#bold of you to assume I want my shows to have stakes

[thekatebridgerton]

I was thinking about something, Anthony got the chance to do a ROYAL MESS and quite much got away with it bc there wasn't real consecuenses for his actions, I mean, if he can do that, are the stakes for Benophie no longer that big? if the queen is gonna forvige anything you do no matter how big and scandalous then what would stop them?

to see my thoughts on the Kanthony comment anon, see my previous post.

I'd like to like to point out that Netflix isn't known for staying faithful to the source material anyway, so they can make up as many stakes as they want for the Benophie season. It's what they did for the Kanthony season and what I fully expect them to do for the Polin season. As in, dramatize as much as possible the consequences of them being together as an excuse for having the couple share very little screen time.

Maybe this time, instead of Sophie just being illegitimate and a maid, the show will dramatize Araminta's accusation of Theving as big as possible. So now, the problem isn't that Benedict is marrying a commoner, it's that he's contemplating marrying a thief running from *puts on reading glasses* Araminta and the queen?

Maybe Sophie stole something from the queen. Yeah. that would raise the stakes.

But don't worry, even if she's illegitimate, or a commoner, or a thief, or murdered Cavander on her way out. We can always count on Queen C handing out royal pardons like they're nothing. But only after the couple suffers quite a lot for the viewers entertainment and pleasure.

Who knows, maybe for the Benophie season, it will be the king handing out the royal pardon in one of his moments of lucidity. Maybe she's discovered to be the illegitimate child of one of his beloved female relatives who disappeared for some mysterious reason. And Ben and Sophie can now live happily ever after with cero consequences for their shenanigans.

Lets admit it, we all want our main characters to be happy no matter into how much trouble they get. I don't see the problem with having the queen as basically a magic fairy that waves away everything bad at the end of the season. I try not to think about it too much because I understand that Bridgerton only has so much ammount of screentime to resolve a plotline before a small plot hole becomes a storyline error.

If my favorite characters actually suffered consequences, then Bridgerton would be *shudders* realistic...

Which is something nobody wants to see in the show where women wear plastic tiaras and 21st century makeup to a regency ball. Does it bother me a little bit that Eloise could rock up to a neighborhood even her servants were afrid of, wearing her gucci best without consequences? yes it does. But that situation also bothers me in the Titanic, where rose and jack dance among the commoners without a care of the fact that Rose wealthy outfit is attracting stares. That doesn't make me enjoy the Titanic any less.

Does it bother me that Thomas got away with ruining Hanna and Colin's wedding at the last minute when he declared his love for Hanna in Made of Honor? Well, yes, a little bit, if the movie had been made for realistic purposes, Thomas would have paid Colin and his family all they invested in that wedding that never was. I mean, come on, if the guy spoke up sooner Colin and Hanna could have gotten the venue deposit back (were venue deposits still a thing in 2008?). That doesn't mean I don't enjoy and laugh at Patric Dempsey every single time he tries to pull off some mad scheme to get Hanna's attention.

That sentiment also applies to Edwina and Anthony's wedding. And I really hope that off camera Anthony offered to pay the queen back all she invested in the cake, the venue, the caterers and the music. But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the fact that Kate and Anthony got away with things scot free, since I as the viewer want to see the happy ending anyway, even if the plot device used to get the happy ending is flimsy and poorly executed, as it was with Queen Charlotte's royal 'they can do whatever they want because they are inlove' decree.

If I wanted realism I would be watching the news. Now bring back the days where Marvel Superheroes didn't die please. I miss black widow. Not every screenwriter needs to be George RR I-kill-you-faves-for-shock-value Martin (JK, we love you GRRM, please finish Winds of WInter)

My point is, don't let stuff like that ruin your enjoyment of a show that's perfectly good on its own. Bad writing and all, Bridgerton is fun to watch.

And that's the tea

#bridgerton #stakes #and shock value #bold of you to assume I want my shows to have stakes #no #the more unrealistic the better the writing gets #at least when it comes to romance #not when it comes to riverdale

[gaycey-sketchit]

OOOOOH SHIP ASK GAME oakshipping, assuming this one hasn't been sent to you yet lol- but if it has, how about appeal?

I'll answer both!! I ship both of these!!

Oak:

What made you ship it?

I took an interest in their dynamic around 2021, because their contrast is so fun. It was @essence0fsilence who really sold me on the ship though, when I stumbled upon their fic Secrets Kept and curiosity led me to read it. I can pinpoint the exact moment in this fic where the ship really took hold of my heart (it was in chapter 12) and as you can see, I kind of lost my mind about it.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Gary and Tracey are such good foils to each other--there's a fun contrast between them, but they also have quite a few things in common. I think that helps with how they have the potential to bring out the best in each other, and how their influence on each other could help them grow as people--Gary inspiring more confidence and boldness in Tracey, and Tracey in turn bringing out a gentler side of Gary.

And I've talked about this before, but I love how flexible the dynamic of how they get together is depending on how much tension and drama you want in the narrative--it can be a very smooth and natural friends to lovers transition, or you can use the riskiness of it being a workplace romance with higher stakes because they both live there, and have them both acutely aware of how much they stand to lose if they pursue a relationship and things end badly somewhere down the line. The latter also gives you the opportunity to show Gary's growth as a person from someone pretty self-centered to really seeing how much Tracey in particular would be risking (because while Gary was born into his place in Pallet and the Oak residence, Tracey had to work for his place there, and who even knows if he has another home to go back to) and putting that over his own feelings. I primarily lean towards low-stakes fluff, but when I write them pre-relationship you'll still see me lean into that sometimes, and have Gary putting the choice in Tracey's hands because he's aware that Tracey is risking more.

Also on a less deep note, coming from writing ships where I had to come up with a Reason for the characters to be in the same place or do exercises in Implications for how they even know each other in the first place, writing this ship is like a million times easier. They literally live under the same roof. Gary comes home sometimes, Professor Oak leaves sometimes and I can use that if I want the boys to have some alone time, or the boys can be taking a research trip together or something. It's so easy! And then I can just focus on the stuff I want to write!!

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

There's like 12 people who ship it and most of us do because of each other, so I don't think popular/unpopular opinions for it really exist dftdh.

Appeal:

What made you ship it?

I am a sucker for rivals in love, and Dawn and Zoey are so cute. What's not to like about them?

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Rivals to lovers is a consistent banger, and while I love the banter and tension in Pallet and Contest as much as the next guy with taste, it's a nice change of pace that Zoey is at most just kind of blunt and doesn't even use the facade of antagonism to hide that she cares about Dawn and wants to help her improve.

Also fuck yeah lesbians

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I can't think of anything! I'm a very casual AppealShipper and the fanworks I've seen for them are consistently just Good.

#andrew answers #anonymous #oakshipping #appealshipping

[k-dokja]

hello !! can i have 🧡🎁❣💓🎇🌻👁😎 for vivi and mitsuki ? (i love my affiliate girls sm)

EMOJI MEME | Vivi & Mitsuki

🧡 How do they confess that they like someone?

Vivi's honestly pretty straightforward about it once she notices that you might like her back too. Given the chance, she'd probably try to drop it super casually, hoping to not make things awkward between the two of you. Yeah, she likes you but she also likes you as a friend. The idea of losing your friendship because of her romantic feeling is horrible to her. She'd detest it.

Though... there's no saying she won't be weird about it if you turned her down and continue to be friends.

🎁 What gift would they get their s/o?

Anything you want! You'll get it! She's not really in any shortage of money, you just need to show interest and she might (definitely) get it for you. She errs more on the side of fun and hobby gifts, something really personalized. Like if you're into gaming, she will get you a new set-up, a new chair, or maybe even a new console.

Whatever it is, it will have a huge Vivi logo slapped on. You know, just staking a claim and everything.

❣️ What makes them blush/gets their heart pounding?

She gets this weird little fuzzy feeling when you smile at her sincerely. It's just that she received a lot of pampering from people around her all the time. The niceness of another is nothing she's unfamiliar with. But the genuine flavour of it... she just doesn't really know how to deal with it, just make her all warm and blushy.

Even innocuous actions like holding her hand and giving her a squeezing hug make her heart race. Just give her those honest and sincere affections, she loves it!

💓 How do they act when they realize they’re in love/have a crush?

Scream it out in her pillow and get super giddy about it until she realizes that the crush needs to be two ways for this to work. Usually, she tries to keep mum about it but she's horrible at secrets. You will notice her intentional stare at you immediately.

She spends a humongous amount of time around you afterwards. If you don't notice it then, you must be blind or awfully oblivious because she has spelt it out so clearly for you. Do you even want her to say it, too? You're lucky you're so cute.

🎇 Are the feelings they have like a whirlwind or are they able to keep it under control?

Definitely a whirlwind. She won't be able to hide it when she realizes her feelings for you is what it is. It'd not be long before you notice that she has grown to be kinder and sweeter to you. Might even weird you out with how eccentric and entitled she often acts, but it does show her favouritism for you.

And if she's jealous, everybody will feel it. The entire room will feel it. Maybe you will feel it but based on how you're acting, you need to take a better hint!

🌻 Will they do anything for their s/o? Will the crocodile tears win them over or are they stubborn about not giving in?

Bold of you to assume she won't use the crocodile tears back on you. She grew up spoiled, you bet your pretty behind that she has employed this trick more than once on her dad. It always works, too! Anything for his little princess.

Because of that, you turning this trick on her won't work. However, if you ask her nicely about it and maybe bribe her with a promise of affection or two, maybe she'll think about it. Just maybe. (Yes, you will most definitely get what you want, just shower her with compliments later)

👁 What’s their favourite part of their s/o?

In terms of personality, she'd like somebody who's sincere and open about their feelings. It'd probably help if you are a good friend to her. She likes that she can always either have fun or relax around you. She loves that sense of safety and comfort she gets from you.

She's also... one of those people who will literally fall for a smile and a random act of kindness so take that as you will.

😎 How do they impress their s/o?

By getting you to have as much fun with her as possible. There's no point in it if the two of you aren't having a good time. She wants you to associate her with positivity, which means you'll always get giddy to meet her. If you don't know about her drug business, she'd actually try to keep you steering clear of that altogether.

Her idea of fun is mostly dragging you on exciting adventures with her. She'd love to go to places where the two of you can do a lot of activities and take a bunch of pictures together. Although... don't let her drag you shopping, you'll either become a valet or her new favourite doll as she makes you change in and out of like 50 outfits.

🧡 How do they confess that they like someone?

There's like, a fifty percent of chance that the moment Mitsuki knows her attraction to you is romantic, she will immediately tell you about it. However, if you showed to be less inclined to that approach, she will try to get closer to you and get to know you better before confessing.

Her feelings likely won't change during that time, but she does like the more easygoing friendship the two of you developed at that point.

🎁 What gift would they get their s/o?

She likes getting you gifts that you can get a lot of occasions to use. Mostly practical, day-to-day things like your favourite cologne or an accessory that can match your work attire. She gives a lot of thought to your preference in picking the gift for you.

It's the look of delight on your face when you received the gift that makes her the happiest. If you pointed out how she had picked the exact thing you like, she might smother you with kisses.

❣️ What makes them blush/gets their heart pounding?

She's not easy to fluster, to be honest. Not a lot can faze her, and usually, anything too risque makes her deadpan instead of blushing. However, small, gentle acts of chivalry can make her a bit giddy. Like when you help her put on her heels or when you wash her hair after a long day at work.

She has no love for the grandiose displays of love. Most of the time, she finds them ridiculous and showy. Unless you're trying to sell her something, she'd prefer the quieter intimacy. Small kisses on the back of her hand, her palm, or her fingers can fluster her much more than a garden full of roses.

💓 How do they act when they realize they’re in love/have a crush?

A bit confused, if anything. Romantic love is not something she comes across often. When it does come to her, she gets confused immensely. She doesn't like it when she gets mushy feelings. It compromises her calculative mindset.

However, if she can see that her feelings for you won't hamper any of her plans, she'd be far more interested in pursuing you. In fact, by then, there's not a lot stopping her from going after you. She'd be pretty straightforward about it, too. You'd have to be really overlooking her to not notice her intention.

🎇 Are the feelings they have like a whirlwind or are they able to keep it under control?

It's a hit-or-miss. If the feeling isn't reciprocated, she will have a much harder time keeping it under control due to her incessant need to stay in charge. However, once you show any sign of returning her feeling, she will manage it much better.

She's more subdued and demure around you, but only to you. Anyone else can go burst for all she cares.

🌻 Will they do anything for their s/o? Will the crocodile tears win them over or are they stubborn about not giving in?

Ugh, yes, don't even need to burst out crocodile tears, just give her a name and that person will be dead soon as possible. She's not shy about her devotion to you, long as you show the same in return. Although... it's a give-and-take relationship, everything she's willing to give, you should be prepared to give in return to.

She's not one without expectation and to have her entirety, her demands can get pretty high. She won't ask for anything out of your capability, but she won't hold back from asking for extreme deeds either.

👁 What’s their favourite part of their s/o?

On the innocent side, she likes how resilient and caring you are. Genuine and honest kindness is not something she comes across often. Seeing somebody so readily give their all for the sake of others makes her quite shaken and enraptured.

Outside of that, she also loves sincerity and the goodness of heart. It's not something she has of her own, so she feels oddly drawn to it by the nature of opposite attracts. She gets really soft when you do things for her without asking for anything in return, it makes her really believe that your feeling for her is true and pure.

😎 How do they impress their s/o?

You'd be surprised by how much she knows about you once the two of you are together. She keeps track of your preferences and often has better memorization of your schedule than you do. It's not... exactly controlling, not in her mind, anyway.

From how she rationalizes it, she just cares a lot and wants your life to stay on the path. Honestly, if you ever forgot anything, just ask her about it and she will immediately bring it up like it's something you mentioned yesterday. She takes pride in knowing you better than anyone, that's how she stays a permanent fixture in your life.

#vivi lookism #vivi x reader #soma mitsuki #soma mitsuki x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #headcanons #emoji meme

[house-of-slayterr]

Watchmen Incorrect Quotes:

@rorschach-thumbtack

Fang , at an awards show: Well, first of all, I’d like to thank Rorschach, the love of my life, for telling me Thumbtack was going to win so don’t bother to prepare a speech.

Rorschach: What’s it like being tall?

Rorschach: Is it nice?

Rorschach: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Thumbtack : We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Fang : It was one time!

Rorschach: I have locked Thumbtack in a cage designed by their own art. Oh, they have been well and truly hoist by their own petard.

Fang : Could you put it another way? I didn’t understand a word of that.

Rorschach: I’m blackmailing them.

Fang : Oh, happy days.

Dan : Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Silk !

Thumbtack : So Silk knows about this?

Dan , walking away: No, this is between me and me!

Dan : The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it.

Fang : Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side.

Rorschach: YO SOCRATES! IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE!

Fang : Silk, get that hidious thing out of the living room, would you?

Silk: Dan , Fang wants you to get out of the house.

Fang : What are you getting Thumbtack for the holidays?

Dan : I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your partner when they already got everything they could've ever wanted when they married you. So I'm not sure yet.

Ozymandias : I'm getting Thumbtack a divorce lawyer.

Fang : You know guys, sometimes I feel like Ozymandias doesn't take me seriously enough.

Thumbtack : "Sometimes"?

Dan : "Enough"?

Fang :

Dan : Change that to 'at all' and we'll talk.

Fang : For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Rorschach , Thumbtack , & Ozymandias : Okay.

Fang : If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Rorschach : Bold of you to assume I have money.

Thumbtack : Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Ozymandias : Bold of you to assume I can die.

Silk : What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

Ozymandias : Fucking Fang and Thumbtack were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

*Casually in the Middle of a High Stakes/Dangerous Situation*

Fang : How do you eat pickles?

Thumbtack : What do you mean?

Fang : I mean, there's a whole process. It's not like you can grab them from the jar with your hand, because it's cold and the juice burns if you have a cut, plus, it's pretty unsanitary. And you can't use a spoon because you'll have to scoop it out, and it'll be way too difficult to grab more than three or four without taking 10 minutes along with half the brine in the jar, even if it's one with holes.

Thumbtack : Yeah, that's why you use a fork.

Fang : Okay, sure, but what if you don't have one of the big ones clean? It's weird to use a small one. But there is always one of those smaller sharp knives clean.

Thumbtack : But the straight edge doesn't really fit the cylindrical shape, and you have to make sure you don' t break it, it's too much work.

Fang : It makes me feel like I deserve the pickles though. Like, "Yeah, I did it. That's right. Good job me." It's empowering. But even after that, it's not like you can use a bowl.

Thumbtack : I get that, it's not ascetically pleasing.

Fang : Exactly! And it looks weird if you don't entirely fill the bowl, but you also can't eat that many. My solution: Use a mug.

Thumbtack : *Nods in agreement*

Ozymandias : That is all very interesting, BUT WE'RE TRYING NOT TO DIE RIGHT NOW! USE YOUR LIMITED ATTENTION SPANS AND FOCUS!

Fang : Jeez, okay.

Thumbtack : Quit yelling at us already.

Thumbtack : Are you reading fan fiction?

Fang , reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No.

Thumbtack : Oh, is it on AO3?

Fang : This is CNN.

Fang : Thumbtack , I beg of you. Please, PLEASE go to the doctor.

Thumbtack : Hey, I'm sorry. Is this OUR stab wound?

Dan : *seductively takes off glasses*

Dan : Wow...

Silk : *blushes* Haha... what?

Dan : You're really fucking blurry.

Rorschach : Dan and I are so close we even share a toothbrush.

Dan : We what?

Fang : Pfft, you should meet Comedian , they're such a tsundere.

Thumbtack : They... they just stabbed you.

Fang : So cute.

Thumbtack : Isn't it weird that people kill mosquitoes just because they're annoying?

Fang : Damn, if people did that to each other, Comedian would've killed me years ago.

Ozymandius : We’re kind of missing something guys.

Comedian : Cohesion?

Rorschach : Teamwork?

Dan : A general sense of what we’re doing?

Thumbtack : And Fang is not here.

Comedian : Oh, and that, yeah.

Comedian : If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.

Comedian : Violently practices.

Fang : Violently studies.

Thumbtack : Violently sleeps.

Dan : Violently shoots pictures.

Ozymandius : Violently boxes.

Rorschach : Violently murders people.

Thumbtack : Violently worries about the previous statement.

An: all of these are accurate, change my mind!

#rorschach x reader #rorschach #walter kovacs #the watchmen #inccorect quotes #nite owl ii #silk spectre ii #ozymandias #the comedian

[hotdamnhunnam]

🎰🔪🧨 with Charlie himself. 🤞🏻

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

..................................................

Slut Machine

Pairing: Charlie Hunnam x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, Vegas shenanigans Word Count: ~1.5k Emoji Prompt: 🎰🔪🧨 (key words are in bold)

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

… Whose voice is that? Your senses are too hazy yet to process who it was or what he said. You blink your bleary eyes and wake up in an… unfamiliar bed. The sheets are a ridiculous resplendent red—must be a love motel or some shit—there’s a story as to how you ended up here but you find you can’t remember any of it. Sleep was so deep that you feel as if you’re waking from the dead.

When your eyes finally flutter open everything comes flooding back. You’re here in bed with Charlie Motherfucking Hunnam and the sight of his blue gaze and bright white grin gives you a goddamn heart attack.

You cover your face with your hands and groan out loud at just how mortified you are. Recalling how you’d made a clown out of yourself last night when you bumped into this million-dollar movie star. Literally bumped into him—till yesterday you never even knew him—you had just been crushing hard on him for years but he was always a completely unattainable celebrity. A girls’ trip brought you to Sin City; you and your besties were hopping casually from bar to bar, when you had stumbled clumsily straight into Charlie as he stepped out of his car.

You’d simply scurried off in that instant ‘cause he was too damn beautiful in person and your ass was terrified. But then bumped into him again soon after you both got inside. This time you had a full martini glass in hand and spilled its contents all across his shirt and thought you ought to help the man get dried. Decided then you really shouldn’t try to run away and hide.

You’d grabbed a bunch of napkins, dabbing at his chest and abs through the damp fabric as you nervously apologized for what happened. Your spastic wiping motions all across his chiseled muscles weren’t exactly very helpful with the spilled drink situation, as your brain cells were all absent in the face of heaven’s most stunning creation. Charlie said some shit about how bumping into you a second time wasn’t an accident. You were too hypnotized with lust to understand just what he meant.

He joked that you could make it up to him by winning him a jackpot at the slot machines. You told him shyly that the whole gambling thing isn’t quite your scene. Although he didn’t want to pressure you he asked you to indulge him in a night of fun—all kinds of shit you’d never done—let him take you out around Vegas to the wildest places you had never been.

It didn’t make sense that you felt so safe with him but hell you did. You were still sober by the time Charlie was coming onto you and all your girlfriends chanted do it do it do it! And the craziest night of your life began before you even knew it. Took you to his favorite high-stakes casino—then to seats in the front row at a big AEW Dynamite show—and then to some intense axe-throwing place that also offered knives and ninja stars and other shit to throw.

The best part of the night though… was of course when Charlie claimed you as his dirty little ho. The memory of it is vivid as you look up at him now and find that both of you are still stuck in the most mind-blowing afterglow.

***************

“No way that was your first fucking time throwing knives?!” Charlie shakes his blonde head in defeat as he walks you back out to the sweet car he drives. “Bitch I swear you’ve been doing this shit your whole life.”

You slide into the passenger seat while erupting in laughter. He’s so fucking butthurt that your aim was better than his because he’s a competitive smug little bastard. “Well I am an assassin specifically hired to take out insanely attractive actors… but I can assure you that wasn’t a factor.”

He closes the driver’s side door, turns the keys and the engine ignites in a smooth thrumming roar. “And by ‘take out’ you mean…?”

“It’s cute of you to ask but dinner and a movie isn’t really the assassin scene.”

He chuckles playfully as he speeds down the street, the night alive with white hot heat, the lights of Vegas bright as ever as the night deepens. “You gonna kill me in my sleep, then?”

“That’d be making it too easy.”

“Babe, don’t tease me. We both know you make it hard.”

Okay so he just pulled that card.

Fight off the burning urge to stare down at his crotch—no doubt the car would crash then if you saw what you’re imagining and know you’d be unable to resist the urge to touch…

You’ve never wanted anyone or anything in all your life so fucking much.

The sudden tension in the air leads him to smooth back his slicked hair, facing the road with a restrained stare. He’s been picking up on signals all night long but doesn’t dare to just assume you want to go there. Tries to come off calm and cool although there’s nothing he wants more. “So, uh—should I just drive you back to your hotel or…?”

The voice that comes out of your mouth is one you barely even recognize. It takes both you and Charlie by surprise, the way your inner slut replies: “That’d be a fucking bore. You know I’d much rather you take me back to yours… so you can fuck me like a filthy little whore.”

***************

The swanky penthouse suite in the five-star hotel where Charlie came to stay… it’s a ten-minute drive away.

That’s way too far needless to say.

He needs you right this second, after what you’d gone and said—although the backseat of his car is a fine spot for a good wrecking, there are fifty shades of shit he’d rather do with you spread in the comfort of a big sumptuous bed.

Thankfully there is an extremely tacky-looking love motel just down the road. And it’s the perfect place for you two to check in and let your passions for each other just explode.

It turns out this particular motel has a requirement for guests to stay the night that just might pose a bit of trouble: lovebirds have to pass through the adjoining chapel first and be a lawfully wedded couple.

So you stand uncomfortably at the reception desk and bite your tongue. Happen to know that Charlie tied the knot in Vegas once when he was young; you’ve heard about it in some interviews. You’re sure that he’d have no desire to repeat that same mistake tonight with you.

But this has been a night of wild crazy shit and he’s on fire to continue.

Mostly it’s just that he really needs his dick in you… but there’s a spark that he can feel might someday blossom into something more and he just hopes that you can feel it too.

***************

Of course you do. The ceremony is a joke but you’re both giddy as if it’s real by the time you’ve seen it through. There’s just no hope of sanity and self-control between you two.

You’re in a fluffy white confection of a wedding gown that this establishment provided for the night. You look like a big puff of cotton fucking candy and he wants to take a bite. So much about this night seems wrong, but when the heat between the racing of your heartbeats is so strong, it can’t feel anything but right.

Once you’re at last inside your room he throws you down onto the bed and dives headfirst into your gown, and goes to town, taking you high until you die as he goes down.

The dress is so damn big, that you can’t see his flawless face, let alone his glorious dick, and that’s a royal fucking waste. You need to see and touch and taste.

He knows exactly what you need and ravenously rips the poufy fabric off of you. His pearly smile and the bristles of his beard are gleaming with your pussy juices as he climbs on top of you. You long to tell him just how bad you want to blow him—want to tell him that you love him even though you barely know him—it would be fucking insane to say I love you, but of course you can still show him.

Yet he wants to consummate this marriage first, before he lets you satisfy your thirst. You’ll have a lifetime’s worth of days and nights to suck on his big dick if you decide to stay with him and make him yours.

That’s everything you want of course.

This whirlwind of a night that started with a stupid joke about hitting the jackpot at the slot machines… turned into you being his motherfucking wife, after the wildest and best night of your motherfucking life. And now he’s here on top of you about to fuck you and it’s totally outrageously obscene.

You wouldn’t have it any other way ‘cause you know you were put on earth to serve as Charlie Hunnam’s dirty little slut machine.

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

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[brownandblackpearls]

🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.3

PART 3 SUMMARY:

You’re given a lackluster tour of Dracula’s castle that adds more questions than it answers, yet your quarters are beyond admirable and enough to forget the mysteries for just tonight. His ice is slowly melting, but not enough for you to see anything certain. To help speed things along, you decide to be a friendly guest and cook breakfast for the both of you.

─── Alucard x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.

☾ previous. ☾ next.

┌───────────━┿──┿━──────────┐

└───────────━┿──┿━──────────┘

Your host is as gracious as the circumstances allow, you begin to realize. As immense and as glorious as the few parts of the castle you’ve seen are, your host confides that they were once even grander. He speaks briefly of there being a battle of sorts. He doesn’t say when or why, despite prodding, but it helps to fill in some of the gaps you have.

Spying some of the deeper gouges and gashes in the tough stone, you can’t help but wonder exactly what he was battling.

“You won the battle, then...?” You ask.

“Something like that,” he says simply enough, but it reads rather ominously to your ears.

You pause as you follow him, trying your best not to sound too afraid. You hope no enemies from this past battle still sneak about...

“So it’s just you and I, here…?”

He turns on you slowly, and a familiar dread rises in your gut as you realize you’ve angered him once again. Unfortunately for you, you’re not sure how. His features appear natural and still, but what you are feeling under your skin hints at the truth to his demeanor. You catch a hint of fang as he speaks, and you wonder if it’s intentional.

“Yes. Does that suit your plans?”

You hesitate, unsure.

“I…’plans’? I don’t—“

“—Allow me to assist you. Silver is a trifle. Stakes are laughable. Garlic does nothing, and no holy symbol nor water—no matter what wayward priest you find to bless it—will help your cause. Sunlight is a pleasure to my skin, which heals from fire, knife wounds, and all other maladies in conception, if you even manage to pierce it. If a Belmont had trouble making me bleed, you surely will. The few things that I am susceptible to, are magic, decapitation, and stakes, but then again, who isn’t? I implore you to try though, and wish you luck. Believe me, you will need it.”

Like before, as if you’ve been transported back behind the walls of books, he is upon you, and you cannot help but tremble. The ruby red is back, flickering just behind his sunstorm eyes. You are beside yourself but you do your best to think quickly as to what nonexistent offense he’s percieved.

‘Does he think I mean to kill him? How even could he assume such a thing…? From me, of all people...?’

“I do not wish to make an attempt on your life,” you say slowly, clearly. “My magic is very poor, but not my behavior towards hosts kind enough to allow me in their homes.” You put a heavy emphasis on the ‘host’ portion, hoping to remind him of his promise from before.

“Enlighten me then,” he asks in a tone that seeks anything but enlightenment. “Why do you want to know if we are alone, if not to better plan something that would require isolation?”

You find yourself frowning.

“You…you completely misunderstand me, sir…” you begin, stepping back. “I just…I asked if we were alone because….I…I…”

Something in your face must call out to his reason, because the red drains out from his eyes and he steps away, reeling back. The grieved look returns.

“You’re afraid,” he realizes suddenly, aloud. “You want to ensure nothing else lurks in these walls.”

You nod, happy to be comprehended, for once.

“Yes,” you insist. “The damage from the battle...I see it, and I think that your foes were very strong. I only hope they were all defeated and that it is just you and I here, alone, sir—er, Alucard.”

He nods, looking somewhat embarrassed now.

“It is only us, in these walls.”

You sigh happily, glad to have your fears discarded. The castle was still scary and intimidating of course, as large as it was. It felt as though something had to be tiptoeing somewhere around in the fortress, yet...he would know the place better than you, wouldn’t he...? And if he says its just you two, then hopefully that is so.

“Good,” you sigh. 

He makes no move at the sound of his name in your mouth, but he does think on your words before bowing his head ever so lightly.

“I apologize,” he admits. “I keep...jumping to conclusions. I made you fret after giving my word. Forgive me.”

You watch him with pleasant surprise, the corner of your mouth quirking up. 

So there were manners somewhere in there.

“You’re forgiven. I’m sure you must have had a rough go of assassins, being who you are and all.”

“I’ve had my share,” he admits, before turning to advance through the corridor. You don’t have time to think about his ‘share’, trying to keep up. You know he can move far faster than he is showing now, and you appreciate the effort he makes to go at a human pace so that you may follow closely behind. 

Deep down, you are still worried about what lays in the castle. You do feel safer, knowing something supernatural like him is at your side, and vowed to make sure no harm befalls you.

“Well,” you continue conversationally, trailing after him, “thank you for soothing my concerns. I feel all the safer for it.””

“...Odd,” he comments. “Hm?”

“You, feeling safer alone in Dracula’s castle, with a dhampir.”

You chuckle.

“I suppose it is odd when you put it that way. Just work on that temper of yours, and I’ll really be right as rain!” The jest is funny enough for you, but it doesn’t land so well with your present company.

He scowls, but the real heat is gone. Energized from knowing he is bound by promise and that there are no others here, you feel bold enough to place an assuring hand on his arm. 

He feels strong and solid, like stone. He stiffens before pulling away, peering down at you.

You try your best not to look too hurt. You smile assuringly instead.

“Believe me, Alucard. I’m not here to try and do you in. I mean, look at me! You think I’m foolish enough to attempt such a thing on you when I could hardly handle that crowd of ruffians outside?”

You laugh then, slapping a hand on your leg. It is the bare one from the rip in your dress, and the smack is much louder than you anticipate. It’s enough to silence you into meek embarrassment.

Alucard simply watches you before turning around and leading you on.

You follow him silently now, and you quickly find that the tour is rather lacking. He says little about the winding halls you are led through, and you can’t help but wonder the stories of each hallway, of each room. Will you ever learn of them?

The place is monstrous, and so the soles of your feet are a bit sore by the time you reach what Alucard regards as your quarters.

“You will stay here,” he gestures past a large emblemed door into a wide room. 

You peer inside, finding a beautifully canopied bed, heavy curtains attached to what you can only assume is a gigantic window. There is a large bookcase, a fireplace, an armchair, a desk, and a small door leading into another room. 

“That is your bathing room,” he notes.

When you stare at him curiously, he explains.

“My father possessed immense technological advancements,” he says quickly, as if he’s explained it several times before. Perhaps he has.

‘So his father is Dracula,’ you think. ‘But the stories of Dracula were much more…gruesome and cruel. If this is his son...this man is certainly scary when roused, but…’

His deep voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“The washing room has a basin called a ‘tub’. There is also a bidet with a smaller basin called a toilet. No need for outhouses or bringing up jugs of water here. We have plumbing.”

Now, you’re utterly confused.

Alucard sighs.

“Just…follow me. I’ll show you.”

You do just that and watch, engrossed, as your host thoroughly lays out and points to every faucet, knob, and all of their uses. Before long, you ascend from a common traveling woman to an expert in an alternate world knowledgeable on things such as ‘plumbing’.

You beam at the tub and sink, too giddy with joy to hide it. You bounce a little, your hands drawing to your chest excitedly.

Alucard levels a raised brow at you, pausing.

“...Are you alright?”

You nod happily, twirling in the bathroom to face him.

“This place is incredible! Plumbing! Who would’ve thought? There was almost something like this I saw over the Eastern seas, but the people there called them…acq..acqueducts! They were these large beams that delivered their water…oh, but no matter! My hair! Goodness, it will be leagues easier…”

Alucard glances at your crown of curled, kinky locks before refocusing on you.

“How did you manage, before?”

“Oh, ponds. Streams. Rivers. The seaside. That sort of thing,” you say absently. “The chill of the water did wonders for my mane, but I felt like an icicle the entire time. And you say I can have heated, freshwater through these devices? I can’t lie, I’m ecstatic!”

Alucard nods shortly at that, watching you curiously, but seemingly unable to share your interest in the fixtures. Perhaps you’re more of an interest for him at this point than the plumbing. You eyeball his own healthy mane and assume he’s long been used to such luxuries.

“Oh, but…can I wash my garbs in the tub, too?”

Alucard tilts his head at that before realization sparks in his eyes.

“No. No, you’ll wear something else. That’s fairly ruined.”

You silently leave out the part that it is partially his fault, but he seems to catch on anyway.

“I…” he tries stiffly. “I apologize again. For before.”

“Oh?” You respond innocently. “For what? Scaring me? Yelling at me? Threatening my life? Tripping me?”

He sinks a little lower with each act. 

“All of it.”

“Oh! Well, then you’re forgiven. As much as I appreciate the apology, I have a feeling that this ‘tub’ will more than make up for it.”

Alucard seems to relax at that, showing you the cabinets with everything you’ll need.

“I’ll…” he trails off. “I’ll find you some clothing.”

He turns to leave, but you reach out to gently grip the tuft of white blouse peeking out from his sleeve. He turns, watching you sharply. 

He does not pull away, though. You call it progress.

“Alucard,” you say. “Thank you for your hospitality. Sincerely.”

He looks to the floor instead of your eyes—as if he’s afraid of what he’ll find there—before gently pulling away and wordlessly leaving the room.

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

You are lucky enough to find interesting soaps and good-smelling candles before working the bath. With some maneuvering and much delight, you are able to conjure bubbles through use of items you’ve scavenged from the cabinets. You find washcloths, sponges, brushes, and an assortment of other things.

You want to wait for your host to return first, but as the minutes continue to pass you realize you need to take advantage of the hot water before it cools.

You shed your clothes, undo your hair, and step into the water-filled basin.

“God…” you whisper, goosebumps rising on your skin.

It feels incredible.

You sink into the water, a smile on your face. You haven’t felt something this good since traveling to hot springs in your more daring adventures. Back then, you had to evade the cultist locals for a hint of heated water. This was so different, as it was your own personal hot spring whenever you desired!

You sink deeper into the water for a bit before beginning to scrub and lather your journey off of you. You decide to empty and fill the tub once more, just because you can, and bathe a little more before feeling pristine to your liking.

Stepping out, you massage in some leftover body oil from your pack. You clean the basin before peeking out into your room.

There is no one present, but a new, soft nightdress lays comfortably on the chair. Your fireplace is even lit.

You smile to yourself as you step out and lift the nightdress, assessing it.

“So his bark is louder than his bite,” you decide aloud.

You change swiftly, and despite being in such an strange situation, once in the massive bed, you find sleep has come right on your heels. Your eyes almost slide shut until you hear a knock at your door.

You open your eyes and slip out of bed. You push open your door—which has a heavy lock, you now realize—to see Alucard, in low lantern light, gazing back at you.

“I trust you found everything,” he says, rather than asks. You hear the question for what it is.

“Yes,” you smile. “Thank you.”

He considers your expression for a long moment before nodding his affirmation.

“Hm. Very well. There is a lock on the door of your room…if that’s any consolation to any fears you may have. Feel free to use it. Good night then,” he says, turning to leave.

“Alucard?” You call.

When he waits for you without turning to face you, you speak.

“Where will you be staying?”

‘If I need you,’ you think. 

You soon realize that this may become a situation where Alucard hears something in your speech that is not really there. With a solemn look, and the absence of an anger just as disturbing as its presence, he points to a door just down the hall from you. You would be pleased if not for the expression on his face.

“Just there,” he says. 

You realize that due to the two misunderstandings being him assuming you want to kill him, that this is likely what this third time revolves around. 

“Alucard,” you try, “I don’t intend to condescend, but you must know, I only ask for my own concern. I’m happier to know that my host is nearby. I meant no ill will by it. I’d be a poor assassin, remember?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, as if he really is just recalling it. “I remember.”

“You’d hear me before I even entered, I bet!”

“I would.”

“So there is nothing to worry about…right…?”

His stiff shoulders finally seem to relax an inch. 

“I suppose. In any case…You are not to enter my domain, under any circumstances, outside of imminent danger. It would be…unwise of you.”

You nod, unsure of what exactly he means but positive he that he does mean what he says.

“I will see you in the morning...?” 

He pauses at that, looking somewhat bewildered. 

“I…yes, you will.”

“Alright!” You nod, pleased. “Good night then.”

Closing the door, you turn to the large, firelit room and beam.

It is a princess’s quarters…no, a queen’s! You will live lavish while you’re here, it seems.

You lay on the soft mattress under the thick covers, knowing pleasure you’ve never felt before until sleep takes you gently into the night.

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When you wake, it is before the sun has fully broken into the sky. Pretty blues and pinks spill across the sky outside your window, so different from the cold colors of the day before. Rising in your nightgown, you spy a dress on the chair of your room. Alucard must have entered in your sleep. Had you locked the door...? You cannot recall. Under normal circumstances, traveling on the road, you would have never forgotten such a thing as utilizing a lock. For some reason, perhaps last night you felt you didn’t need to. 

You absently palm your neck for pinpricks of the vampiric sort, and find nothing.

‘Good enough for me, then.’

The dress lays before you, waiting

It is different, without any tears, and deep in its color. You pause before adorning it, turning this way and that in the looking glass before attempting to do something with your hair. 

‘I look rather stunning in this. Why does he have such nice women's clothing lying about, I wonder...?’

Once complete, you decide to do something as equally nice for your host as this dress was for you.

“Breakfast! I’ll make us breakfast. Dhampirs can eat food, right…? Now, if only I could find the kitchen…”

You spy your basket by the door. Another gift from your late-night visitor.

You pick up your newly returned basket from the room’s entrance, flipping over the blanket to spy your stolen vegetables still intact. 

You leave your rooms with a smile that slowly falls.

‘He said not to disturb him…perhaps I can find the kitchens myself? They must be on the first level, maybe the underground chambers, if anything. That’s how all castles are. I’d better start now if I hope to finish in time.’

You’re certain you will get lost, but you have a feeling that your host can easily find you again.

You pause, realizing something.

‘I hope I don’t find bottles of blood or something lying around…or something else’

On that sobering thought, you strap your dagger’s hilt tighter to your thigh. Alucard said you were both alone, but it couldn’t hurt to be vigilant.

You venture out and do your best to recreate the inverse of Alucard’s path to the great hall. After several turns and rerouting, you finally begin to recognize the way back to the grand hall. It takes far longer than you anticipated, and your soles begin to complain a little once you find the grand staircase.

With some exploration on the main floor, you finally come across a door leading into what appears to be a small kitchen. The floors are clean as are the pots and pans hanging from their hooks on the walls. You spy plenty of utensils, knives, and what appears to be another basin...plumbing. You will ask Alucard the name later.

You set down the basket, pleased to have reached your goal, and get to work.

“Can’t have just a vegetable scramble. He’s a literal dhampir, and I could use some protein.”

You can't find any aprons about, and so you wrap what looks to be a tablecloth around your pretty dress. No reason to ruin it with the trials of breakfast.

You hunt for eggs, meat, nuts, and anything of the protein type. After some pillaging, you are able to find all three and get to work. The eggs are small, and the meat is fox, rabbit, and fish instead of the typical villager fare of cows and pigs, but you make it work. You wash your hands and begin to carve out fillets, prep vegetables from your basket, and luck upon some spices. You search for oil, but can only find butter, and so you do your best with it.

Soon enough, the kitchen begins to fill with the scents and fumes of a bountiful breakfast. You plate the spiced eggs, the braised meat, the sautéed vegetables, and fill a pitcher with water. You think about finding the secret garden nearby once more to perhaps make juice from berries and fruits, or even preserve. Turning to the wood table, you set everything down before finding your final item.

The loaf of bread is well hidden, but not well enough. It is a little stale, but not enough to discourage. You claim it and cut it before setting it out on the table as well.

Turning to wash your hands one final time, you are unsurprised to find Alucard stalking in the doorway of the kitchen when you turn back around.

“What are you doing...?” he grouses, clearly just having recently awoken.

“Cooking us breakfast,” you sass, “you’re welcome, by the way. Oh, uh...you can eat food, right...?”

Alucard’s sleepy demeanor slowly fades as he nods, his interest growing as the smells of food clearly begin to assault him and cause wonders for his mood.

“Well?” You say, undoing the tablecloth-apron and taking a seat for yourself. “What are you waiting for? Sit with me, let’s eat!”

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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ previous. ☾ next. 

☾ check my blog for more imagines.

#imagine #castlevania x black!y/n #castlevania black y/n #castlevania x blackreader #castlevania x black y/n #castlevania y/n #castlevania x black!reader #castlevania black reader #castlevania x reader #castlevania imagine #alucard x black y/n #alucard x blackreader #alucard x black!reader #alucard tepes imagine #alucard imagine #adrian tepes imagine #adrian tepes #castlevania

[hazydaaze]

An analysis of the Bold Type that I need to get off my chest (it'll be worth it, I promise)

I studied English literature at university, and it has always been instinctive for me to analyse characters, storylines, bigger pictures and under the surface tensions in film & tv. Discussing emotions, motivations and themes with my gf and my pals late at night is one of my favourite pastimes ever and I love everything to do with filmography and art ahhhh. (I wrote my dissertation on David Bowie & The Artistry of Sexuality, ya feel me?)

The Bold Type isn't filmography at all, but I think Jane Sloan and Jacqueline Carlyle hit different for me, being a queer woman in my 20s and a full-time writer. I can't really explain why. I guess there are a lot of queer female characters in film & tv that don't really feel inherently queer, and even as two identifying straight women Jane and Jacqueline felt queer to me. Their connection and understanding of each other was authentic and quite complex. I think they had potential to be something that we'd never seen before in mainstream media, because of their age difference and life experiences. I thought that was so compelling and so important to talk about and to give a recognised space to.

There is one thing that struck me most about them and it's insane to me that I haven't seen a lot of analysis on it, so it's the point of this post.

To my knowledge the show or actors haven't delved too deeply into it either, and given what went down I don't understand why people AREN'T talking about it. I wanted to bring it up. Btw, this post contains spoilers.

***Sexual abuse trigger warning***

In season 1, we learn that Jacqueline is the victim of rape, and the only person she has told about it is her husband, Ian. Given that she mentions that they've been married for around 19 years and the assault happened before they met, we can assume Jacqueline has been carrying the weight of what happened to her for over two decades. During all that time she didn't talk about it with anyone else, not a single other person.

And then Tiny Jane comes along. Jane Sloan, the big swing writer who just wants to write meaningful stories that help other women and girls that need it, like she did growing up. She fucks up a lot on the way and slowly begins discarding her judgemental opinions as she grows. But when she is at her best she has genuine compassion and empathy for people, and despite her reservations, Jacqueline gives her the opportunity to write about the story of a rape survivor and performance artist. She isn't aware, at the time, what that means for her own trauma or her own acceptance of it. But she does it anyway, because she sees something in Jane and she has seen it there from the beginning.

Jane starts to write and, as we know, in the most beautiful and compelling moment at the season 1 finale, Jacqueline is confronted with what happened to her. She stands in Central Park holding these weights, and you can see the crushing pain in her eyes as the realisation descends down on her. She shares a look with Jane, and a moment of understanding passes between them at what this means.

Despite all this, she lets Jane capture her trauma. She lets her publish her untold experience of her rape from two decades gone. She lets millions of people see her story in writing, with Jane Sloan's name printed above it. She re-lives and faces up to the harsh reality of that pain and that truth, through Jane.

Can you even imagine the trust you must have in someone to do that? The sheer love that took, for Jacqueline to give Jane her voice and her truth, with all its painful and hard repercussions?

This storyline is the boldest part of the Bold Type. It's the most honest and the most authentic. It captures the raw emotion of Jacqueline, and of Jane, and the two characters really see each other for who they are. It's one of the reasons why their relationship is so central to the other's storyline.

We don't ever see Jane truly unpick in detail what Jacqueline did for her. It spoke so many volumes and ... well, isn't that what love is?

It's this storyline that sets the tone for their relationship over the course of the show. Jacqueline sacrifices herself for Jane again and again. She publishes the article about the lack of accessible healthcare at Safford and gets fired for doing so, purely so Jane can afford to freeze her eggs. Jacqueline says there were a lot of other things that contributed to it, but Jane knows her article was the final straw, the point of no return.

Over a decade of pouring everything she could give into Scarlet Magazine and it’s readers, only to be gone in a second. All for Jane.

And again, in season 4, in the few real moments we are given between them, one of their final interactions is Jacqueline giving Jane the go-ahead to explore a story of potential abuse at States & Nations, a company Ian is associated with. Ian literally asks Jacqueline to stop pursuing the story, due to the sexual relationship he had with the source when he and Jacqueline were separated. When Jane challenges Jacqueline over her reasoning for pulling the story, she asks her to give the story a chance. Jacqueline lets her, knowing full well that it could prove irreparably damaging to her marriage and her family, and she does it anyway.

Jacqueline chooses the truth, over her career and over her marriage. She chooses Jane. As humans, there isn't much more you can give to someone else. I’m wracking my brains trying to think of a way Jacqueline could portray her love for Jane more, and I’m all out of ideas.

I want to reiterate again how insane it is to me that none of this is really acknowledged, or at least not nearly as much as it should be amongst the show, its creators and its viewers, Jacqueline continually falls on her sword for Jane (weird analogy, but she does) and it is repeatedly glossed over. Their relationship is quickly dismissed as a "mother Jane never had" or a simple "boss/employee" power dynamic, and it seems so hollow, unjust and sorry - so unbelievably boring - in contrast to the experiences they have shared together and the sacrifices they have made.

I understand Jacqueline’s character was based on Cosmopolitan Editor in Chief, Joanna Coles, and therefore it makes sense that this queerness to her relationship with Jane was not intended. However, it’s there. Everything I mentioned in the post happened on the show in canon.

In 2021, the possibility that these two women could have romantic or sexual feelings towards each other shouldn't be a stretch. If either of these women were male characters with this much intertwined investment, high stakes and sacrifice, there would be no doubt they would be endgame. They would run away, have the hottest sex, all the while their reputations would be forever ruined in the name of love. And we, as viewers, would celebrate it without question - we would never dismiss it.

The concept of what they are, and what they can be as two women should be able to live and thrive. It should be given a beating heart. In the very least, the reality of it should be on the table and up for debate. But for many viewers, and the show’s creators, it just isn’t. And here lies the problem.

Jane and Jacqueline have such a beautiful dynamic, it is so deep and soul-wrenching. How can we ever limit what these two women are and what they would do for each other?

I really hope that one day we can see a relationship like theirs given the queer space it deserves. Because it would've been the bold thing (and the right thing) to do.

I'm going to publish a longer and more in-depth article about this on Medium, because as I said, analysing is my favourite pastime and I can't stop doing it. But for now, this is all I can manage.

Edit: Read my published Medium article.

Here's to Jane and Jacqueline and what could've been.

#jacqueline x jane #jane x jacqueline #janequeline #jacqueline carlyle #jane sloan #the bold type #the bold type review #the bold type edit #queer ships #otp

[honestgrins]

I have a prompt for you if you can. Not sure if you watch Legacies, there’s an episode where Lizzie makes a wish to a Jinn that Hope is never born. In this alternate universe, Lizzie won the Merge, Klaus flipped his switch 2 years ago in grief and started a war with the humans leading to Triad publicly hunting all supernaturals. Enemy #1 is Klaus and his vampire wife Caroline Mikaelson. I’d like to see a Klaroline fic of this AU please.

Prompt part 2. I have some personal thoughts on this alternative universe but itS totally up to you if you go with them or if you come up with your own. No Hope means no Hayley, means no Elijah dying. So why was Klaus grieving? No Hope means back in TVD S4 the witches had no way of luring him to NO so he stayed in MF eventually wearing Caroline down into a relationship. Josie and Lizzie were like his daughters and when they merged he and Caroline both flipped the switch in grief of Josie.

 Tears Will Never Dry (angsty)

“I failed them.” Her voice was so small and defeated. Curled up as she was in the armchair, Caroline looked blankly out the window. Though she had a perfect view of Bonnie talking through some witchy herbs with a despondent Lizzie out in the courtyard, her eyes didn’t seem to register. It was like she wasn’t even there.

Klaus, who once proudly professed he had no heart, felt something break inside him for he knew nothing could truly comfort her. He had failed her. So he offered what little he could, what he held onto when she was so far away. “You love them so completely, you could never fail them,” he vowed, and he’d never meant something so much. It took all his strength not to pull her into his arms, to close the distance she wrapped around herself so tightly. “You will help Lizzie through this, and—” The lump in his throat made it hard to speak, not that he could bring himself to say the name she cried in her sleep. “—you loved her to the end.”

Tears trickled down her crumpled face. “It’s not supposed to happen that way,” she croaked. “Mom and Dad loved me to the end, too. Their ends. Now, I have to live with her being gone. Forever.”

It used to be a promise between them, sweet and tempting; on her tongue, the word sounded sour. Helpless and desperate, Klaus kneeled  at her feet. He pressed his mouth to her knee, hands wrapped around her legs like a lifeline. “Tell me what I can do. Please, sweetheart. Let me help.”

Blinking down at him, she let her fingers card through his hair. Her smile was sad, apologetic. “It just hurts so much.”

And he knew it was too late.

The club was a dangerous idea. They were meant to be in hiding, and it defied sense to flaunt their return to New Orleans in a favorite haunt. But the girls were having fun, and Klaus was loathe to break up the party with sense.

He was tucked into the quietest corner of the VIP lounge, high above the din. Lizzie and Caroline, meanwhile, danced in the crush of the crowd, the pounding beat far too much for even a vampire’s ears. They laughed as they bumped into each other, and a smile curled his lips. It was good to be home.

Their little family was still grieving Josie’s loss after two years, each in their own way. Caroline preferred enjoying the lighter side of life, aided by a lack of human sensibilities. Lizzie alternated between reveling in her magic and loathing it for the too dear cost, just as she hated her mother for flipping the switch and loved having her as more of a friend. Klaus...

Klaus was just trying to keep the game interesting.

“Careful, friend,” Marcel warned, offering him a fresh drink as he dropped into the next chair. “Your humanity is showing.”

“She’s not paying me any mind, we can speak freely.” He turned to his old friend, a son that was lost and found, then lost and found again. How he wished he could grant such a miracle to Caroline. “Tell me about Triad.”

Clenching his glass, Marcel looked grim. “My nightwalkers keep disappearing, and even the ones with the GIft,” he murmured with laden meaning, since vampires had learned to hoard the secret of lapis lazuli and the safety it provided, “have mentioned being followed. Davina hasn’t risen far in the ranks of the organization yet, but she thinks a big move is in the works.”

He grit his teeth. “And?”

“The ‘vampire wife’ is whispered around the place. Often.”

It was a fight to loosen the tension in his body, but a necessary one. He raised a toast to Caroline, who tried to coax him out to the dance floor. He shook his head, charming enough so as not to rouse her suspicion. “I assume a kidnapping then.”

“At the least,” Marcel agreed. “Whether they want information from her or to use her against you, torture is to be expected. The switch might be a benefit to her if it comes to that—”

"It won't." His tone was final, even as he held his smirk. The ladies were too busy laughing off those bold men trying to dance with them to read him from afar. "She's been through enough."

Noticeably quiet, Marcel just sipped his drink.

“What, Marcellus?” Klaus bit out.

With a measured glance toward him, he shrugged. “The switch... She’s not really going through anything, and she hasn’t for years now. And thinking you’ve flipped yours, too? You’ve created a comfortable little world for her to avoid the pain, maintaining it to keep her safe without her knowing. What happens when the illusion shatters?”

He gave a careless flip of his hand. “She can’t turn it off twice.”

“If you say so.”

It wasn’t a new argument to Klaus, not when Stefan, Bonnie, Elijah — even Rebekah — had implored him to rethink his grand strategy for Caroline to party away the worst of her pain. At the very least, he could be honest about his own, relatively intact humanity. Instead, he let her enjoy the lighter side of life without tempting a worse outcome should she feel the need to punish him for trying to fix her. After all, she’d done much the same when her mother died.

The subterfuge was messy but necessary, especially with credible threats against her in this war the humans insist upon waging. His ear was attuned to the array of heartbeats throughout the club, the loud music not enough to dull his hybrid senses. Vampires had a slow, dull throb when compared to the hearty pound of a werewolf, not that they’d find themselves in the Abattoir without some pressing business that was sure to involve him. Same with the witches, and only Lizzie’s let out the fast-paced thrum of both full blood and magic.

Humans, though, they seemed to be threading in from the edges of the crowd — and aiming for the blondes at the center. Feeling the world slow around him, Klaus launched himself down from the balcony, mindless to the vampires hurrying to get everyone out of his way. None of them caught the true danger, however, until the strobe light caught on the wooden stakes being pulled from jackets.

Klaus managed to snap three necks before they got close, but Caroline was too busy blocking access to Lizzie to notice the woman stretching a strong arm toward her. Feeling like he was underwater, he watched as Lizzie’s fear overwhelmed her, and the hand grasped around her mother’s wrist glowed red. Pain seemed to lance through Caroline, and she lost her focus to fend off the attack she still hadn’t seen coming.

The familiar scent of her blood filled the air, and all Klaus could see was red.

Later, he would confirm that the scratch down Caroline’s back healed perfectly, that she’d survived the bold offensive he hadn’t stopped. Even later than that, he would acknowledge his plan had been far from perfect, without even the veneer of success to defend it when her humanity was eventually restored.

But in the moment, the thought of losing her to his own carelessness was too much. Clearly, holding onto his humanity wasn’t working the way he’d envisioned; in fact, his rage at the sight of a stake piercing her skin felt like a liability. He processed this in the span of a second, and by the time the human’s bloody head hit the dance floor, his decision had been made.

The world already saw him as a ruthless monster. He might as well give it to them, and he’d make them bleed for daring to harm her. He didn’t need his humanity for that.

With his fangs bared and blood dripping from his hand, he certainly looked the part. When Caroline met his eyes, however, something must have alerted her to the change. Having torn the stake from her back and moved Lizzie to the safe space between them, her head tilted to the side as she appraised him with a new appreciation. She gave a sharp grin of joy and arousal, her tongue slipping from beneath her fangs to wet the corner of her lips. “It’s about time.”

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #fic: tears will never dry #angsty #to rely on the kindness of strangers #lorelaipeyton

[shattersstar]

here r my jason headcanons abt his scars and general feelings about his appearance + how the reader deals with it

disclaimer: wrote these in my notes within half and hour and i’m tipsy but i hope u enjoy these thots

jason wasn’t overly aware of his appearance growing up, until he moved in with bruce. he was aware he was a bit rough around the edges, growing up as he did was direct influence of that, but it wasnt until he had to interact with high society he was made aware of how looks mattered. he didn’t get the same treatment as dick, maybe the novelty of bruce’s wards had worn off come the second robin, or maybe they all recognized a poorness in him that left his toothy grin a little smaller. he tried not to care but those things bite at the back of your mind and leave residual scars to trace in years to come.

and years later, he had come to hate his body. it was something mangled, mashed and stitched back together, barely holding itself together in the first few years after the pit. his autopsy scars stayed too, every injury from being robin, from his life on the streets healed into a nothing but those fucking scars stayed. they were a harsh reminder of how his life panned out and would follow him around till he died—again.

the distaste from the socialites he had nearly forgotten about seemed to burn through his veins each time he passed a mirror. as he grew and accumulated more wounds, ones that healed and others that didn’t, the more he stopped looking at himself. he wanted to feel the vanity others had thrusted upon him, wanted to relish in the sly glances he got as he aged into his (forever handsome) features, but all he felt was lies. They wouldn’t be as bold with their eyes if they knew about him, about what hid under the layers of clothes, what phantoms hung on his shoulders and the blood he washed away, that never truly left. He couldn’t find a rugged appreciation in the crooked bend of his nose of the scar that clung to his cheekbone, another slicing through his left brow bone.

he felt like he had grown into what he was always seen as, some rough kid from the streets of gotham. he didn’t hate looking mean, it had its advantages. he liked the surprised reactions he got from his apartment neighbours who assumed he was just some criminal kid trying to make his stake in the crime ridden city. but then he’d help them carry groceries, let them drop off their pets at his place when they went out of town for the weekend, helped esl kids with english homework when he had free time. part of him wished he didnt have to win over people to get him to accept and trust him but he understood nonetheless

that was until you showed up. you moved in across the hall and asked him the day you met to help you move the couch the movers put in the wrong spot. “if you’re busy its all good.” you added at the end with a shrug, likely due to his own stunned silence at your request. he agreed, pulling his key from the lock and spent the evening setting up your living room. you paid him in a beer your friend had given as a house warming gift and asked him about the floor. you were a bit nosy, a little gossipy but something about it felt sincere. just a genuine curiosity about the inner workings of the place he called home. actually—everything about you just felt sincere.

you were kind to him, treated him like a neighbour and not a cautionary tale and jesus that scared the shit outta him. you popped up in his life a few times after your first meeting, inviting him over when you made way too much food or asking him for a good grocery store nearby. it wasn’t until you knocked on his door, asking if he wanted to hang out—no conditions, no help or anything needed. “do you like movies?” you asked, swaying on the balls of your feet as jason stood in his doorway, it barely cracked open out of habit.

“as long as its not based on a book.” he replied, ignoring how dry his throat was.

“you’re a ‘book is better then an adaptation’ kinda guy huh?”

“because its true.”

“unless the book already sucks.” that made him chuckle.

“but yeah i like movies.”

“cool the things is—“

“u dont have a tv.”

“exactly, we can squish onto my bed or watch it at your place if you’re cool with that. can’t lie i am curious to see how you live.” you admitted, jokingly pushing yourself onto your tippy toes and pretending to peer over his shoulder.

“my place then.”

“tomorrow night?”

“tomorrow.”

it quickly became a weekly tradition, you’d bring popcorn and something you stressed baked and alternate between picking films. most were spent in his living room, but after a while you managed to get him back into your place. you did exactly what you said and squished into your bed, laptop balancing on your lap desk. jason was in his usual long sleeve and sweats. you were in a tshirt and pj shorts. it was summer and he knew you were going to ask. “you wanna go back to your place in change? its kinda warm and as much as i like you, i dunno how i’d feel about you overheating on me.”

despite your attempt at humor he muttered a quick, “i’m fine.”

you shrugged it off and jason should’ve known better. should’ve known you weren’t going to drop it, that wasnt how you worked. you were nosy and talkative and curious and pushy and caring and you hated the idea of a wall between you two. so when you slipped into his lap one day, some early 2000s romcom droning on behind you, he knew exactly what you were up too.

your knees dug into the side of his couch and your hands landed on his shoulders. “were friends right?” you asked, and something about how your nose bumped his felt anything but platonic.

“yeah.” he breathed, hyper aware of your thumb brushing against the collar of his shirt. one of his scars peaked through, and a jagged knife wound that left him half dead on a rooftop two years ago.

your thumb brushed it and his fingers clasped to your forearms in warning.

“this is why you’re always in sweaters right? what you’re trying to hide.” your eyes were fixed on it, still rubbing small circles against the skin around it. he didn’t say anything, you had were more observant than he gave you credit. “friends dont keep secrets jay.” you all but pouted at him, forehead resting against his.

“they’re...bad.” was all he could stress, eyes downcast to where your thighs met his.

“they’re apart of you which means they cant be bad. not to me.”

and it was like the hesitation in which people would approach him, the disgusted whispers about the newest wayne ward, the eyes that were fearful to meet his all vanished. all the left over pain and hate for his tired and broken body was put somewhere he couldnt reach even if just for this moment.

he still had a hard time looking in the mirror, wished his battered knuckles didn’t stand out so much when your fingers locked with his, wanted to kiss you without feeling the small scar from his  near constantly split lip, wanted to be able to wear the more revealing clothes you thought he’d look good in, and more. there were still things to want and wish and hate and push away. but there was also your voice now living in his mind whispering the words he hadn’t known he needed to hear since he was a kid.

#this honestly turned into a fic halfway through #but i’m still gonna call them headcanons bc y’know its messy #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #writing #me?? posting two works within a week??? unheard of #idk where this inspiration came from but i am thriving

[multi--kpop--fanfics]

Place Your Bets - Round One

FBI agent!Sehun x fem!reader x mafia boss!Kai

genre: suggestive

warnings: illegal activities, alcohol consumption, blackmailing, sexual tension, Sehun is about to throw hands

Summary: The game is on, the cards are out. Who wins the first round?

Author’s note: I apologize for taking so long to update the series, a lot happened in the meantime, thankfully, I finally found the chance to post this chapter😓. Hope you enjoy it <3

Taglist: @intokook @bluejaem @cyclothimikhh @kpop---scenarios @making-me-blush @geniusloey @kaexloey

Could not tag: @softstan-probably

“Shall we begin, gentlemen?”, you take you seat, smoothing over your dress and crossing your legs sensually. Sehun and Kai sit across each other, still glaring daggers to one another. “So, what do we play?”, Kai asks and the dealer starts dividing the poker chips to everyone.

“We’re going to play some good ol’ Texas Holdem. I assume you’re both familiar with the rules?”, you question. “Five cards are placed on the table, two are given to each player, the flop, the turn and the river, betting before each of the aformentioned and the strongest combo wins”, Sehun explains and you chuckle.

“My my, you’re well-versed for an agent, Sehun. I’m impressed”, you admit. “We all have our secrets, Y/N”, he retorts. God, I can’t wait to get my hands on him, you think. 

“The chips are divided and the cards are shuffled. We are ready to begin, milady”, the dealer announces. “Thank you sweetheart. You may give out the cards”, you say and the dealer nods. You receive your cards after Kai, in a clockwise way and you feel the adrenaline course through your veins as soon as the five cards are placed face down on the table and the familiar phrase rings in your ears.

“You may now place your bets”.

Kai smiles as he sees the cards in his hand and places 6 chips on the table. That’s 1500 dollars on the first bet. “You’re a bold one”, you comment and he snickers. “What’s the point of holding back when the stakes are so high?”, he asks rhetorically and you bite your lip while smirking. He’s an asshole, but a hot one. “Call”, you announce and place 6 chips from your side. “Your turn, Sehun”, Kai spits and Sehun sends a deadly glare to his enemy. He taps his lips with his pointer finger once, twice and he places another 6 chips on the table. “Call”.

“The flop”, the dealer says and opens the first three cards - 7 of diamonds, king of spades and queen of diamonds. Not the best of combos, but it’s manageable, if played well-

“Raise”, you hear Kai and your eyes widen at his new bet. 

20 chips.

“Are you fucking insane?”, Sehun growls and Kai scoffs while laughing. “I play first, so I get to do whatever the fuck I want. You just call or fold your cards”, he pauses for a second, “Unless you actually have the balls to raise the bet”, he adds. “Tsk, you and your fucking bloated ego...”, Sehun scoffs. “Gentlemen, let us enjoy the game”, you coo, while placing your 20 chips, “No need for hostility... It’s only the first round”, you smile.

“I don’t plan on losing all of my money from the first round, honey. I’m not insane like you. Fold”, Sehun replies and throws his cards on the table, thus forfeiting the round. “Aw, I wish you had stayed a bit longer with us”, you fake-pout and he scoffs. “I’m not done yet, sweetheart. Besides, you yourself said it’s just the first round, or am I wrong?”, he crosses his arms in front of him, making his broad shoulders more prominent. “Oh, but of course”, you add.

“The turn”, the dealer announces and opens the fourth card - ten of clubs.

Sehun watches you and Kai, the same devilish glint flashing through your eyes, as your gazes flick between your cards, the open ones and your chips. Kai plays with the chips in his hand and bites his lip. “You know Y/N, you can still back down and just take on my offer”, he proposes as he picks up a handful of chips, “We could be powerful together, ruling over the city..... All it takes, is to say the word”. He punctuates his last line by putting his bet on the table.

24 chips. That’s half of his total in.

“I admire your confidence, Kai. Not a lot of people are brave enough to risk half of their money on the first round with such high uncertainty”, you comment. “What makes you think there’s high uncertainty in the cards, baby?”, he flashes a sultry smile. “It’s the nature of gambling, baby”, you punctuate the pet name, a venomous undertone in your voice. “However, I can say one thing for sure” and you slam 24 chips on the table, startling the two men. 

“I have a shitton of confidence, too”.

“The river”, the dealer announces and open the fifth and last card - nine of hearts. 

This is it. The last betting round. You’re ready for everything, all possible outcomes. 

But you’re also not ready at all. And that makes your entire existence go into overdrive. You’re so close to winning and losing at the same time and this fact is enough to make wetness form between your lower lips, threatening to trail down your thighs. 

But you don’t care. You’re so lost in the pleasure this adrenaline rush has given that you miss Kai’s check. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”, Kai coos, “Do I need to remind you your surroundings?”, and he leans closer to you, “Although I might even make you forget your own name-”, “Don’t you fucking dare”, Sehun slams his fist on the table. “The game is not over, Kai, stay in your lane”, you deadpan and he sits back, hissing. 

“The betting rounds have ended. Showdown”, the dealer announces. “Ladies first”, Kai motions and you finally open your cards - eight of clubs and jack of hearts. “K-High Straight”, you announce and Kai laughs. “What’s so funny?”, Sehun spits. “Honestly?”, he removes his jacket and he is left only in his vest, showing off his toned, golden body. “I’m waiting to see the look on your annoying, pretty face”.

He throws his cards on the table, revealing an ace of diamonds and ten of hearts. “Ace-High Straight”, he smiles triumphantly. “The Ace-High Straight beats the K-High Straight. Thus, sir Kai wins this round”, the dealer announces and Kai collects the chips to his side. His eyes darken immediately as he watches Sehun clench his jaw tightly. “Not so satisfied now, are you, Sehun?”, he muses and turns to look at you, licking his lips viciously. “Just one more round and I’ll ravish you, sweetheart”.

“Well done, Kai. You won fair and square”, you comment.

“But nothing has been decided yet”.

#place your bets series #exo kai #exo sehun #kim jongin #oh sehun #exo fanfics #exo series #exo

[doctorthreephds]

Synapses: Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 3.9k

TW: Nothing, just a boat load of information about toxicology.

Summary: After landing a job at the Bureau, you tell your dad and in turn end up meeting all of his coworkers. In celebration, your dad invites all of them to a pasta night at his house. There, you find a burning interest in the youngest of his team. 

Masterlist

“Well, if you have no further questions for us then I would like to personally welcome you to the Scientific Response and Analysis Unit,” you watch as Director Chase stands and sticks his hand out to shake, one that you take eagerly at the news of your new job.

“Thank you, sir. I look forward to working with you,” a smile stretches across your face as you bid the director goodbye and quickly make your way through the sterile hallways, inhaling the smell of cleanliness that was now your new workplace. For some, the sterile smell is foreign and dangerous--usually an indicator of a hospital where only bad news lurks--but for you, it was a safe haven of information waiting to be uncovered. 

The daughter of a diplomat and a criminal profiler, you were certain in your passion to help people and make the world a better place. Of course, a big government job was a bonus in your quest but proved to be the right path as you found your love of science and forensics. You had attended school in both France and D.C. where your mother frequented and often lived with your dad when in D.C. to spend time with him. Of course, David Rossi was almost always busy so your relationship was nothing like the one you had with your mother. Unfortunately, during your second year of college, tragedy struck. Your mother passed after an extensive battle with breast cancer and so you did the only thing you could do, cling to your father as your only lifeline. 

After many years of rebuilding what was once a lost relationship, your father was everything to you and wanted to see you succeed. Which is exactly why you chose not to tell him about the interview until after you got the job. 

The heels of your shoes gently clack against the tile flooring as you step out of the elevator and onto the floor where the BAU stands. It’s bustling, as always, but you make your way through the glass doors and to his office. You can feel eyes on you, the eyes of your father’s coworkers who had no knowledge of your existence. It was easy to be a well-kept secret, you had your mother’s maiden name, and you knew that your father was a pretty private person. 

Gently knocking on his door, you stick your head into the room to see your dad sifting through stacks of paperwork and manila folders. 

“Hi, Dad,” you walk into the room, watching as he stands and stretches his arms out for a hug.

“Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing here?” he asks and pulls you into a tight hug, the smell of his expensive Italian cologne engulfing your senses. 

“I’ve come to tell you some news,” a bright smile sits on your face as waves of confusion ripple over your father’s face. You try not to laugh as fear furrows on his brow. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” he mutters and you shake your head.

“You’re not a grandfather just yet,” reaching back, you pull out the newly printed badge that displays your picture on it. “I have a new job.”

His frown lifts from his face as the joy overtakes it and you are once again trapped in his warm embrace. Your body melts into his this time, the overwhelming feeling of joy staking claim in your body. It was almost foreign after the last couple years that you had.  

“Oh, I’m so proud of you,” your arms wrap around his torso, deeply inhaling as you feel at home. “But I can’t believe you kept this from me. You should have told me, you would have been hired last week.”

“That is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” your laugh rings out as movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. You turn to look out the glass window and see a few of his coworkers watching the two of you talking. They try not to look so suspicious, turning away to look at their computers and case files.  

“I think you have some explaining to do,” you gesture to the small crown that has amassed.

“Huh. Well, they had to find out some day,” he walks out of the room and you follow, a cold sweat overtaking your body. It’s not like he was ashamed of you, he loved you very much, you simply craved the validation of the work-family that he cared deeply about. 

Your eyes scan over the four people, attempting to make some connections in your brain to names that your father has mentioned in passing. As you look, your eyes are drawn to a tall lanky man with a lovely maroon sweater vest. His hair is a mess on top of his head, full of unruly curls, and you attempt to restrain your heart as it seems to skip a beat. Usually, you weren’t this easy, but there was something about him that made all your thoughts vanish for a moment.

“She looks a little young to be your fourth wife, Rossi,” a man, whom you assume is Derek Morgan from the brashness of his comment, states.

“This is my daughter,” your father turns to look at you, a look of pride in his eyes that warms your heart and reassures you. You turn to the crowd and tell them your name, watching the look of bewilderment melt away.

“How come you never turned up on the database?” a blond woman asks. She’s easily identified as Penelope Garcia, by the boldness of her clothing and her affinity for computers. It makes you smile to see another woman in a male-dominated area. 

“That’s because I have my mom’s maiden name, Montgomery.”

“Let me introduce you all,” Rossi starts and turns to the group. “This is Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid.”

“Wait a second,” Emily starts. “Montgomery? Like the diplomat?”

You nod as you feel your chest tighten at the memory of your mother. 

“I think I remember you in passing, our mothers worked together.” she adds.

“Probably. Although I couldn’t tell you if we met in D.C. or Paris, my memories of the two are severely mixed up,” you respond, watching the dark-haired woman’s eyes light up in recognition.

“She’s here because she just informed me of her new job at the Bureau. A hell of a secret to keep from your old man,” your dad speaks and you roll your eyes at his insinuation. 

“Of course I couldn’t tell you. I wanted this job on my own merit, not because my father pulled some strings.”

“I know how that feels,” Emily perks up and the two of you laugh in the shared feeling of what is both the blessing and curse of networking. You didn’t want to find out what kind of impression getting a job because your father would leave on your peers and coworkers. 

“What do you do?” Derek asks and for a second you watch Spencer perk up behind his friends.

“I’m a toxicologist, I was just hired at the Scientific Response and Analysis Unit,” a brief moment of confusion passes over everyone’s faces except Spencer’s which makes you smile. “I’m basically a glorified chemist with a Ph.D. in toxicology. I’ll probably end up helping you guys out on anything related to biological or chemical that is threatening in nature.”

“Ph.D.? Don’t you have a Ph.D. in chemistry, too, Reid?” Derek pipes up.

“In chemistry, mathematics, and engineering,” he states like muscle memory. Your eyes brighten up at the presence of a fellow scholar and smile at him.

“That’s incredible. And how old are you?” you ask in astonishment.

“Twenty-six. I’ll be twenty-seven in October.”

“Huh,” you turn to your dad. “I didn’t know you had coworkers that were so cool, dad. You’ve been holding out on me.”

You turn back to Spencer.

“You’ll have to send me over your research, I would love something new to read.”

A look of astonishment washes over his face at the thought of sharing his research with someone. You assume that no one has ever asked to read it before, it’s not often in this line of work that research--especially scientific in nature--is brought up. Your father clears his throat beside you to draw your attention away from Spencer.

“Why don’t we have dinner at my house tonight to celebrate your new job?” he asks. “Everyone is invited, gives me an excuse to bring out the good wine.”

“You have a wine cellar, you can bring out the good wine whenever you want,” you quip and roll your eyes. He just wanted an excuse to show off.

“But I save it, for special occasions like this,” he gently hugs you from the side as everyone seems to agree on a pasta celebration in your father’s large house. “Good, I’ll go tell Hotch.”

You watch your father walk back up the steps and stand for a moment in awe as he leaves you behind with four of his coworkers that you barely know. The social anxiety sets in for a moment and leaves you slightly short of breath but years of practice help you plaster on a smile. 

“I’ll leave you four to work, I’m sure you’re busy. It was nice meeting all of you.”

“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Penelope responds as the rest of them bid you goodbye and return to the hefty workloads sitting on their desks. As you turn to leave, you barely miss the gentle punch laid on Spencer’s arm by Derek as he watches you leave. 

“I’m so happy to meet you,” she starts as the two of you walk past the glass doors. “I can’t wait to get to know you better. You know us girls in the sciences have to stick together, so just know that you always have a friend in my little office full of screens.”

She gives you a warm hug as your heart fills with the validation you had been craving for so long. Walking into the elevator, your eyes flick to the doors behind her that let you see into the office, hoping for a glimpse of the nerdy doctor before the silver doors close in front of you. With a bit of luck, you see the familiar maroon sweater vest pass by just as the mechanical doors shut. 

After going back to your apartment and changing into something a little more fit for a party, you find yourself dropping by a bakery to pick up a few pastries for everyone. Standing in line and staring at the glass case full of desserts you can barely pronounce, the thought of Spencer drifts into your mind. What kind of desserts does he like? Would he want something more tart like an apple strudel or something sweeter like an eclair? Once you reach the counter, you settle on a fancy pre-made cake so that you don’t spend the rest of the night pondering the doctor’s taste in dessert.

Driving to your dad’s house with a careful hand on the cake, you make sure to arrive at least a good 20 minutes before everyone to help cook. It was the least you could do and you wanted to make a good impression, especially because it meant time spent with your father. 

“Hey, dad, I brought cake,” you call out as you let yourself in, finding your way to the kitchen to see your father hard at work. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he mutters and leans down to place a kiss on your head as the two of you watch the spaghetti boil in the pot.

“Carbonara?” you ask as a sly smile forms on his face. 

“Of course. Who do you think I am?” he reaches over and stirs the noodles. You glance over to the counter to see a very neat mise en place set out. 

“Shall I pick out the wine for tonight then?” you push yourself gently off the side of the marble countertops as you giddily look to the doorway leading down to the cellar.

“Only if you pick the right one. The Pinot Grigio on the third rack is from France, I’ve been saving it for a special occasion and this is the perfect time for it.” he pauses briefly. “Your mother gave it to me. She would have been so proud of you.” 

You inhale deeply and wrap your arms around your father, tears welling in your eyes. While your parents had not been married for long, you know they were great friends and companions for one another, always dedicated to their jobs. Your mother raised you well. 

“We’ll toast to her tonight then,” you mutter and smile up at your father, your vision blurred from the tears as the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it.”

Walking over to the door, you pull it open to see Spencer and Derek standing there.

“Did you carpool here?” you ask and let them in, helping grab their coats to place on the hanger. 

“Yep, because Spencer here can’t drive,” Derek says.

“It’s not that I can’t drive, it’s that I prefer not to. On average, there are 3,287 deaths related to car crashes globally,” he states and you let out a nervous laugh.

“That’s a lovely statistic to keep in mind. Perhaps I’ll sleep here tonight,” you close the door behind them and walk over to the kitchen. “You can head into the kitchen, my dad’s just finishing up. I’m gonna go grab the wine.”

“Hey, Reid, why don’t you go with her?” Derek suggests.

“Oh, that’s okay--”

“Sure! I’d enjoy the company. C’mon,” you blurt out and wave him over, making your way over to the door and down the stairs. You silently contemplate things to say, something interesting to make you look smart or anything that will make this small trip a little less awkward. Glancing over, you can tell he’s on the same boat from the hesitancy of his steps so you resort to something a little less high stakes. 

“I hope you like sweets because I brought cake,” you state as you sift through the wine, glancing over to Spencer to see him awkwardly standing near you. 

“I think I’d much prefer the cake over the wine,” he says and you smile, turning to look at him curiously.

“Not a wine guy?”

“Not a fan of alcohol. It’s both addictive and a depressant. I think I’ll take my chances on sugar. It, while much more addictive, is less likely to kill you in high doses,” the words rush out of his mouth quickly, almost as if the information is overflowing and held back by a broken dam. A small laugh bubbles out from your chest.

“You're marvel, you know that?” you ask as the bottle of wine is held by the neck in your hands. “I wish I had a fraction of the knowledge you store up there. You’re like a walking computer! Would have made writing and researching my dissertation much easier.”

Spencer only stares in shock for a moment as the two of you begin walking up the stairs.

“What did you write your dissertation on?” he asks curiously.

“The Toxicological Aspects of Drug Incorporation into Human Hair. Unfortunately we don’t see a lot of interesting poisons out there, drugs are the biggest poison right now so it was fun to take human hair and analyze it to help predict how long addicts are abusing drugs,” you explain, watching Spencer go a little pale before the two of you reach the kitchen. Looking up at the gathered group, you plaster a smile at the small family that your father has amassed. 

“You’ve brought the wine, you’re a goddess,” Penelope walks over and grabs the wine from you as she wraps her arm around in a side hug. You laugh and hug her back, allowing her to take the wine over to your father who opens the bottle and begins to pour out portions. 

As you all gather around the table, you sit in between your father and Spencer who was obviously forced into his seat by Derek after a bit of teasing. You didn’t mind, it just meant you could continue your conversation. Next to Spencer was Derek and then Penelope, Hotch, JJ, and Emily. 

After you all settle, your father stands and brings his glass up in a toast.

“I would like to make a toast to my wonderful daughter who has finally joined us at the Bureau in a job that will hopefully make our lives easier. And to her mother who raised an amazing woman,” everyone at the table, sans Spencer, raises their glass and takes a small sip. “Now, let’s dig in.”

You twist your fork in the large plate of carbonara and smile as you take a bite, humming with satisfaction as you quickly eat the pasta. It’s familiar, the comfort food you often had in college whenever you came over to your dad’s house to tell him about school. The pasta was a symbol of family and what was once only a meal for two was now a meal for a whole group of people as intended. 

“So, you spent time in France? Does that mean you’re bilingual?” Emily asks as she takes a pause to sip from her wine glass. 

“Trilingual, actually. I took it upon myself to learn Italian for my dad, even though he doesn’t know it. Just helped me connect with him a little better when I was away for so long. It’s a bit rusty though, I’m out of practice because I’ve spent so much time in D.C. for school.”

“What school did you go to?” Derek asks.

“I got my bachelors at Georgetown in chemistry and my Ph.D. in Forensic Toxicology at NYU. I’m a bit of a science history buff so when I found out that the first forensic medicine department was created in NYU by Charles Norris and Alexander Gettler, I thought it would be the perfect place to get my degree,” when you finish talking, you look up to see most of the table staring in a sort of awe and confusion. The only person that does not look remotely confused is Spencer who even perks up.

“I did a little bit of reading about Charles Norris and Alexander Gettler, but nothing too extensive. There’s not a lot of concise information about them, but Gettler’s research and data on the different effects of poisons is really fascinating. Did you know that he was one of the first people who helped develop a scale for different levels of intoxication by alcohol?” he states, almost forgetting about the food in front of him.

“Oh yeah, it’s the coolest. Especially during the prohibition when different people were dying left and right from alcohol poisoning. Deborah Blum talks all about it in her book The Poisoner’s Handbook, I’ll have to lend it to you some time,” the two of you turn to face each other as you continue talking. “I thought it was so astounding when people drank even more during the prohibition and the government didn’t think it was a bad idea.”

“Well, yeah, the basis of reverse psychology,” Spencer remarks and you laugh. As the two of you pause for a moment, your cheeks redden as you feel the eyes of the whole room settle on the two of you who were lost in passionate conversation. 

“Nerds,” your dad mutters as he takes another bite of his pasta. 

“Hey, you made me this way,” you roll your eyes and shake your head, turning to return to your meal.

“I believe it was your mother who had custody over you for most of the time, so technically this is her fault,” he states and regular conversation begins once again between the rest of the group, but you feel Spencer gently nudge you and whisper. 

“I would love to get some book recommendations from you. Perhaps you can point me toward some of the better toxicology books,” he suggests in a low voice as you finish up your pasta.

“The key is looking in the true crime sections, they hide there sometimes,” you turn and smile up at him, enjoying the way that his curly hair falls and frames his face or the way that his eyes crinkle when he smiles. It doesn’t look like he smiles nearly as often as he should. 

You attempt to hide the overwhelming feeling of joy that bubbles up in your chest as everyone finishes their meals. Getting up, you walk to the fridge and bring the cake over with smaller plates. 

“Just a little dessert that I picked up on my way here. I hope everyone likes cake,” you smile up at them and begin cutting into the chocolate tower.

“Who doesn’t like cake?” Penelope asks.

“Actually, studies have shown that 46% of people prefer pie over cake,” Spencer states and you laugh as you hand him the first slice.

“I think it’s safe to assume you prefer cake, though,” you tell him and try not to think about your heart beating out of your chest when your hands touch. It feels stupid, acting like such a teenager at the slightest touch and you try not to let your cheeks show how much you enjoyed it.

Conversation continues as the cake is passed out and everyone attempts to wean off the alcohol they have consumed tonight. For a moment, you sit back and look at everyone gathered as they talk about life outside of work and how everyone is doing. Henry, JJ’s son is getting bigger now that he’s a couple months old and Penelope’s still doing well with her boyfriend. Emily is thinking about adopting a cat and Hotch misses Jack but is doing the best he can. You take a moment to look at your dad who stares at his coworkers the same way that he looks at you, like they’re his family. 

After a while, JJ informs everyone that she has to go home to see Henry off to bed and Hotch is close behind with it being a work day tomorrow. Slowly, people funnel out and you see all of them out, including Spencer, who doesn’t stop talking to you about breadcrumbs of science history and the modern day use of toxicology. After getting his phone number for book recommendations, you wave at him as he leaves with Derek. You find your way back to the kitchen and see your dad cleaning up.

“You look very comfortable with Spencer,” your father looks up at you as he washes the dishes. You shake your head as you pick up a dish towel.

“It’s just nice to have someone to talk to about science, you know? No one else really understands it,” you say as you wipe down the dishes he hands to you.

“I know, sweetheart,” he places a kiss atop your head and you smile, silently planning out a secret future with Spencer. It would be nice to have someone new after losing your mother. 

After all the dishes are put away, you take your phone out and find Spencer’s contact.

‘Want to go to the bookstore this weekend?’

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #david rossi #derek morgan #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

[secret-engima]

spideypoolalways

Does Regis ever ask how Titus has papers for the boys? Whats Cor or Clarus' PoV of this? What are some things (fluff or humor) that the boys get up to? Because I can see them getting adopted into the Ulric Clan because of shenanigans and Nyx going 'Yes, these are my people' since LCs just remind me of Ulrics with magic. And how do the Galatians take to the nephew of the Nif Chancellor and clone of the Crown Prince? Since I'm imagining that Titus told some of them and the

spideypoolalways

rest are guessing anyway. And does everyone assume that Noctis and Nox's magics resonated since they're kinda sorta close to each other/are the same person? How does Regis take the news that the only reason that Noctis got healed is because Nox pretty much felt everything Noctis did? /Both/ of his sons were basically attacked by a daemon and he only knew about one of them at the time and didn't do anything to calm or reassure Nox? (Clarus: Only because you didn't know

spideypoolalways

About him, Regis. Regis: Thats no excuse, Clarus.) Does Iris get to be a Shield or did Nox latch onto Axis or one of his kids? Does Acastus find Prompting and drop him off with Noct/Cor? Does Nox hang out with Noct, Ignis, Gladiolus and Prom all the time or does the memories act up enough to make him feel weird about it? How does Regis take his brother and son's Sick Days? What about Dissidia? The 3 youngest Royals getting snatched and the group watching on Crystal

spideypoolalways

Vision? Dad Titus/Regis freaking out over their kids having been summoned to a death match? And how exactly does Titus see the boys? Sons, brothers, cousins? Oooh, more Trauma. Noct, Nox and Acastus w/others playing and end up in the Crystal room. Cue the boys lighting up, maybe passing out because the magic hits their young system really hard (its why Royals aren't supposed to be Presented until 18) and everyone freaks out, and news makes it to Regis and Titus that they

spideypoolalways

Are in the infirmary and the gist of what happened via panicked guards and rush there immediately and are jumped by panicked kids talking and crying about what happened. I didn't realize I had so many questions. But now I need to know. 👀👀 Please!🙏

spideypoolalways

Oh! Just remembered a little more! Does anyone pick up on the people/places that he shouldn't know? Do they assume that Nox got some of it from Noct, like with the Marelith? Or are they assuming LC/ Oracle DNA mix?

Me: Yes, Regis asks about the papers and Titus doesn’t OUTRIGHT admit he did an illegal but he does grudgingly explain that he needed papers in case the NIfs came looking and he ... knows ... a few people who can help ... “recreate” papers for refugees who lost theirs in whatever fire or tragedy drove them from their homes.

Regis mulls over that for ten long seconds then blatantly pretends he never heard it in the first place. Those “people” likely saved the life of his son and half-brother, he can let it slide this once.

I need Nyx Ulric to adopt these two now JUST so Nyx can tease that he’s related to Captain (then later when he learns that they’re Lucis Caelums he can quietly die in a corner because OH NO HE’S RELATED TO THE KING). Not sure how or when Nyx adopts them, but he absolutely does.

It probably happens when he's just a wee bit sloshed. Not enough to be incoherent or insincere, but enough that he doesn’t feel any fear offering to adopt the pair while babysitting them because Captain had to work late and Nyx is off the combat roster until his ankle heals. Once he’s sober he is a Panic™, but Captain takes it surprisingly well and Nox loves his new braid. Acastus just looks Amused™.

Lib slaps Nyx over the head because IDIOT THINK THIS STUFF THROUGH then gives him another drink because TWO MORE ULRICS. It’s a good thing Nyx is an Ulric Keeper in this AU, because he can teach them most of the Ulric Clan stories and dances and make them proper Ulrics.

Acastus loves introducing himself as Acastus Ulric Drautos, both because it’s fancy like “Lucis Caelum” is and also because it made both Titus and Nyx spit their coffee the first time they hear it.

The Galahdians ... have mixed feelings at first. But the predominant one is that it doesn’t matter that this kid is clearly related to the Chancellor (at first they all think the Chancellor bedded Captain’s Aunt, since they don’t know about the LC blood, and that’s why he looks like Ardyn) because Captain has clearly staked a claim on him. Galahd (in my HCs) is a Very Adoption Heavy culture and big on judging people by their current family rather than any previous blood ties, so ... mostly the Chancellor thing gets intensely ignored. Acastus isn’t an Izunia, he’s a Drautos (and then later an Ulric). So they will treat him as such.

But in private there is some debate on exactly what happened, for the Chancellor to vanish around the time his ... relation (son? They mostly assume son), shows up in Drautos’s care.

No few number of them think Titus stumbled on Ardyn with the two kids and killed the Chancellor to save them.

For Nox ... the Lucis Caelum blood is basically impossible to hide. This boy LOOKS like a literal carbon copy of the Prince but younger and he’s young so his control over his magic is ... not. Not that good. Especially not when there’s so mUCH of it.

All of Galahd listened to the Glaive who was on babysitting duty when Nox had a rare tantrum and skewered the wall with ghostly blades and all privately, immediately agree to Never Tell Anyone. Ever.

Well. To be fair, they do debate whether they have a duty to tell Regis, but again the Adoption Culture comes into play and they decide it’s up to Titus to spill that secret. A few Glaives do ask Titus about it (Titus nearly has a heart attack because SINCE WHEN DID THEY KNOW) and when they ask if they know who the mother was, Titus looks very grim and very, very quiet for a long time, then admits:

There is no mother. There never was.

They stare at him in confusion until Acastus, lurking nearby with too-sharp eyes, gives a smile that could cut and says brittlely that “amazing things that can be done with science these days you know. Truly amazing. Why, get a blood sample and a tank of the right solutions and you could probably grow anything you wanted”.

The Glaives are Horrified™. So is the rest of Little Galahd when it gets around and then is made a Clan Secret by all the Clans unanimously. The secret never leaves the borders of their little slum.

Also yes, people assume that Noctis’s and Nox’s magic resonated because Nox is a clone and it freaks them out.

Regis is Such A Guilt when he finds out how Acastus knew about Noctis’s injury. No it doesn’t matter that he DIDN’T KNOW NOX EXISTED. One of his son’s (his FIVE YEAR OLD son) was suffering. Was screaming in agony and terror and Regis didn’t do a THING about it and no amount of logic can make that better.

Nox latches onto Axis’s triplets in this AU so while Iris will be best friends with him, his Shield, Hand, and Sword are actually all made up of Axis’s three kids. Axis is a BIT of an internal Scream when Nox is at the age people start making noises about him building a Retinue and taking Iris as his Shield and Nox goes, “NO. I have a Shield already! A Hand and Sword too!” And stuff spirals out to reveal Axis as Clarus’s kid (Clarus takes it much better than Axis thought he would, tho Axis didn’t expect to see Lord Amicitia go deathly pale and sit down hard in the nearest chair).

Honestly Iris might be the future love interest in this AU you never know. It would be hilarious if nothing else.

Bold of you to assume Acastus didn’t find Prompto early and bring him home to NOX because “Look Beloved Nibling I Found You A Friend!”. Prompto is a confusion because Nox is like- 4 at the time. But Prompto likes babysitting and playing with Nox and hearing Acastus’s stories and Titus just kinda- sighs his way through the playdates until he realizes that Prompto has been staying in his house for about two weeks with no sign of the parents.

Titus, after much snooping later, sitting at the kitchen table of Grandma Ostium quietly pulling his hair out: HOW DO YOU ADOPT A THIRD CHILD. DOES IT COUNT AS KIDNAPPING IF THEY COME OVER AND STAY WITH YOU FOREVER AND THE LEGAL PARENTS NEVER NOTICE. ACASTUS WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME.

Acastus: I regret nothing. Do you want me to fake Prompto’s death? I’m sure there’s enough Prompto’s out there that nobody will notice if you gain a nephew called Prompto Drautos.

Titus, holding his face in his hands while Grandma Ostium laughs at him in the corner: NO, ACASTUS. DO NOT FAKE THE DEATH OF THE CHILD. How do you even know how to do that? Nevermind I don’t want to know.

Roughly a year later when Everything Gets Revealed, Titus and Cor: *intense staring contest over Smol Blond Child*

Cor: You don’t know where he-

Titus, growling like a cranky Behemoth that might very well bite off someone’s head: He’s a Niflheim created clone. I know.

Cor: ....

Titus: He's been living in my house for a year. I’ve seen the barcode. It’s not like I wasn’t raising one already.

Cor: His legal parents-

Titus: Is me. The Argentums were emotionally neglectful and didn’t even notice when he hadn’t come home for a week and a half.

Cor: *guilty angry silence*

Titus: ...Kid could use an uncle. If you want to man up and be part of his life.

(hgfhg this is post is getting long Imma try to speed through the last questions a bit)

Yes, Nox hangs out with the Chocobros when he can because he adores them (especially Brother Prompto and Team Mom Iggy) but he also has his own friend group in the Little Galahd community so it doesn’t strike anyone as odd really. Nox is a naturally loving child for all he’s shy and Iggy and Gladio are Noctis’s friends and Prompto is his adopted brother (and later Noctis’s best friend).

Regis does Not take the Sick Days well. It makes him alarmed and angry because Lucis Caelums aren’t supposed to get sick days from their own magic and it speaks of BAD THINGS that both of the presumably experimented on and tortured LCs have them.

I’m going to have to come back to Dissidia another time (someone remind me) because this post is too long to ramble here but it would be- it would be Great. Honestly. It would either be the 3 littlest, just Acastus, or just Acastus and REGIS for some brotherly bonding and any of them would be Great and Chaotic. Crystal-o-vision absolutely happens.

The Crystal Room is under 24 hour guard so I don’t think the kids could wander in by accident, plus Acastus would actively avoid the area because of his Trauma.

Now Acastus being presented when he turns 18 on the other hand... >:))))))

Short Version: Much shouting, much alarm, much angst from Regis and Titus and everyone and also the first Sick Day Acastus has had since he turned 17 and by far one of the worst he’s ever had in his (second) life.

I might to a longer version later but not right now.

For Nox’s oddities and odd knowledge they kind of assume both? At first they think it’s just him resonating with Noctis so deeply that there’s a transfer (cue angst from Regis because what is going to happen to Nox when Noctis fulfills his destiny as Chosen King???) but then when Nox starts knowing stuff Noctis doesn’t/can’t know, they start to wonder if the scientists ... Tampered with his DNA. If they got their hands on Noctis’s, which should have been impossible, then it’s not all that out there they got their hands on Oracle DNA.

Sylva is ... very alarmed and very confused when Regis secretly contacts her on a secure encrypted line to ask if there were any ... symptoms to look for in an Oracle child. Because- yes there were but WHY DO YOU NEED TO KNOW?

Regis: they wouldn’t happen to be *lists very specific things*

Sylva: ....Have you seen any Messengers nearby lately.

Regis: Carbuncle, a black puppy that disappears into thin air, and a bird woman who can summon wind storms. She calls herself Garuda.

Sylva, having a minor crisis behind her Queenly Facade: I am Very Sure I only have two children so please explain this. Right Now.

Regis: Well............. NiflheimclonedmysonandIthinkmixeditwiththednaofyouoryourdaughterandhehasseerpowersandImayormaynotbepanickingrightnowpleasehelpme.

Sylva, slowly running that over in her mind and figuring out what Regis just said:...

W H A T.

XD Honestly Niflheim might invade Tenebrae only to find the royal family gone because Sylva coincidentally packed her backs and took her and her children on a secret trip to Lucis to have a look at Nox, then since they’re there when Niflheim invades and a spy gets word on what just happened Sylva and Co just- stay there. Oracle Mom Death averted.

Also they absolutely think that it’s Luna’s DNA they used to make Nox because of how instantly Nox gloms onto Luna like a limpet- JUST like he did with Noctis and Regis, and how Luna gets this dazed look in her eyes as their magic tangles and she whispers, “I ... I know you. I know you, don’t I Little Prince? I met you in a dream.” Luna starts crying softly as she pets Nox’s hair and when Sylva asks in alarm why she’s crying, Luna blinks and whispers, “Because he was crying in the dream, and I couldn’t comfort him.”

Acastus lurks in the shadows, watching it all with ... very mixed feelings.

Oracles. He could have gone his entire second life without meeting anymore Oracles. Aera she looks so much like you is that what our daughter would have looked like and oh astrals I KILLED her. I killed the girl with your eyes and your smile and laughed about it later.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Sweet Sixteen verse #Nox verse #long post

[sonic-me-baby]

Why I didn’t like Loki Season 1

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ALL EPISODES

With a series titled ‘Loki’, one would assume that we would get a deep dive into the character of Loki to better understand his motivations, traumas and backstory. Look at Wandavision - despite its failings it really told the story of Wanda and how she deals with her trauma WHILE advancing the plot. Falcon and Winter Soldier wasn’t as good but at least, we see how Falcon and Bucky deal with the aftermath and there is some growth.

I thought that Loki was on the right track in episode 1 when Loki watched himself die and reflect a little more on himself and ‘glorious purpose’. In fact, the whole set up with the TVA seemed like an amazing premise to allow Loki to rediscover himself and forge a new path for himself - an interesting prospect when we consider the tension between what he desires and the lack of free will in the TVA.

Unfortunately, what we got instead was 1 episode of Loki admitting he is a narcissist and has daddy issues, another where he comes out as bisexual before immediately falling for a female (and note, female instead of non binary which I find to be an odd choice) version of himself. The writers must think that this is such a good idea, he is such a narcissist the only person he can fall for is himself. Except, that doesn’t seem right to me, how quickly Loki’s character development shifts from admitting to being lonely and traumatised to falling incredibly quickly for himself. Even if this were the writer’s choice, it was poorly executed with so many ‘romance’ heavy scenes pushed in our faces (e.g Loki talking about ruling the universe together, giving Sylvie a blanket or the sexy eyes literally every moment he sees her) Why? It was not convincing at all that he fell for her mere hours after meeting her. Sylvie’s lukewarm reactions towards Loki makes this all the more unfounded. Even as an enemy to lovers trope this failed - where are the moments of real tension and the slow burn where they discover feelings for each other? My problem is that Sylvie and Loki are so much like each other that it isn’t the fertile land for this push and pull - in fact their differences (Sylvie wanting to destroy the TVA, Loki wanting ??) seems manufactured and unconvincing. What exactly draws them together? 

Aside from this very lengthy point, what disappointed me further was how the focus on Sylvie and Loki as a couple very much derailed and distracted from the actual plot in the last 3 episodes. On that note, the pacing made absolutely no sense. As a 6 hour movie sure, but to reveal the main villain in the last episode (whom we have no emotional or character driven connection to) and to drop a bomb that this whole series was basically made to open the multiverse made me feel cheated. So this series WASN’T about Loki it was about advancing the plot. Sure, the loose ends, edgy concept is bold but narratively, Marvel is going to leave fans just wondering about all the other characters without any epilogue or even cut scene? Like the previous serieses, the finale was a total letdown. 

Cinematographically, it looked like they just ran out of money - just Kang, Loki and Sylvie in a room talking for more than 30 minutes. How? So much exposition, it’s lazy writing in my opinion. They need to explain sure, but NOT in the final episode. I mean literally telling us about Kang’s experience of the multiverse war is an example of Telling not Showing, it adds no stakes to the plot. So, I’m supposed to listen to this guy talk and just automatically understand why he created the TVA? Especially coming from such an amazing episode with all the Lokis meeting each other and creating such an interesting world we have this?? No, absolutely not. Sylvie kissing Loki in the last 10 minutes just to backstab him after setting up that Loki was so in love with her the past 3 episodes? Absolutely not. Overall, my main issue is not so much that Sylvie and Loki start to ‘fall’ for each other, but rather, how quickly all character motivations and objectives become linked to this romance. 

Instead, I would argue that Loki as a character has not been fully and adequately developed as a character to be involved in ANY romantic relationship and I wonder why they included it. The whole story would have worked without the romantic undertones. Loki himself hasn’t grown enough as an individual to warrant whatever they put him through in this series. It just puzzles me that they chose to add romance at all. Not only was the Loki character unsatisfactorily developed at the end of the series, the other characters such as renslayer, mobius and even b-15 all lack adequate character growth. What happens after the ending? Why would you leave fans just waiting for more than a year to come back to this world. It really feels like they threw us in the water to drown.  I am most disappointed in renslayer - WHY is she so compliant to the TVA? Why does she do what she does? What is her internal drive and motivation? Mobius is slightly more developed but it seemed like they just threw the TVA characters away in the last episode. 

Finally, I think that the writers did Sylvie dirty. I do not understand why she was written this way - if you think about it no growth was achieved except that she killed kang and the multiverse. My problem with this is that it seems that her main purpose was plot - she is simply there to be romanced so she can betray loki and wreak havoc into the world. We needed to see more of her. You compare classic loki, he didn't have much screen time but narratively I understood, he has reached the end of his life and the touch of him finding his glorious purpose was so simple yet effective. With such a beautiful end for old Loki, it is so sad that our Loki once again ends up alone, yet again. 

Overall, I feel disappointed in the series because

1. Loki didn’t grow as a character, what we know about him now seems added in so that disney looks more LGBT+ friendly 

2. The dominance of Sylvie and Loki subplot which became a main plot and added nothing to the story

3. Horrible pacing

4. Inadequate development of characters

There are many things I loved about this series too such as the introduction of Loki variants (hella cool), the concept and design of the TVA and also multiverses! However, as a series titled ‘Loki’, it left much to be desired. Who and why Loki does what he does still doesn't make sense to me. Worse yet, the only lesson he learnt through this series is that no matter who gets close to him, Loki will still end up alone. 

#loki #loki series #im really sad and had to word vomit #loki spoilers #lokius obviously reigns supreme #marvel why

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Personal Thoughts on Pacific Rim: The Black (2021)

I watched season 1 of Pacific Rim: The Black, which released to Netflix on March 4! I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting much, after disappointments with the movie sequel. But the Pacific Rim franchise means a lot to me, so I wanted to give it a try. I’m very pleasantly surprised that I enjoyed this new show and connected with it in various ways. And given how wild my own life has been lately, it was really nice to get lost in something that validated the importance of different kinds of connections, and to not close down when the going gets tough or hard to explain.

PRTB is a pretty emotional, angsty story, and it’s not afraid to explore that over the full 7 episodes. The stakes are high, involving the loss of friends and family. So the characters have a real investment in what they’re doing and why they’re fighting.

The grittier tone of the show is a deviation from the movies, which maybe some people would like or dislike more. I think the seriousness helps to balance out having (yet again) inexperienced teenage protagonists. But the show does still get some fun scenes and quips in, and our main jaeger has a snarky AI who provides both humor and critical thinking checks for our protagonists, which is nice.

I liked the 2013 movie because it showed all of humanity coming together to fight a common enemy. Here, there’s enemies and allies on both sides of the Kaiju war, and even some who are in-between. This is a stronger nod to reality while decreasing the fun fantasy violence of the 2013 film. I don’t think this is inherently a bad thing for this series to do, because a series has a lot more space/time to fill than a movie, and even the 2013 film showed that there were significant cracks in the so-called “unity” that the Pacific Rim universe outwardly celebrated. In the midst of the 2013 movie’s talk about countries setting aside old rivalries, we still had politicians who didn’t care, criminals capitalizing off pseudoscience and unsanctioned nuclear weapons deals, religious sectors rising up to worship the title enemy, people being forced into dangerous jobs to keep from starving to death, the rich and powerful experiencing minimal lifestyle impact vs. poor people being abandoned to die or surviving through precarious means, and even toxic hero worship and intriguingly, the glorification of violence for entertainment and toy sales. So in this new show, we’re really seeing the movie’s cracks expanded and focused on. It’s even more front and center, given that the rest of humanity sees Australia as a lost battlefront and has deemed so many left behind as worth less than the effort it’d take to rescue them. So maybe a part of me misses the cool concept of human unity from the first movie, but even that movie was trying to tell people that unity is an illusion. Here, it’s just so front and center that it can’t be ignored in favor of robot fights, and I actually liked that immediate boldness.

(review continued under the cut)

Some of the details feel AU or divergent from what I remember of the movies, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing to me, so long as the show itself can be internally consistent. Transformers franchise spent forever trying to created an aligned continuity to no avail, so it’s not a detraction for me if Pacific Rim franchise wants to just flail in its own playground too.

The animation style grew on me as time passed, as it worked well for animating jaegers and Kaiju even if humans seem a bit stilted. It better captured a sense of scale compared to the sequel film, and the jaegers felt actually integrated in the animated physical space (something I really struggled with in Uprising). The sense of scale is not as good as the 2013 film. But then this show has a significantly lower budget and is a very different medium, so it was easy enough for me to accept it for what it is and to be glad that we got anything halfway decent, really.

The pacing could have been better across the different points of conflict, but honestly if no adult questioned or tried to undercut a couple of teenagers piloting the last active jaeger on an entire continent, that would have felt even more jarring and unbelievable to me.

I think Pacific Rim as a franchise has never been about reinventing the wheel when it comes to characters. But I was definitely interested in the topical similarities between the movie’s Mako Mori and the show’s Hayley Travis. They both do things in want to help/prove themselves, which results in an incredible backlash that they have to emotionally work through and overcome. In comparison, Raleigh Becket and Taylor Travis are both fairly static supporters, but when their hope drops out, it’s Mako and Hayley who kick in with other options, more energy. If we get a season 2, I’d be curious to see how the show further differentiates and humanizes these new characters. 

The 2013 movie had main characters who were very significantly traumatized. So having protagonists in the show who are very significantly traumatized as well didn’t feel like a distraction to me but instead just a nod to the franchise and how it’s closely tied with struggles to obtain mental health and connection. I’d be more worried if the teenage protagonists were people who consistently don’t think of consequences or who don’t take an apocalypse or immense power from a jaeger seriously...

PRTB definitely earned its TV-14 rating. It can be gritty and dark at times, but coming out of several TV-MA shows, the way it’s visibly handled on the human side is a nice break and sometimes even more emotionally effective than if extremely gory scenes were shown. I’m a little hesitant to get too emotionally attached to any character for future seasons, though, given this rating.

Some scenes were more personally engaging to me than others, but I’ve watched several shows lately where I couldn’t stand to actually finish them or was checking to see how much more time was left. With PRTB, I kept wanting to see what happened next, and time really flew by with some episodes.

The Kaiju shown are incredibly diverse, with some really cool designs. There’s something in here I’ve been wanting to write a fic about/daydreaming about since 2013 and this show actually does the thing in its own way, so I was personally excited about that.

If this show gets a season 2, I’d love to see our protagonists meeting up with more people from all walks of life and exploring various ways people have survived and maintained or redefined a culture in this post-apocalyptic world.

There’s an element of “connective regret” in this show that really personally spoke to me, given that I’ve lost a lot of people in real life suddenly. Like, you assume people will always be there until suddenly they aren’t, and that fact of life can really destabilize a family or found family. This show doesn’t shy away from trying to validate that stress, or from validating how important healthy connections still are in the face of loss or decoupling from other toxic relationships.

Mental health relapses, trust issues, and survivor’s guilt are also a thing in this show, which I found really interesting, and that was something we really only had time to see in small measure in the 2013 film.

I still have some worldbuilding questions, but honestly I clicked on this show hoping for a good time to lose myself in—and I feel like I received that in this season. So I ended the show feeling like, actually excited to talk about it with other people.

There’s plot twists and characters I want to flail about so bad, but that would involve dropping very significant spoilers here, so maybe I better hold off for now. 

But yeah, if anyone else watches this show, please feel free to reach out and flail with me about it!

#Pacific Rim #Pacific Rim: The Black #PRTB #Lightning rambles #I ended up watching the season twice in one day lol #No regrets #whoever said this show feels like Mad Max meets Godzilla #it does feel that way sometimes LOL

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Business (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well)

Warnings: angst, smut

Rating: Mature

Author’s note:  I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

Just like I promised, I'm posting the third chapter of the story 😄 I'll do my best to post the rest of the fic in the future. I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't mind that it’s so long 😂💖

~ 2900 words

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Chapter 3

"Let me go!"

Despite all the power put into the scream, words had been stolen by the infinity of the forest. The only sounds echoing in the darkness were the drumming of hooves and loud breaths coming out from both: rider and his horse.

Just when the man thought that he managed to escape the jaws of death, some impossibly strong creature knocked him off from the saddle. His body flew in the air before hitting the ground, breaking bones.

The young, chestnut stallion stopped galloping as soon as he sensed the lack of weight of his owner on the saddle. This well-trained creature turned around, ready to stand by the side of the man that groomed him since he was only a foal.

But at the time he got closer to the owner, something emerged from the shadows, sneaking up toward them. The horse's ears went wild, moving in different directions. He lifted his head high, getting a better perception of the surroundings as all of his muscles tensed, ready to react.

That's when a harsh red light flashed in the middle of the road in front of them. Despite all the previous courage, the presence of an unusual for the horse predator awoke his instincts.

Instincts that were saying to run away as fast as possible.

The dust picked up around the wounded man, and all he was able to hear was the neighing of the stallion. The sound was slowly fading away, deeper into the embrace of the forest.

"Seems that not even a horse is willing to help you," a feminine, harsh voice came straight from the direction of the crimson light. "I got the order. You must know how these work."

He was her target, a prey to hunt down for her master, her creator.

She had been said to look for the leader of the village in this part of the land. There was a prophecy saying about the downfall of vampires. It pointed at this specific person becoming the cause of it one day.

Her master wanted to take care of it in advance. To make sure that vampires will remain at the end of the food chain for much longer.

So there she was, just doing her part of the job.

"My wife..." the man managed to speak, being interrupted by his own blood, making him choke. "My wife is pregnant, I need to be there..." another spit of blood, "...for her and my child."

The vampire approached the begging man. Just to kneel down, so she would be able to look directly in his eyes. To see his fear and unsureness about the future of his family.

"Oh..." a seemingly sympathetic tone escaped her mouth.

Just to be followed by the dagger aimed straight in his heart.

"...but you will not."

***

Hesitation hit Amy along with the cold air of the evening right after she got out of her car.

Words said during the meeting echoed inside her mind, filling the space with doubt. She was well aware that her attitude during the gathering might have caused the end of this collaboration before it even started. That she might have just ruined the deal on which depended a lot.

Only because her pride had to win... once again.

It was the hour of her meeting with Kamilah. To her surprise, the place that she sent her to wasn't the building of Ahmanet Financial by itself. Instead, she got the address to one of the fanciest neighborhoods in New York.

Amy drove there on her own without bodyguards. She didn't let her parents know about any of what happened so far. In that case, she needed to deal with the situation on her own, praying that she would have only good news to share with them later.

Full of hope, she stepped into the elevator typing the guests' code that Ms. Sayeed sent her earlier that day.

"Now, try to fix it, Amy," she mumbled quietly.

***

The elevator stopped, and doors opened with a loud click sound.

Did she invite me to her penthouse? Amy asked herself in thoughts, stepping inside unsurely, slowly taking in the picture before her eyes.

Her steps were quiet. After walking through a short corridor, she found herself in a spacious living room with a view of the dining table and the open kitchen.

But there was no sign of the apartment owner.

With typical for her curiosity, she looked over the place. The girl was educated in interior design enough to admire a modernly stylized space. The colors around her were outweighed by black, light grey white on the walls and dark, deep browns of the furniture. Here and there, she noticed some accessories in the faint shade of lavender. Everything created a well-balanced contrast, pleasing to the eye.

After a while of waiting, Amy couldn't hold herself any longer, and she slowly approached the dresser that caught her eye from the start. What especially got her attention was an old photograph of the CEO of Ahmanet Financial and some strangers posing in the picture, all smiling. She assumed that the photo showed Kamilah in the company of friends.

But the only person she recognized from it was Adrian. He looked exactly the same as when she met him for the first time. The only difference was visible in his clothes. Everyone in the picture seemed to wear garments that had been taken straight from a different era.

Was it taken during some kind of costume party? Or maybe just a long time ago, but... how long? The girl put her purse aside to place one of her fingers on the picture, tracing over its surface, lost in thoughts.

"I can see you're the nosey one," a deep whisper made her jump in surprise.

Amy turned around quickly, almost knocking the picture by doing so. Just to face a smirking Kamilah Sayeed standing right there with her arms crossed. The girl's heartbeat increased from sudden shock, making her attempt to compose herself fail badly.

"Oh," Amy felt her cheeks reddening without permission, "I thought you were in a bathroom, or..." she was making excuses, but it got her thinking.

Why didn't she notice the woman sooner?

"I was watching you," Kamilah answered like she was reading her mind just by staring intensively at the girl. "Let me invite you to my office."

After a moment of hesitation, Amy decided to leave her concerns for some other time. So she followed this tall, mysterious woman, getting further into the apartment.

She found herself amazed by how different this room was decorated in comparison to the rest of them. It was way more cozy and old fashioned there between these four walls decorated with ancient artifacts.

"I'm surprised to see you alone," Kamilah stood behind the desk, inviting Amy to take a seat in front of her with a hand gesture.

Documents had been already arranged, waiting for her to read them. But suddenly, Amy lost her previous boldness. Out of nowhere, she felt intimidated by the presence of this absolutely beautiful woman.

"I'm not always surrounded by them," the girl tried to focus on the files as the following words slipped out of her mouth without her knowledge, "I'm a grown-up."

Kamilah smirked slightly at this but did not make a comment. Instead, she sat down and let Amy read the new contract that she had prepared for her.

***

Finally, Amy picked up a pen after she read the whole deal several times to make sure she understood everything clearly. She signed it and put the pen aside, having a hard time looking at Kamilah's face.

"Could you stop?" Amy whispered with unusual shyness in her voice.

"Excuse me?" Kamilah's eyebrows furrowed slightly, but she didn't take her eyes off the girl.

"You were staring this whole time," Amy did her best to not drop her gaze. "And you're still doing this," she blushed uncontrollably, making the woman smirk with satisfaction.

Kamilah's shoulders lifted and fell with a short yet deep breath. She reached for the documents just to put them on her side of the desk, giving the girl a short break from her stare.

Just to intimidate her with it again a second after.

"Dear...Amy," she started with a pause. "Is that how you'd like to be addressed?"

"It's up to you, Miss Sayeed," thoughts screamed inside the girl's head, judging her for the lack of courage.

"Kamilah," the woman corrected her before continuing. "I was wondering... Your family tree is a truly generous one."

The girl stayed silent, waiting for the rest, but Kamilah clearly expected her reaction.

"It... certainly is," unsureness grew in her chest.

"For centuries, every single newborn in Paines family," Kamilah leaned back on the chair. She twirled her hair around one of her slim fingers, "was a boy, am I right?"

Amy's body stiffened slightly, but she forced herself to nod calmly in response. But her mind worked faster from then on. She started paying more attention to the topic of their conversation. Because they were touching some delicate matters.

Dangerous matters.

"You are very well protected by your family," Kamilah was circling around the subject mercilessly. "Your parents trust you with their business," she tilted her head slightly to the side. "That must mean you are fully informed in the type of clients they are working with."

Oh my god, I am so stupid, Amy cursed herself.

At that same time, her right hand slowly traveled up her thigh. Her dress was designed with a little pocket on the side. Big enough to hide there a small object without arousing suspicion.

In this situation, even such a small wooden stake was good enough for self-defense.

"And yet, you're here." Kamilah squinted her eyes, letting the whisper to escape her lips. "All alone."

It was too much.

Amy stood up, ready to run, but she wasn't fast enough.

The girl wasn't a fool. She knew too well that she could never be faster than any of them. But it was the last chance left for her.

And it still failed.

In a split of a second, she was pushed against the wall with her hands firmly held down her sides. Making it unable to escape even if she dared to put up a fight.

Kamilah's shining eyes moved from the girl's eyes to her lips, following the path of the vein pulsing on her neck. Corners of her lips curled up as she looked down at Amy's right hand. Her fingers moved along.

"And what, care to tell," she ripped the stick out of Amy's grip, "were you planning to do with this?" Kamilah threw the weapon away, filling the room with the hollow sound of the wood hitting the floor.

"I..." Amy tried to calm down her breathing. "I know what you are."

It made the woman close the distance between them even more, their bodies almost touching.

"Enlighten me," Kamilah opened her mouth a little, letting her tongue run over her sharp teeth.

Amy swallowed hard at the view, trying to get her body under control, without success.

Finally, she managed to look into the woman's eyes, noticing a spark of crimson in them.

"You're a monster," words escaped her lips without hesitation.

Kamilah's eyes changed to red in a flash as a performance of power.

But to her surprise, the view didn't make an impression on Amy.

Actually, it caused quite the opposite reaction. The closeness of Kamilah's body suddenly changed from threatening to intimate, spreading heat inside the girl.

The woman leaned down since she was a little bit taller, bringing her lips closer to Amy's ear.

Close enough to let her hear the whisper.

"Are you afraid?" her breath teased sensitive skin on Amy's neck.

The girl closed her eyes for a moment, knowing how bad this situation was for her. Knowing that the anticipation created inside her was easily perceptible for the woman standing just an inch away from her.

That she shouldn't even question her own feelings. She wasn't supposed to react this way around the vampire. Any of them, there was no exception.

At least she thought so until that day.

"I'm not," she almost moaned the answer when Kamilah's hands moved to her waist, eagerly pulling her closer.

Their lips met, letting them taste each other's warmth.

Kamilah teased her, fastening and deepening the dance of her tongue, just to slow down soon after. To step back, waiting for Amy to follow.

The girl climbed on her toes, wanting Kamilah's lips closer, wanting to feel the ecstasy of this feeling forever. She attempted to touch the woman's face after freeing one of her hands. Just to find herself being turned around with an impossible power in response. She waited patiently this time, pressed against the wall with hands behind her back.

"I want to hear you moan," Kamilah whispered into her ear, thrusting from behind.

Amy's dress raised up dangerously, showing her legs, giving access to her skin. Kamilah let go of her hands, and instead, wandered her fingertips all over the girl's exposed thighs, making her writhe under this touch. Making her place both hands on the wall in an attempt to steady herself.

She was breathing heavily, indeed. But that was not what Kamilah expected from her.

And she wanted to make it clear only one more time.

"I said something," her voice sounded a little harsher than before.

Kamilah's hand moved on the inside of Amy's thigh, squeezing. While the other one came impossibly close to the girl's underwear, which was already soaked more than she suspected it to be.

At that point, Amy couldn't hold it anymore, didn't really try either. She moaned through her gritted teeth, moving her hips to feel the woman's fingers more.

"That's a good girl," Kamilah smirked, leaning down to move her tongue on Amy's earlobe.

From there, she moved lower, placing kisses on her nape, moving her blonde hair away from her skin. As she made sure to leave hickeys on her neck, her fingers were teasingly playing with the material of the lingerie. Amy's moans became more urging, revealing her growing impatience.

Desire to finally feel it.

Her aching for the touch.

"You have no clue how much it takes from me," Kamilah muttered into her skin, "to not devour you right now."

These last words were like a dash of cold water that Amy needed at that moment.

She tensed immediately, causing Kamilah to stop touching her. The woman didn't assume to misunderstand her signs earlier, but obviously, something made the girl change her mind.

Amy freed herself from Kamilah's grip, pulling the dress down with shaking hands, trying to cover her exposed skin. To cover thighs that she wanted to have touched so badly only a moment ago.

"I should go," she blinked a few times to collect her thoughts.

"Easy, darling," Kamilah was astonished by this unexpected shift. "I assure you, I won't bite," her appearance showed unusual for her concern.

But Amy was already moving back, making her steps to the way out.

She felt so stupid.

So reckless.

"I..." she couldn't find the right words.

So she chose to say nothing, walking out of the room in a hurry. Vanishing like a scared teenager.

Leaving the woman in her office completely alone.

"That was... unexpected," Kamilah said out loud, pouring herself a glass of gin.

***

A piercing scream signaled her destination.

The well-known scent of blood teased her nostrils, leading toward the source.

After barely a moment, she found herself standing between the buildings of the village, looking at the scene through the window from afar. She heard the faint heartbeat of the woman in labor, growing weaker with every passing second.

"There's no point in saving her, fools," the vampire muttered to herself, ready to turn around.

But something inside her broke.

The feeling remained for barely one short second, obligating her to save this family. Like she owed it to the man that she left behind in the forest.

Without thinking any longer, she used her vampire speed to get inside the building.

To move among people gathered around her target as if she was a ghost. A nothingness that left behind only a gust of wind that was immediately blamed on the open window.

She moved quickly enough to cut her wrist with one of her fangs, letting a few drops of it leak inside a bottle placed on the desk. Poisoning the purity of the water with a deep shade of red.

Just to disappear soon after into the darkness like the shadow that should have never left it.

The vampire ran fast, distancing herself from the place before she could feel the regret inside her chest. Repressing the disappointment in herself because she just broke the most important rule that all of them had sworn to obey.

Humans should never, under any circumstances, feed on vampires' blood.

Maybe if she stayed there a little bit longer, she would know that her efforts were in vain. Despite all the power her blood contained, it was not enough to save the woman. Her heart was too weak to survive the labor.

It stopped beating, just to leave the village and the forest around it with the burden of silence.

But at that moment, the peace of the night was disturbed one last time with a sound of hope.

Weeping of a newborn.

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Next chapter: 4

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tag list: @evexofxtime  @kamilah-is-queen @ariaminsinclair @helpconfusedpersonhere @ayushixo @nydeiri @vonda-b-real

#choices fanfiction #bloodbound fics #kamilah sayeed #kamilah choices #kamilah x mc #bb kamilah #vampires #f|f fic #w|w fic #w|w writing #an #smut #choices stories you play #bloodbound #business fic #kamilah sayeed fic

[theramseyloft]

Hello! I was wondering what sort of requirements pigeons would have and the whole breeds thing. (Sorry long ask) How much room would a pidge need? Like cage size and also, how would one go about excersizing them? Do you reccomend letting them fly free for the day and come back at night? Would they possibly get hurt or catch a disease/parasites out there? Are they expensive to keep? And what breeds are the most friendly/affectionate? Thank you :) 1/2

You know how some dogs have been bred to look nice but have a multitude of health problems (ie pug, chihuahua, great dane ,dachshund ect) does that happen in pigeons too? And if so, how does one know which might be genetically predisposed to getting problems later on or just generally wont have the best quality of life? 2/2

Whuf!

These are really broad questions. I’ll have to break them down and answer ne at a time, so I apologize in advance for the length of time it will take me to get this ask out.

“How much room would a pidge need? Like cage size...”

Pigeon breeds range in size from the tiny Valencian Figurita and Portuguese tumblers (vying constantly to be the worlds smallest breed) to the literally chicken sized Giant Runt.

So the amount of space required depends on the breed’s size and energy level.

Homers are about the average.

Here is an old picture from before the loft’s redesign of two of my breeding pair in their pens.

These are labrador sized dog crates, outfitted with a rabbit’s corner litter pan as a nest box and a garden stake cut to length as a perch.

Pigeons need flat perches because they are cliff nesters. Round ones like branches or dowels hurt their feet.

If yours is going to be a house pet, the cage should be what a crate is for dogs: A safe place to sleep or wait for you to get home until it learns the house rules.

Pigeons are intensely social birds that are happiest with the freedom of motion to come see you when they want, and go occupy themselves when they don’t want company.

The nice thing about pigeons is that they don;t need to be all over you all the time. They are independent enough to go do their own thing, but want to be able to come check on or spend time with you.

Which dovetails nicely into your next question: “how would one go about exercising them?”

A pigeon allowed to free range indoors will exercise themself plenty.

If you cannot let them free range the entire house, letting them out in your bedroom while you are home will be fine for most breeds.

“Do you reccomend letting them fly free for the day and come back at night?”

Absolutely not!

“Would they possibly get hurt or catch a disease/parasites out there?”

That possibly could be turned all the way up to a guarantee.

Performance breeds like racers, rollers, and tumblers are over bred to make up for the losses during training flights from inclement weather getting a bird lost, hawks snatching them out of the air, and diseases picked up from wild birds and brought back.

“Are they expensive to keep?”

After the initial cost for set up and the vet check to make sure they don’t have parasites and aren’t ill, the upkeep for a few is shockingly cheap.

You can get a lab sized kennel for $50-70. If you want an even bigger space, Great Dane kennels are about $80.

You can buy a wooden garden stake from pretty much any hardware store for about $5.

The bunny corner box is not required if you aren’t breeding. Pigeons will just as happily use a dollar store dog bowl to nest in.

My vet bill for a new bird is $70: $35 for the exotics wellness exam, $20 for a throat swab, and $15 for a fecal test.

I expected feral and lost birds to have lice, worms, parasites, and infections, but was floored when every single show bird I ever purchased from breeders did too!

You’re better off in the long run assuming something needs to be healed, cleaned out, or cleared up and just finding out from the vet as soon as they get there what needs treating.

Clear it out then, and an inside bird is pretty well set.

You can buy 50lbs of feed for $20 at Tractor supply.

And 50lbs of calcium supplements for $11.

I have 36 pigeons and 2 ringneck doves right now, so 50lbs lasts me a little over a week.

But a single bird will eat off of that for over half a year.

“And what breeds are the most friendly/affectionate?”

Most of the Exhibition breeds are pretty friendly, but from most to least kennel space, here are the ones I have enjoyed the most hands on:

Utility kings

These are the size of chickens and will need a LOT of flight time. 

They are a meat breed, so they are genetically predisposed to docility, but also obesity.

They do best free roaming the house full time. It’s really hard to find a cage big enough to comfortably accommodate them.

Giant Homers

Utility kings are a squabbing breed, designed for constant production of big squabs, so they are more bird-shaped than the Giant Homer, which was bred to be eaten as an adult, and then for the aesthetic of a fat round bird.

Like the Utility King, Giant Homers are known for their mellow, gentle temperaments. But after having worked with them for a few years, it seems mostly to be that they are simply too big and heavy to evade effectively, and they know it.

Along with being prone to obesity, their sheer weight puts tremendous pressure on their feet and they can develop huge, painful calluses.

I like my mixes better than their purebred parents, because they inherited the temperament with out the bulk that causes painful or dangerous health issues.

Lahore

Named for the city in Pakistan where they were developed, the Lahore is a huge, gorgeous bird. 

Their wing span more then the size of their actual body makes them difficult to cage, so it’s best they have the run of at least a bedroom.

these are laid back and mellow, but not exactly touch me birds. If one gets on your shoulder or in your lap, feel honored.

Frillbacks

For the same reason as the Lahore, Frillbacks can be difficult to pen indoors. 

An individual can be happy in a Great Dane sized kennel, but frankly won’t fit comfortably into anything smaller.

These are very laid back, not especially flighty, and quite friendly. Young birds are very much cuddle bugs, and the individual pictured still comes up to me to nurse between my fingers.

No known associated health issues, but individuals with especially long muffs can stay especially still because the shaft of the feather under the skin of their feet is bigger around than the bones of their toes, making walking painful.

Show standards require large muffs, so it can be hard to find them with muffs like Bean’s here.

There is one breeder that raises hers with short muffs and entirely clean legged. I’ll be happy to link you.

Voorburg Shield Cropper

These leggy, slender birds are a pain to house because of their height, but the only breed I know of with points taken off in the show standard if they are not friendly enough to try to court the judges.

This sweet flamboyant temperament makes them an absolute delight to work with!

These are the first on the list with no known health issues associated with the breed.

Show Type Racing homer

This is an elegant exhibition breed, easy to house in the example set up we discussed at the beginning of the ask.

They are bulkier than racing homers or flying type show homers, VERY tightly feathered.

This is a wonderfully sweet tempered breed that tends not to be especially flighty. 

Some of that is due to the sheer bulk of its musculature, but most of it does genuinely seem to be temperament.

Old Dutch Capuchine 

These have a reputation for being docile, but I have found them to be quite flighty.

Mixes incorporating this breed, though, tend to be quite bold and out going.

Racing Homer

This is the most commonly available pigeon breed.

Bred for endurance racing, this is a very high energy bird that needs a LOT of time out of the pen to fly. 

They have the strongest immune system and highest intelligence of any of the pure breeds.

though some individuals can be hair-trigger flighty, this breed is keenly intelligent and highly curious, and those individuals can learn to overcome their flightiness if their handler can learn to be aware enough of their comfort levels not to startle them with too-quick motion.

Lucerne Peak Crest

Named, like the Lahore, after the city in Switzerland where the breed was developed.

The Lucerne is an extremely temperature hardy breed. 

It’s among what are called the Owl Breeds; small, compact breeds with short to mid length beaks, round faces, and large, round eyes.

Most of the owl breeds are mellow and sweet tempered, boldly curious, and not generally prone to be flighty.

Their beaks being a little short makes their nasal slit narrow and the opening to their sinuses wide, so small seeds like Millet can get stuck in the nasal cavity of some individuals.

Classic Old Frill

Oh, this is my favorite purebred.

The total pidge package: Small, friendly, shockingly beautiful, devoted parents. 

There is absolutely everything to love about this wonderful cuddle bug breed.

Nun

These are a gorgeous breed, often described as being friendly because they are not smart enough to be wary.

They are unspeakably awful parents, prone to literally treating their eggs like an especially large, uncomfortable poop.

Old German Owl

Another absolute delight of a charming little Owl breed.

These are as stubborn as they are sweet tempered, which can make them a really fun challenge to train.

These are cuddle bugs, for the most part. 

Chinese Owl

These are tiny little clouds that range from intensely curious and strongly treat motivated to absolute refusal to have anything to do with anything even remotely human shaped with very little in between. 

Small and easy to house.

Portuguese Tumbler

This is a tiny bird, not much taller than a conure.

They are bred purely for aerial performance, so this is a SUPER high energy breed that, like the racing homer, needs a LOT of out time.

They are very bold in their friendliness, eager to check up on you and steal a cheek-smooch before zooming off to resume doing their own thing.

Unfortunately, their breed standard requires their back toe not to touch the ground. They go on tippy toes when they are happy, excited, or relaxed, which makes something like a human hand or shoulder physically difficult to balance on, and there for uncomfortable to stand on.

So trying to pet one throws their balance and stresses them severely.

Mixes with stronger feet are thrilled to have the affectionate attention of human flock mates.

Valencian Figurita

The tiniest owl breed, currently just barely winning out over the Portuguese tumbler.

It’s known for its trapezoidal head shape and upright stance.

This is a bold, plucky little bird that in my experience loves shoulders. ^v^

They are bred a little too small, though, tending to only lay one egg to a clutch, with many dying in the shell with out space for the peep to develop.

Their hatchlings are often given to ringneck doves to foster.

“You know how some dogs have been bred to look nice but have a multitude of health problems (ie pug, chihuahua, great dane ,dachshund ect) does that happen in pigeons too?”

Oh, god, you would not believe the number of pigeon breeds that aren’t even bird shaped!

There are nearly twice as many severely distorted breeds as fit, bird shaped ones.

Check the Modern art Pigeons tag.

“And if so, how does one know which might be genetically predisposed to getting problems later on or just generally wont have the best quality of life?”

Pippin is a feral pigeon.

This is about the closest you can get to the base line natural shape of the species Columba livia.

The more pigeon-shaped the breed, the better.

Ferals are, genetically, a blend of the homers, rollers, and tumblers that survived getting lost on training tosses or during performances.

Here is Wilson, another purebred Racing homer.

Because this breed is designed to fly marathons literally hundreds of miles, it’s a lot more compact and muscular than Ferals and genuinely wild Rock Doves, who only need to fly as far as it takes to find enough to eat in a day.

The farther off this base line you go, the less physically fit the breed.

The American Fantail is an especially heinous train wreck.

Its chest is out thrust over its head, its neck curves parallel to its spine, and its head is propped up by its own tail feathers.

This pitiful creature is not just displaying.

Their skeleton is permanently stuck in that shape.

Parlor rollers are bred with a combination of neuromuscular defects that throw their balance when ever they flap their wings, sending them into a panic as they flail to right themselves.

Parlor Tumblers have a less severe version of the same group of deformities:

We talked about the Old dutch Capuchine above.

Jacobins are the extreme “modern” version of the ODC.

You could trim their feathers to clear their field of vision

But their very long necks tend to collapse into their shoulders with age.

The male Barb’s huge, wrinkled wattle and ceres block off their nasal passages and deform the eyelids so that they may not be able to fully close.

Cocks usually go blind with in three years, but that doesn’t matter to their breeders because their peak show and reproductive performance is between their first and second year of age.

The Short Faced Budapest’s show standard requires its eyes to telescope as much as possible.

Its eyes are literally bigger than its skull, and don;t fit in their sockets.

The eye lid is all that holds them in.

And some can’t fully close their eyes.

This is the Oriental Frill, also called the Modern Frill.

they have literally no beak.

Turbits have a longer head, but a nearly inverted beak.

These birds can;t feed their own young, and struggle to preen themselves.

Aaaand here is the Egyptian Moraslat 

This is a very typical attitude among breeders of these birds with extreme body shapes.

I also have a series on weird, but physically sound breeds, and would be happy to go more into those in another ask.

#tw: animal cruelty