for no reason. they collapsed, earning the attention of the other eremites.
"who's there?!"
"the akademiya?!"
"get him!"
when the remaining eremites rushed to your lover, knowing that he could truly handle this, you calmly went to the person and cut the ropes that she was tied into. "are you alright? are there any injuries that i must take note of?"
the person shook her head. "i'm alright... j-just some gashes on my arms and legs."
"do not underestimate gashes, young lady." you tore a portion of the long skirt that you were wearing (it was clean, you made sure of it before going out) and wrapped it around the wounds that were visible to your eyes. "depending on the severity of those, you might have to get them stitched. you wouldn't want that, no? being stitched is painful," you told her.
the lady laughed at your tone. "i wouldn't... thank you for coming to my help."
you chuckled and shook your head. "i didn't do anything, after all, it was my lover who—" you were cut off by seeing the horrified look on her face. you inclined your head in confusion at her reaction and turned at the source of the shadow dawning before you. you turned, only to see a blade aimed to your head.
"miss!"
alhaitham heard the call and gritted his teeth to see you being confronted by an eremite. he kicked down one of his enemies and ran the fastest as he has ever been to reach you. "(y/n)!"
even though to the two—to alhaitham and to the person you were helping, that you were about to die—but to you, you were going to be fine.
it has been a while, you simply thought.
without a moment of hesitation, you reached for the small dagger sitting quietly on your thigh and sliced the outer skin of the eremite's whole arm with such intensity and accuracy. the eremite let out a scream of pain, however you stood unfazed and composed. you slid on the sand and kicked the eremite's legs, causing them to fall with a groan.
you saw another eremite approaching closely, they seemed startled at your stunt, so you took that advantage to run over them and elbow them in the face. you threw your dagger to the other eremite's blade that was coming up behind you and jabbed them on the front of their neck using your heel.
you didn't feel gazes of bloodlust anymore, so you stretched your arms carefreely in the middle of battle and thought that there weren't threats anymore.
you yawned out of exhaustion and lack of sleep. i haven't moved like that in a while, so it really is tiring, you thought.
"(y/n)!" you turned to the exclaim of your lover and were startled to feel arms wrapped around you. you tried to return his gesture, but before you could do, his hands were on your shoulder, and you could see could feel the slight shake in his body. you blinked at the unfamiliar expression on his face.
why does he look so scared...?
"be careful next time... you shouldn't have rushed in to help so quickly."
you nodded and patted his hand. "i will. thank you, haitham. and i'm sorry."
he pursed his lips and shook his head. "you... don't have to apologize. i'm just glad you're alright." he frowned. "i'm sorry for not being able to protect you."
you continued patting his hands. "don't apologize, haitham. it was my choice to get in the middle of the fight, so i will take responsibility for it. it's not your fault."
alhaitham let out a shaky sigh and nodded at your words. "alright." he backed away, but still held your hands in fear that you would disappear at any moment.
he could still remember everything that you did and he could only stand there in shock.
he thought he knew everything about you, but never did you mention or show skills that you could fight. you handled those eremites without a vision with such ease and effortlessness. he thought that you could never make him feel so erratic about love, but he admits that his heart beat wildly at the sight of you fighting against eremites like that. he could even feel his face heating up at the moment your gentle eyes glinted dangerously at your enemies with unbreakable focus.
he watched from behind as you helped out the injured lady and covered his face that was painted with a volatile color of pink, the scenes of you fighting against the eremites repeating in his head again and again.
he wished that you would never get into harm's way again, but at the same time, he secretly wishes that he can see you fight like that again.
"haitham? are you alright? are you not coming with us?"
"no. i'll be there."
his heart was still thumping loudly on his chest.
it was so different from the usual you that was so soft and tranquil.
he wanted to see that unexpected side of yours once more.
extra:
"where did you learn how to fight like that?"
"my father was a mercenary and i love watching him train at home back then, so he taught me along the way."
"father was a mercenary? i never would have thought... why did you never tell me though?"
"you're a genius, haitham, so i thought you knew."
"i didn't. you and your father never made it seem it like you knew how to fight like that."
"really?"
"yes. when we get home, please tell me more about yourself, so that i am prepared."
"prepared...? for what exactly?"
"my heart."
"???"
ZHONGLI
you are very much like zhongli, a chatterbox. but a more optimistic and cheerful version. you have a way of making other people comfortable. the atmosphere around you was extremely approachable and people wouldn't hesitate to talk to you simply because your company is easygoing to be with.
you have a way of telling stories. you use sound effects way too much and you make gestures with either your hands and arms. it was so funny and interesting to look and listen to you because your happiness was way too contagious.
if zhongli was polite, elegant, serious, and regal, you were the complete opposite of that.
you were a happy-go-lucky person and admittedly loud, but not in an irritating way. in fact that way you were loud brought joy to others. you laughed and smiled a lot, you talked a lot and you are quite the weird person, but that doesn't mean you were immature. you just knew how to have fun in life. that was your motto, 'for life to be as laidback and happy as possible'.
and probably, you know how to be serious when needed. probably.
zhongli didn't know when, but you easily made a way to his heart. just one moment, he was taking note of all of your habits. he was watching you all the time and his gaze followed you every single time you were close. to him, you were an enigma that he couldn't predict nor read. yet you were so endearing and loveable at the same time.
you worked as a deliverywoman. it actually suited you because of your jolly personality. you always greeted customers with enthusiasm and treated them as if you have been friends for a very long time. zhongli knew this since there are a lot of times that he comes with you during his free time.
you have been together for two years. yet there was never a time where zhongli hasn't seen you frown or be in a mood where you are sad. whenever you two are together in private, you are still the chatterbox and happy person he knew, just a little softer than the usual.
he was actually worried that you didn't express your sadness, but you told him to not worry as you told him that you don't remember the last time you have been sad. you were the type to always look at the bright side. he was glad that you aren't exhausted from being like that every single day.
from the thousands of years that he has been living in teyvat, he has never met someone like you. it may be an exaggeration, but he was telling the truth. and he was extremely glad to meet you. not to mention, to be together with you, entwined as lovers was an eternal bliss to him that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. no contract would be able to break it.
today, the two of you were walking in guyun stone forest to delivery a package coming from a strange address. you told zhongli about this and he was worried since he didn't know if there were actual houses in guyun. because of this, he came with you.
"whoa! i've heard of stories from you, love, but i didn't expect guyun to be this... cool and so... wham!" your eyes were sparkling in excitement, causing your lover to smile affectionately. "although..." he hummed and pointed all his attention to you. "...it's swarming with monsters, haha!" you exclaimed, laughing at the hilichurls and ruin guards in the place. you even saw some abyss mages on top of the mountain.
zhongli chuckled. normally people would be scared, wouldn't they? you really are such an enigma. he wrapped his arm around your waist and told you, "indeed, so you have to stay close to me at all times."
"i will be protected by the god of contracts himself! my, what an honor!" you joked, poking his cheek. zhongli only chuckled more and leaned closer to you.
"what does the address say?"
"well... i actually wouldn't know since it only says at the corner of guyun." you sweatdropped and crossed your arms with a pout. "to whoever sent this, if this is a prank, i'll bonk you! there are so many corners yet you weren't specific at all! i love my job, but i would be having a date with my lover if weren't for this, you know!" you declared, your words only making your partner laugh.
you were ranting and your usually vigilant lover was going along with your antics, so you two didn't notice the large lawachurl approaching from behind.
zhongli heard the footsteps, wrapped his arm around you and immediately summoned his shield to protect the two of you. the lawachurl's fist stopped midair and you were left flabbergasted at the exchange, but you snapped out of your daze and jerked your head towards zhongli. his amber eyes were glowing a bright gold, yet you still couldn't help but be concerned for him.
under his protection, you cupped his cheek, asking in alarm, "li! are you alright?"
he blinked at your concern and smiled. "of course. why would you ask that, my beloved?"
you breathed out in relief and shook your head. "it's nothing..." you assured him and gripped his clothes tightly. you looked around, gulping at the swarm of lawachurls surrounding the two of you. can li really handle this...? you glanced at zhongli who was holding dominance over the lawachurl in front of him. i know he's a god, but... you sighed shakily at the number of ruin guards approaching you two. there are so many of them.
if only i could help him and lessen his burden... your eyes caught sight of an old great sword coincidentally laying on the ground. oh, speak of the devil, you thought and crouched down to hold it.
"(y/n), i will handle this, so please stay here." before he could even get your response, your figure ran past him.
zhongli has never felt so much fear in his life.
his heart dropped as he yelled your name, "(y/n)!"
he gritted his teeth and was about to chase after you, but he was stumped, stupefied beyond belief at what he saw.
you just sliced a lawachurl into half.
he stood there, stopped in his tracks as he watched you continue to evade the attacks of the monsters and cut their limbs, you effortlessly swung the claymore at them and defeat them in the blink of an eye. you were similar to him in a way. defeating opponents without even batting an eye.
as you fought, you were still wearing the smile he loves so much. the difference is the feeling behind it. unlike your normal smile that was filled with joy everyday, your smile right now was calm and confident as if you completely knew what you were doing and you weren't going to lose anytime soon.
a god like him has witnessed all sorts of phenomenon and events in this world, but never would he have thought to see his beloved partner—not to mention, you did not have a vision—defeating monsters so easily. you were just using pure strength to fight the lawachurls.
how come he didn't know anything about this? how come you never told him that you could fight this gallantly and professionally?
his mouth separated, gaze shimmering as he watched you in complete awe.
you didn't even need his help. your strength even rivaled those to who have visions, maybe you were even more powerful. that's how strong you were.
and that's exactly why he was just standing there. he was so enamored with you. he didn't even notice the slight blush that was covering his cheeks and the love swirling in his eyes.
why do you constantly do things that surprise him?
"li!" you called him, breaking him out of his bafflement. you grinned, throwing the package away and lifting the claymore easily with one hand. "come on! we gotta finish this, right?"
his eyes fluttered in confusion, but he quickly smiled and summoned his polearm.
"i suppose you're right."
he has fallen for you all over again.
extra:
"how in the archons' names were you able to do all of those things?"
"hm? didn't i mention that i was a former pirate, li?
"you mentioned that, yes, but... i thought you were responsible for cooking food."
"yeah! that's true! ohhh, i think i forgot to mention that i sometimes substituted for captain beidou if she had things to do! i've been friends with her for so long after all, so i eventually learned how to fight like boom, whack, fwam, too!"
"you never told me that..."
"awww, sorry! stop pouting at me like that! uwah—you're so cute!"
"you're cuter. and don't do such reckless things next time."
"yes, my lord!"
note: sorry, i just love characters that have a certain duality in them! like y'know, they change according to the situation and they're like a different person? holy moly, that's so hot. anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this! part two will be ayato and kazuha. idk when will i be able to write it, but hopefully, i can write it shortly after this. have a great day!
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kitspindles · 1 year
Text
I’m in no way bashing on people who have already finished TSatS and say they hate it, are disappointed, etc., because I myself have not gone past chapter seven. My friend let me read some today, but I won’t have my own copy until Thursday, so maybe my opinions will change. I will say, however, that if you read 400+ pages in less than a day, maybe give yourself some time to process the entire plot first?
In any case, I can’t help but wonder how many people went into this book expecting one version of Nico and Will, only to be hit with something else entirely. And I mean like... expecting the fandom’s versions of these two, rather than what canon has previously shown us up until this book.
It’s my personal opinion that the PJO fandom’s worse enemy is their own mischaracterization of the characters at times. And I don’t mean like little head canons and stuff. Everyone has done those at some point. There’s usually no harm in those. I’m talking about people who created their own versions of Nico and Will and have been running with these visions for years through different fan fictions and what-not online.
For years we’ve known basically nothing about Will aside from the fact that he’s sarcastic, likes Star Wars, his mom is a country singer, he can glow in the dark, and he’s better at healing than fighting. (And he has questionable fashion choice at times). Like, that’s all we’ve had since his initial introduction in The Last Olympian over a decade ago. Everything else? Online and fan speculation. And again, there is nothing wrong with that! I just feel like a lot of people went into this book holding onto their own pre-conceived visions of what Will Solace was and ended up disappointed the authors made him... different? But not really different, because he didn’t have a lot of in-depth personality or backstory before this.
Me personally? Yeah, I’m not that far into the book yet but I’m loving how Will is portrayed so far. He’s still sarcastic, but he’s shown his fair share of level-headedness as well as frustrations just within the first couple chapters. He is in no way the overly-optimistic sunshine-y boy who only exists to help Nico that the fandom has portrayed him to be all these years. His character arc is already headed in a way deeper direction (more on that when I finish the book). The whole bit where Will had coffee spilled on him and spent the next couple paragraphs in the scene trying to be unbothered while actually giving off “This is fine” fire dog energies? I loved that.
As for Nico, can I just say I adore how he’s written in this book? Aside from his PoV in Blood of Olympus, this is the first time he’s had his own narration. And it’s actually about him and more in-depth than previous times. I’ve heard people say that he’s “out of character,” and while I can see a little of what they’re all saying, I just want to know... what version of Nico have you all been reading? Did I miss something?
Up until this book, what exactly did we know about Nico? That he’s displaced in time, his sister and mother are both dead (and he feels alone), he harbored repressed gay feelings from his upbringing as a Catholic guy in 1940s Italy, and he’s been through the ringer more than once (so, trauma, basically). Oh, and he’s a bit of a nerd (Mythomagic and knowing all kinds of ancient creatures). That’s... about it. Everything has been speculation and projection from fans.
In previous books he’s always been portrayed from first- or third-person point of view (usually from people who don’t know him well and just think he’s “creepy”), leading to the idea that he’s distant and low-empathy based on some interactions he’s had with demigods who weren’t thrilled to be around him, during a time of great pressure. But he’s not exactly uncaring. He’s been shown to care a lot, actually (Bianca, Hestia, Bob, everything he’s done for Percy, his friendship with Reyna, Hazel, etc.)
But what about when he was ten? He was an excitable, curious kid who liked to have fun. And what did we see briefly in Trials of Apollo (before Jason died, at least)? We saw some of that energy return, particularly in The Hidden Oracle.
So, yeah, I’m personally thrilled to see him making cringe-y jokes and have some self-deprecating humor. It’s very “#OnBrand” for a traumatized teenager who’s just trying to cope and live life without any godly wars forcing him this way and that. Can we really say it’s “out of character” if we’ve never seen more than one side of Nico? (The under pressure side, from other character’s PoVs, in books not about him where he’s basically been a side character?) I’m just glad to see him cracking jokes, laughing, and acting more like a normal kid.
Now, is this book different from Rick’s other ones? Uh, yeah. I won’t say it’s not. But it’s not bad. It’s supposed to be different. It has slightly different intentions than the other books (re: explicitly working through trauma and relationship bumps). Also, it’s co-written. Co-written books always read slightly off from the original author’s work, but dam if it isn’t hard to meld writing styles and copy another author’s particular voice. But I think Mark did a very good job at imitating Rick’s style (again, from what I’ve read so far).
Will I change my mind on all this the farther I get into the book? Maybe. There’s a lot to read and take in. All I’m saying is don’t let the negative reviews warp your opinion of the book if you haven’t read it yet and are on the fence if you should or not. Wait for the PDF to drop, or for a library copy, and read and see for yourself.
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anonymous-dentist · 15 days
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Part Three of the Catboy in the Village AU
Part One | Part Two
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Cellbit has been in and out of several prisons in his life. He's no stranger to captivity, he knows how it works. He knows how the system works, and he's not expecting the queen to be any better than any of his previous wardens.
...Still. It's kind of nice to be given a cell with an actual bed in it. With bedsheets- silk, probably, they're soft. And a rug on the marble floor to keep the chill away. And bookshelves. With books in them. Interesting-looking books, too: mysteries, judging by the titles, and ones he didn't have access to back home due to Gato Kingdom customs laws.
But, like. Fuck the queen. She kidnapped him and his husband, she's currently working on kidnapping their children, and she doesn't seem keen to give Cellbit and Roier any chance to escape.
The cell- a bedroom, Roier had called it, but, really, it's a cell- doesn't have any windows. The door is unlocked, but there are two guards outside who are apparently supposed to follow Cellbit and-slash-or Roier wherever they go.
There are clothes in the wardrobe that are clearly recycled from some other member of Gato royalty. They're all finer than anything Cellbit has ever known, and he thinks he'd rather die than wear them.
Roier, though? He's not happy about being kidnapped, and he's even less happy about not having anything to protect himself and Cellbit with, but he seems happy enough about the 'lost prince' treatment that Cellbit's getting.
"When we escape, we're bringing the clothes with us," Roier decides on night two of their forced stay in the castle.
They're in bed, Roier wrapped protectively around Cellbit's back and holding him so tightly that Cellbit's ribs hurt. It's close to midnight, but neither of them can sleep, because how can they sleep when their kids are an entire kingdom away?
Cellbit quietly laughs. "Yeah? How?"
"You'll carry them."
"Oh, will I?"
"Yes, obviously. I have to have my arms free for fighting."
Roier's breath ghosts over the back of Cellbit's neck. It's warm, and Roier is warm, and the blankets are warm, and it all feels so cozy and yet so wrong. The bed is too nice. The bed is too big. The room is too big. Roier's clothes are too soft. It's too quiet, where is all the noise?
The entire time that Cellbit has been in the castle, these past two days, he has seen a handful of people: a few guards, a total of two servants, and, of course, the queen. But she's been too busy trying to rebuild her kingdom to bother with the men she's had kidnapped, and Cellbit hasn't seen much of her outside of the meals he and Roier are dragged to twice a day.
The queen is... interesting. She's a total piece of shit and Cellbit kind of hates her more than he can describe, but she refuses to be addressed by any of the usual titles; she keeps correcting her knights when they call her anything but 'Bagi', and she looks two seconds away from murder every time Cellbit calls her 'your highness'. She seems to actually care about her kingdom, which is a marked difference from her parents, and she spends all day locked in her study in the tallest of the castle's towers working on... queen stuff. Whatever it is she does, Cellbit doesn't know. He isn't royalty, he's an alchemist. This is all foreign to him.
"Who says we need to fight?" Cellbit asks. "Maybe they'll just... let us go when they figure out they've got the wrong Cellbit."
"Mm, maybe. Or, hear me out, I knock out a guard, steal their sword, and then I carry you out of here. Easy."
Cellbit imagines it. He smiles as his imaginary Roier spontaneously becomes shirtless mid-escape.
He snuggles back into his real shirtless husband's chest with a happy little trill. His trill becomes a proper purr as one of Roier's hands trails up and into Cellbit's hair, landing at the base of his ears and scratching lightly. His eyes slip shut, and his back arches, and he loves his husband so much! He's so sweet even when he's the victim of a kidnapping, he's literally the perfect man.
"Aww, gatinho," Roier coos. "You are the prince... of my heart."
Gods, that's cheesy.
Cellbit loves him.
"That... doesn't even make... sense..." Cellbit murmurs, voice obscured by his purring.
Roier sighs dramatically: "Fine, you're the king of my heart. Better?"
"Mmmmmmmm."
Roier chuckles fondly. "Mhmm, I see, yes, yes."
Cellbit bats a hand in the vague direction of Roier's face. He doesn't make contact, but that's fine. He'd rather die than hurt Roier, even playfully.
A kiss plants itself between Cellbit's ears. He melts, all thoughts evaporating outside of warm and Roier. Warmoier...
(The room doesn't have a window, so neither of them see the faint green light surrounding the castle.)
He's jerked back into his body as the entire castle shakes and rattles to the point of books falling off of their shelves. He's nearly tossed out of bed, only staying in bed thanks to Roier.
Cellbit immediately tries sitting up, but Roier pulls him back down with a hissed, "Be careful!"
"We'll be safer on the floor," Cellbit huffs. "Come on."
He drags Roier off of the bed and, together, they huddle beneath it clinging to each other.
"This sucks," Roier complains. He grips Cellbit's arm tightly, definitely not worried about the literal earthquake they're stuck in the middle of. "We just got comfortable!"
"We can get comfortable again," Cellbit assures him.
He feels it before he hears it. His entire body recoils upon instinct, his ears pressing down against his head just as an otherworldly wail echoes up from somewhere and burrows into his very bones.
"Are you sure?" Roier asks, wide-eyed. "What the fuck? Is this place haunted?"
The wailing continues. Roier has to let go of Cellbit so he can clap his hands over his ears. Cellbit covers his own ears, but it doesn't stop the chill in his bones, and it doesn't make the sick feeling growing in his stomach go away.
"I hope it is!" Cellbit replies, his voice near a shout from how loud the wailing is. "At least it would be interesting!"
Roier rolls his eyes. "Oh, at least!"
And then, just like that, the shaking stops. The wail cuts itself off with a sob, and then it's gone.
Cellbit looks at Roier. Roier looks at Cellbit.
Slowly, Cellbit lowers his hands from his ears, though his ears don't perk back up.
"You know," he says, "I don't think the queen told us everything when she kidnapped us."
"No shit," Roier grumbles. He moves his hands from his ears to Cellbit's hands, linking their fingers together; their hands are shaking from the adrenaline, but they seem to stabilize as soon as they're holding each other.
"I bet she doesn't even think I'm the prince," Cellbit continues. He looks down at his and Roier's joined hands. "I bet we're some kind of sacrifice to whatever spirit is haunting this castle."
"That's ridiculous," Roier scoffs. "I wouldn't be a sacrifice. You, yes, but me?"
He laughs as Cellbit untangles his fingers from Roier's and crawls out from under the bed. As he does so, Roier calls out to him and grabs his ankle and tries pulling him back under. Cellbit kicks at him, and Roier bites Cellbit's ankle, and Cellbit uses his leg to pull Roier out from under the bed, and they end up pressed against each other on the rug surrounded by fallen books laughing.
Roier, on top for the moment, leans down to kiss Cellbit.
That, of course, is when their cell's door slams open and the guards stationed outside come running in with alarmed expressions on their faces.
Cellbit groans and shoots the guards a dirty look.
"Do you mind?" he snaps.
At least the guards have the decency to look ashamed as they take in Cellbit and Roier's... position.
Roier huffs out a sigh and collapses onto Cellbit's chest, laying his head on its side on Cellbit's chest so he can glare at the guards properly.
"Can we help you?" Roier asks.
"Um," says one guard, clearly blushing and absolutely mortified. "Sorry. The prince has been requested in the queen's study. Uh. Sorry. We'll just..."
She and her fellow guard awkwardly bow, and then they start slowly backing out of the cell.
They aren't alarmed by the scattered books, Cellbit notices. No mention of the earthquake or the wailing, either. This is normal, then.
Hm.
Cellbit feigns a yawn. "Well, tell her majesty that both me and my husband would like to sleep after whatever the hell that was that woke us up. Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning."
The guards freeze. They go pale, look at each other, look back to Cellbit.
Roier lifts a hand and waves it dismissively towards them. "You heard the prince, go away."
Cellbit waits until the guards are gone before pushing Roier off of him and shooting him a halfhearted glare.
"'You heard the prince'?" he asks. "Really?"
Roier shrugs innocently. "It got them to leave. Now, get back here."
He growls playfully before pouncing back onto Cellbit. He frames Cellbit's face with his hands, and then he kisses him roughly. And then he kisses him softer after Cellbit mumbles something against his lips about being tired and wanting to get back into bed.
"You're so weak," Roier teases, lips moving against Cellbit's as he speaks.
"I'm weak... for you."
Cellbit laughs as Roier groans and tears himself away to go mope his way back into the bed. He's soon to follow, and he's immediately snatched back into Roier's arms and held captive once again.
This castle may be a very nice prison, but there's no better one than Roier's arms. It is simply the best, and Cellbit should know; it's the only prison he's never tried to escape from.
______________
To be continued...
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graceshouldwrite · 6 months
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How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)
POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?
For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.
It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)
...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)
...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).
Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:
1. Read + Research
Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.
History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:
Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.
48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!
The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families
Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.
The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.
Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.
Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.
Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...
A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.
2. Plan. Like, meticulously
First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.
Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.
Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.
A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.
However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.
3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue
The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).
But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.
4. Explore through a narrow lens
Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.
You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.
However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.
∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘
instagram: @ grace_should_write
Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)
I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.
Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.
Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)
Happy writing, and have a great day!
- grace <3
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artbyblastweave · 2 months
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Hey so, thought exercise, how do you think Taylor would fare if she got dropped into the invincible universe? For the sake of mechanics let's say she literally gets dropped in via doorman portal or something.
So one thing about Invincible is that I think it's setting is protagonist-centric in a way that Worm's isn't. To the extent that Invincible's setting has worldbuilding- worldbuilding that isn't, like, ported in from the books's early association with the confederated Image Comics shared universe- it's worldbuilding that exists to convey the impression of a big-two-flavor universe. Here's our spin on the undersea kingdom, here's the riff on the Martians, here are our riffs on SHIELD, on Gotham, on Themyscira, on 70s blaxploitation-adjacent heroes, and so on. This is the entire ethos underpinning the Guardians of the Globe in particular- piggybacking on pre-existing audience affection for the Justice League to convey that it's a Big Fucking Deal when the guardians get blendered in issue 7.
You have flashbacks demonstrating that there was capital-S Superhero Stuff going on in the seventies and eighties, or as far back as the thirties with Immortal, you create the impression of a status quo, a big pond in which Mark is a little fish. And to Kirkman's credit, some effort clearly went into making sure that the non-Mark capes are sufficiently fleshed out that you can believe that they've got other stuff going on in their lives. But at the end of the day, it's the Invincible universe. You don't see a lot of people talking about the Guarding the Globe spinoff. Many of the most interesting characters- Cecil being a big example here- are interesting because of the ways in which they bounce off Mark specifically, the ways in which he chooses to deal with them. The universe is less of a character in the story the way that Earth Bet is- it's just the place where Mark's story, specifically, is happening. If there's a codified setting bible, I'll eat my hat.
Now of course the world of Worm is, in many ways, equally Taylor-centric, because that's what it means to be the protagonist. But owing in part to the themes of the story, and in part to the sheer number of false-start protagonists Wildbow played around with before settling on Taylor, it's very good at conveying the idea that there are many stories happening in this setting and Taylor's is just the one this particular work happened to focus on. There's an actual point to doing OC worldbuilding for what the superhero scene looks like in Wormverse Denver or Seattle or whatever- whereas you can come up with superhero teams for Invincible-verse Denver, but what actually ties them to that universe? What are you getting out of putting them in Invincible specifically, that you wouldn't get from whipping up a barebones MASKS setting to support your OCs? Anyway. This is a really long way of getting to my real point, which is that I think the question is less "how does Taylor bounce off the Invincible setting" and more "How does Taylor bounce off Invincible the character, around whom the setting orbits even when it pretends not to."
This I'm unsure of, because where do you stick her in his life where you get an interesting dynamic? One thing that's interesting here is that Mark's overall character arc already involves learning a lot of taylorisms- the strategic ruthlessness, the shift from a good-evil dichotomy to a helping-not-helping dichotomy-so what about his arc is going to change if they spend time together? Why would they spend time together? Given the different power levels on display, what would differentiate her, in his experience, from the dozens of filler capes that exist for him at the level of "vague acquaintance?" This is assuming she's active as a cape at all, which she might not be if this is Post-GM. Mutual association through Cecil and the Global Defense Agency might be a hook- maybe they're paying for her new arm or something- but would she latch her cart to Cecil's wagon in the first place, barring some obvious crisis situation? Hard to say. If she's depowered, and present in his life somehow in a civilian context, well, that's a fast-track to not being part of the story anymore either, given how Mark's civilian connections slowly fading away was kind of a quiet plot point.
There's some configuration of these pieces that could be interesting, but I'm not quite sure what they are. Soliciting input here.
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astronicht · 21 days
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Replying to a comment on this ask reply about evil in the North in LOTR (but it was too long to actually put in a comment ,)
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@warrioreowynofrohan I'm so glad evil is in the north in The Silmarillion!! I have also been promised that the story of the creation of the world is also in there, since Frodo fell asleep during Tom Bombadil’s early medieval cosmology lesson. I really, really want to know what happens in Elf Creation, because Tolkien did not write a book about it academically but CLEARLY had at least a few opinions about early medieval ideas of where the world came from, which he possibly just put in Middle Earth, if he had them fleshed out enough. This makes me nuts bc CS Lewis, meanwhile, wrote a whole-ass book called The Discarded Image about his idea* of the medieval vision of the cosmos (like where is outer space, where are the planets, where’s heaven, etc, including How It All Got Made) and also per the word of a thesis supervisor back in the day who was super into this stuff, worked symbolism of the planets in the medieval cosmos into one of his fictional works.
*bc the rest is under cut: if you want a more accurate read for medieval and Renaissance cosmology, the textbook is Planets, Stars, and Orbs by Edward Grant. I would not recommend TDI for historical accuracy
Lewis brushes over early medieval ideas only briefly (early medieval anything is actually not usually included in medieval academia on a theme; it’s sort of a weird zone from ca. 600-1100 AD, and Grant doesn't cover it either). But while the book is interesting on some points, it's pretty misleading, and CS Lewis's one solid error was presenting all of medieval cosmology as a Single Idea, which it also very much was not. People did not magically stop arguing about how the world got made and what it looked like for one thousand years, and modern scholarship has looked at that. But he was reading all the same texts as Tolkien, and this weird oversight that has bothered me for years, and for YEARS i have been wondering if Tolkien thought something else. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t! WHY did he put the seven stars (the five visible planets plus the sun and moon) on Aragorn’s sword PLUS the sun and moon, throwing off the count entirely?? Maybe he did not actually give a shit). I look forward to finding out, and probably suffering for it.
RE: Gollum! Your actual question! Honestly at the moment (aka at the end of Fellowship), Gollum seems like such a thoroughly Grendel figure that I almost get worried I’m being lured into a 1:1 comparison, when Tolkien seems to enjoy making a bunch of different references within each character. Strider is King Arthur, Strider is that guy in that saga nicknamed Strider, Strider is another guy with a sword situation in another saga(??) (I have not read enough Norse sagas). Gollum, though, is associated with the underground and with water; he has his dark low pool; Grendel lives in a low dark pool (with his mum). Even being cast out by a matriarch maaaaybe suggests something of Grendel’s Mother, who is just as much a main character, or perhaps more so; she’s the final boss of the Grendel bit of Beowulf, after all. So in conclusion: yeah I see your point! I'd be curious to figure out what else is being folded in. However, assuming the Grendel similarities are on purpose, congrats to Tolkien for the only good Beowulf adaptation ever.
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floralcyanide · 25 days
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ɪғ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɪs ᴡʀᴏɴɢ, I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ — ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ
john “bucky” egan x fem!reader
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Lunch with Dr. Egan leads to him showing you old photographs at his home, which opens a door to a new side of your advisor and your relationship with him.
(Headcanons: One | Two)
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warnings: age gap (reader is 23-25, Bucky is in his 40s), descriptions of war, the insinuation of ptsd, smoking, drinking, mentions of alcohol
word count: 2k
author’s note: here is the first part (maybe) to my Professor Bucky au!! if ya'll want more just let me know, I'm indecisive about it tbh. I probably won't write smut for this series though. feedback is appreciated!
masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune
based on this song | (If Loving You Is Wrong) I Don't Wanna Be Right - Barbara Mandrell
(when it’s from Bucky’s point of view, I will use Bucky rather than Dr. Egan.)
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
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You’re giddy, like it’s the first day of class all over again, except it’s a different type of nervousness. It’s not like you’re going on a date or anything, but you’re seeing your advisor outside of campus. It’s a little nerve-wracking. Especially because he’s so interesting and attractive and… are you crushing on Dr. Egan? Absolutely, positively not! He’s your superior and advisor, and you will never cross that line. Even if you find him fascinating in numerous ways. 
The small restaurant that Dr. Egan suggested is bustling with people when you arrive. You sit patiently in the booth as you wait for your superior to show. When he finally approaches, he apologizes profusely for being late.
“It’s okay, Dr. Egan. You’re a busy man.”
This launches the two of you into a conversation about your extracurricular activities and life outside of work and school. Dr. Egan wants to know more about your work at the museum. You tell him all about how it started and where you see it going. He listens intently the entire time, asking questions throughout the conversation. You eventually order your meals and continue discussing the museum until the topic strays.
“I have a lot of photos of us from where we were stationed,” Dr. Egan mentions around a sip of water, “I think I have some of your father, actually.”
You sit up at that, “Really?”
“Quite a few of me too. Would you want to see them?” Dr. Egan chuckles at your sudden interest.
“Of course I would,” you say with a grin, “When and where?”
“If you’re okay with it, I don’t live too far from here. I have a lot of stuff you can look at if you’d like.”
After lunch concludes, you and Dr. Egan head over to his quaint home near downtown- a mere walk from the restaurant. The living room has a large array of books and records on a bookcase the size of a wall, some paperwork is strewn on the couch and on the dining room table. Dr. Egan profusely apologizes for the mess.
“I can’t imagine how many assignments you have to grade,” you say, taking in the various novels and history books on the bookcase, “I don’t mind the mess.”
“All the stuff is in the extra room,” Dr. Egan says, motioning to the hallway with a smile.
He appreciates your love for literature and history and your patience with his lived-in home. Bucky would never ask if you had a partner as it isn’t professional or his business, but he’d be surprised if you’re single. If he were your age all over again- he would stop his train of thought there before it travels any further. You giddily follow him into his guest room, where there are shelves full of things, including photographs. 
“Here’s one of just your father,” Dr. Egan says, holding the photo over his shoulder to you as he scuffles through other pictures.
You carefully take the photograph, look over it, and take in your father in his youth. He’s never shown you many photos of him from the war; usually, they’re of him with other soldiers or aren’t of the best quality. But this photo is up close, and your father is alone.
“You can have it if you want,” Dr. Egan says as you stand next to him, still eyeing the picture.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“I’m certain. I collected most of the photos and stuff the others didn’t want. If I can pass them down, I will.”
You smile at Dr. Egan, who returns it as he looks back down at the table, “This one is me.”
You grab a hold of the left side of the photograph, and Dr. Egan lets you take it from his grasp to look closer, “This Is you?”
“Sure is,” he says.
Dr. Egan was beyond handsome- still is, of course. His curls were darker, and his skin less freckled. He had a little more light in his eyes. You happen to glance up and see a photo of him where he appears much different. Dr. Egan has quite a bit of facial hair and looks shell-shocked. He quickly moved the photo, which looked like a POW card, under some others. You glance over at him, and he gives you an uneasy look before turning his attention to a photo of another young man.
“This is my good friend, Gale,” Dr. Egan clears his throat, “he was with your father and me a lot through training and overseas.”
Sensing a change in the older man’s demeanor, you change the subject, “We don’t have to go through your things if it brings back sore memories.”
“Ah, don’t worry about me. I’d rather tell the stories over and over than forget.”
You hesitantly reach for the area where he shoved the POW card out of sight, sliding it out from under some other pictures.
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to know more about this,” you hold up the photo, giving Dr. Egan an earnest look.
“You’ll have to get a few drinks in me first,” he half-jokes.
You raise an eyebrow with a smirk, “That’s all it takes, Dr. Egan?”
The layered comment doesn’t go past him as he takes a step closer to you, your chests almost touching, “Just know my life can get a little dark.”
You stare up at him, your gaze careful, “I can handle it.”
The tension is palpable but Dr. Egan breaks it by taking a step back,  “I hope you like whiskey ‘cause it’s all I’ve got.”
You follow him to the living room, where he pours two glasses of whiskey, handing one to you as you take a seat on the couch. Dr. Egan sits on the side of the couch that’s by the record player, where he puts on something to play quietly as you talk.
“I was shot down back in forty-four and landed in Germany,” Dr. Egan pulls out a cigar from his pocket before clipping it and lighting it, “You don’t mind, right?”
You shake your head and let him continue his story.
“Managed to hide for a day before I was found. It was a rough few days of being captured. I thought I was going to die for sure until I made a run for it when I had the chance.”
You watch Dr. Egan carefully, his eyebrows furrowed as he replayed the memories in his head. He puffs the cigar before sighing, “Then I got captured for real by the Nazis, and they interrogated me. Didn’t say a word.”
“I bet that was terrifying,” you frown.
“Yeah,” Dr. Egan nods, his face breaking out into a solemn smile, “Before I got shot down, Gale had been declared MIA. I was worried he had gotten into trouble, but Gale is Gale, he always got himself out of any trouble he got into. Anyway, when I got to the POW camp, I found him there. So we stuck together.”
“That’s good that you had someone you knew there,” you say.
“Knew a few men there, actually. Some didn’t make it out.”
You put a hand on Dr. Egan’s knee, the whiskey making you a little brave, “You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to, Professor.”
Dr. Egan glances down at your hand before moving his eyes back to yours, “Like I said, I’d rather remember than forget.”
Your hand doesn’t leave his knee as he continues his story, describing the work he had to do over the months he was at the camp. Dr. Egan finally gets to when he escapes, and they end up at another POW camp, where the Nazis fail. 
“I ran around like a madman looking for a flag,” Dr. Egan chuckles, shaking his head, “Did finally find one. Scrambled up to the pole and put up that American flag, and for the first time since the war started, I felt safe.”
“Do you still feel that way? Safe?” you ask.
“I don’t think there’ll be another war anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Egan lets his cigar go out.
“No, I mean, do you feel safe in general? My father still has nightmares about it all. He refuses to get help,” you say sadly.
“There are times I’ll wake up sweating without remembering what I dreamt about, and there’s no doubt it’s about the war,” Dr. Egan polishes off his second glass of whiskey, “But I’m in a good place. I do what I love, and I get to teach brilliant minds like you.”
“That’s great. What more could you want?” 
Dr. Egan snorts at that, waving his hand dismissively, “Nothing that I could discuss without embarrassment.”
“We tell each other just about everything, Dr. Egan,” you say, leaning in a tad closer, “You can trust me.”
Dr. Egan lets his eyes flutter to your lips for only a second before boring his eyes into yours, “But can you trust me?”
“I do. I do trust you,” you say softly, taking in the odd look on your superior’s face.
“I’m just alone whenever I’m not in class or on campus. And it gets to me sometimes,” Dr. Egan shrugs, “No big deal.”
“Many of us wish for more in the romance department, Dr. There’s no embarrassment there.”
Your palm burns through Bucky’s slacks, and he feels fidgety when making contact. It had been a while since anyone had laid a hand on him in any way. It didn’t help that you made him nervous. You’re quite the looker and intelligent beyond your means. You’re compassionate about everything and seem to notice Bucky more than everyone else. Maybe it’s because you knew there was something about him the day you met him that was different. And now that you know what it is, you don’t treat him any differently. 
“It’s just that not everyone wants to be with someone with a past like mine or deal with the current consequences of that past, you know?” 
Your face contorts into one of sadness, “Oh, that’s not true, Dr. Egan.”
“You can call me John, you know,” Dr. Egan says abruptly.
“There’s a lot of people who wouldn’t mind being with someone with a rough past, John.  A lot of us have things we carry that we aren’t proud of,” you say.
“Would you mind?” 
“Mind what?”
“A rough past.”
“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t mind it.”
You suddenly notice how close the two of you have become in proximity, and you struggle to snap out of the haze filling the room. Bucky knows better, but he still lets his hand find your hip. His touch is blazing hot, and you nearly gasp at the sensation. He gently guides you onto his lap, where you perch yourself without much thought. Bucky’s other hand finds itself on your other hip, his fingers squeezing deftly into the fabric of your skirt. He stares up at you without a word, the room now quiet as the record had long since stopped playing. 
“What else would you not mind?” Dr. Egan asks you, his gaze taking in your form.
You exhale shakily and let a laugh escape your lips, “Not much.”
Dr. Egan lets his right hand slide up your body until he reaches your neck, his thumb lightly caressing your pulse, “That doesn’t help me any, doll.”
You know it’s wrong, but it feels so right. It feels so perfect to be the center of Dr. Egan’s attention and to be so close to him physically. You’re both adults and are capable of making decisions, even if they have consequences. You decide to end Dr. Egan’s teasing and you move your hands from where they were on his shoulders to his cheeks. Pulling him to you, you meet halfway to press your lips to his. Something in that moment feels complete, like the stars are aligned and the world is standing still. Dr. Egan’s hand grasps the back of your neck as he kisses back, throwing all caution to the wind. 
You feel yourself getting too warm, so you pull away from the embrace with a little reluctance. Dr. Egan follows your lips before opening his eyes.
“Why’d you stop?”
“It has been a while for you, hmm? Take a lady to dinner first, John,” you fix a piece of hair behind his ear, chuckling at his expression.
“Dinner it is, then.”
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