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allysunny · 4 months

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imagine miguel x fem!reader who absolutely LOVES disney, and she’s able to convince miguel to watch snow white and the seven dwarfs (1937) with her. At first miguel thinks it’s just a boring cartoon, but ends up enjoying it. More importantly, he enjoys watching it with you

Watching Snow White with Miguel O'Hara

Words: 2.1k words

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff! Miguel is very skeptical and a somewhat bore but he's OUR skeptical and a smowhat bore! Please do correct me on the spanish if it's incorrect! No beta, we die like Uncle Ben.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Here's another one of your requests! This one is short - I've been experimenting with that bullet point headcanon sort of format I told you guys about. I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I loved writing this nevertheless! It had been a while since I had watched the movie, so I got to rewatch it and have a fun time :)

It's been a while since I've written for Miggy - please go easy on me!

I hope you all enjoy this!

You’d suggested watching Snow White after jokingly calling him “Grumpy”. He’d come home one day sulking because of some Spider Society affairs (apparently, he did not like the way that new Miles Morales kid handled thing – “too emotional”, he said), and you’d taken one good look at him and called him “Grumpy”. He clearly didn’t understand what you were referring to, so you thought it’d be a fun way for you to spend an afternoon.

Miguel didn’t get the appeal of animated movies. He thought they were for children and hadn’t watched many. They weren’t his style either – Miguel liked biopics, historical drama, not silly little animated musicals with talking animals and, in his humble opinion, “very impossible happy endings” – when you told him you believed in happy endings because you’d found yours with him, he blushed and turned away, pouting and mumbling something about “you clearly being the exception because you were special and perfect in every way”

One Saturday afternoon, you were feeling particularly lazy, so after cleaning the apartment with him, you decided to celebrate. It was time for a much-deserved rest. You prepared some popcorn, grabbed a few blankets (for yourself of course – Miguel thought you were an undiagnosed psychopath because of the number of blankets you loved to cuddle under), and sat on the couch.

When Miguel looked at you, he raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” he asked, noticing the popcorn on your lap.

“I think it’s about time you get schooled on the art of animation.” You smiled and patted the seat on the couch next to you.

Miguel made a soft “tch” sound but sat nevertheless, wrapping an arm around you, as he always did. He could be grumpy and pout all he wanted, but you had him wrapped around your finger.

“So, what are you making me watch, huh muñeca?”

“We’re watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarves,” you quickly searched for the movie on your TV, and grinned once the bright Disney logo shone.

“Really? A kid’s movie? That’s why you’re wasting my time?” Miguel quirked one eyebrow and crossed his arms.

You scoffed, clearly offended. Sure, you could see his muscles through the fabric of the shirt when he crossed his arms like that, but it was beside the point and you would not let it deter you.

“It’s not just a kid’s movie! In fact, it was the first ever animated movie! It was a trendsetter! This movie walked so all animated movies could run! It’s a landmark in cinema history, it’s - “

“Vale, vale,” Miguel interrupted you, “I get it. It’s a big deal. Very important. Can you just press play?”

And so, you did!

At first, Miguel didn’t get it. It was silly. The plot was silly. Very silly, actually. Why would a Queen be worried about not being the prettiest? It sounded like a very weak reason to hate someone. It’s not like this Snow White girl wanted to steal her throne or her kingdom. And why dress her in rags? Clothes wouldn’t be able to hide her physical appearance. Sure, they could make her look dirty and unkempt, but they wouldn’t necessarily make her ugly. And what’s the deal with that Magic Mirror anyway? How can it talk? Why is it magic? Does magic exist in this world? How? It’s not really established, it just sort of exists. And the animation – it wasn’t at all that good. It was rather rudimentary, and not at all like the great landmark you mentioned.

“Miguel, it’s a movie. Don’t think about it too much,” you’d mumbled when you saw his expression, the one he always had, with the furrowed brows and tightened lips, the one that signalled he was deep in thought. “Just go with it, okay?”

He did.

Once the Prince and Snow White shared their first duet, he was kind of sceptical, but after taking one good look at you and your content expression, he relaxed, holding you tighter. You curled into his side and smiled.

And to be honest, he started getting into it.

After the Queen made her request to have the Huntsman hunt down Snow White, he shook his head. “What a hateful woman,” he said. “Hunting down a poor innocent girl just because of her beauty. Maybe the reason she’s not ‘the fairest of them all’ is because she’s actually hideous on the inside”. You beamed at that. Miguel seemed to be getting in the spirit.

Once Snow White found out from the Huntsman about the Queen’s order and ran away into the forest, you could sense Miguel was nervous. The dark shadows and hidden figures that so scared the young Princess had him tense up. You nearly chuckled out loud. He was scared. “Everything alright, my love?” you asked him. “Pobrecita….” Was all he said, shaking his head.

When Snow White started singing and gathering the animals around her, Miguel snorted. You looked up at him, confused. What seemed to be so funny?

“That’s you,” he said, pointing at the screen.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s you, alright. Always surrounded by people, bringing them together. Everyone in Spider Society loves you. Watching you interact with those idiots is like watching this movie.” He looked at you and you melted before those chestnut eyes. Bringing your hand up, you pressed a soft kiss on his jaw and turned to the movie once again.

How sweet he was.

He could try all he wanted. He could be tall, bulky, mean, scary Miguel all he wanted at HQ – around you, he was as needy as a lost puppy.

“Pft – look at her! Breaking into a random house in the woods. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is how she got herself killed.” “Miguel, shhh –“ “It’s the truth! What if this is a trap set by the Queen, huh? Snow White is not as careful as she should be.” You chuckled at Miguel’s comments, most of them which funny rather than annoying. His scepticism and aloofness in life provided him with a different, more realistic view on the movies. You had to admit though – he was right. What if it was a trap?

“Hah – that’s us,” Miguel said as Snow White began to clean up the house. “Although I wouldn’t want a weasel cleaning my plates – is that deer licking them?!” “It’s a –“ “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘It’s a movie Miggy, don’t think too hard about it’. I know, I’ve heard it. I’m just stating a fact – it’s disgusting.” You hummed, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind next time you feel like licking me –“ “That’s different cariño, I just can’t help –“, “You’re not watching, Miguel!”

“That’s grumpy?!” Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “I think you look exactly like him. And look at his scowl!” Miguel shook his head and pouted, and while you should’ve stopped teasing him, you just couldn’t stop with the laughter. He looked exactly like the character, with his sulking expression and crossed arms. You had to pause the movie for a while because tears were streaming down your face. Miguel sulked even further, and only relaxed once you’d kissed him plenty and told him he was “a very handsome grumpy” and “the grumpy of your heart”.

“Tch, if I’m Grumpy, then you’re Dopey.” “WHAT?!”

It’s important to note it was only now that Miguel even realised you were clutching a bowl of popcorn, so he accused you of “hoarding” and placed in on his lap so the both of you could share. Or, well, share whatever was left of it.

You two watched the rest of the movie, Miguel still throwing in small quips about the characters here and there. He smiled as the dwarves danced with Snow White, foot actually tapping to the rhythm of the song. When Grumpy seemed to melt after the princess had kissed his head, he almost melted. “Maybe I am your Grumpy after all”, he said, to which you giggled and took a popcorn from the bowl.

As soon as the Evil Queen appeared once again, he scowled cursing her name in Spanish.

“Snow’s far too kind for her own good. Who’d take an apple from a stranger? The dwarves told her not to let anyone in. She’s far too trusting for her own good.” He mumbled, shoving handful of popcorn into his mouth (you’d had to go get a new pack). “Well, she’s kind and good. She saw someone in need and wanted to help. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.” You replied. “Yes, but people take advantage of her. The Evil Queen is preying on her kindness. Qué pendeja…”

It was eerily quiet once Snow was inside the coffin, and the dwarves were mourning her loss. You tried to say something about it, but he quickly shushed you. The tables had turned – this was it; he was interested in the movie.

But that sadness did not last long. The Prince came along and kissed Snow White, waking her up. Of course, Miguel being Miguel, he made some sort of comment about how “how creepy it was he’d just kissed a corpse out of nowhere”, but there was a smile in his face when they rode off to his kingdom, so you paid it no mind.

After the movie had ended, you looked at him. It was hard to decipher what was going on inside that beautiful head of his, but you tried, nevertheless.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did you like it?”

Miguel stared at the television some more, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“You’re telling me this was the first ever animated movie?” he asked, still looking at the screen.

“The very first.”

“I see. Well, the animation was quite rudimentary,” he began, “And the plot had some flaws. Snow was far too trusting.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Of course, it had all been in your head. Why would he have liked an animated movie? It wasn’t his style and all. He probably thought it was girly and stupid, and you’d just wasted his time.

You were beginning to utter an apology when he kept speaking.

“But it was fun. I liked it.” His eyes were soft, finally holding your gaze. Sure, the movie wasn’t particularly his type. He wasn’t a big fan of princesses, and there were far too many musical numbers for his taste. But he got to spend one whole afternoon with you in his arms, watching as you smiled and giggled and gushed over this movie that you clearly held so dear in your heart, and he would do it all again in a heartbeat, just for the privilege of seeing you happy.

And if that wasn’t love, then what was it?

“It reminded me of how selfless and kind you are.”

You blushed under his praise, and hid your face in the crook of his neck. Miguel brought his hand up and caressed your cheek absentmindedly.

“I’m serious, cariño. Sure, I may be Grumpy all you want, but you’re just as good and altruistic as she is.”

You looked up into his eyes, cheeks aflame and heart all fuzzy.

“You think so?”

Miguel smiled and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“No, I’m joking. You’re Dopey.”

He laughed loudly and you huffed, throwing the now empty popcorn bowl aside to all but jump on him, attempting to tackle him doing and tickle him. He let you do whatever you wanted for a while, pretending you could compete with him, falling on the couch and feigning defeat. But he quickly got bored, and held both of your arms with one hand, flipping the two of you so you were laying on your back, and he hovered over you.

When he kissed your neck repeatedly, you laughed out loud, willing to surrender. Miguel knew all your secret spots – he nosed the one you were most ticklish in, and you yelped, feet kicking up. He merely smirked at this reaction and kept placing kiss after kiss after kiss on the column of your neck.

“As I was saying,” he said, matter-of-factly, lifting his head to kiss you gently on the lips. You were so beautiful; he wondered what the shock he must’ve done to have the privilege to be with such an amazing woman.

“I enjoyed our time together. If you’re happy, then I’m happy. ¿Mañana vemos otra?”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara #atsv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader

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bloodmoonmuses · 2 months

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stereo 127 | johnny suh

(for @lovesuhng !!! I hope you like it!!!)

genre: johnny suh x reader, college au, teacher's assistant! johnny, friends to lovers

warnings: none!

summary: johnny is your campus crush. he also happens to be the teaching assistant in your music history class. when you (innocently) ask for help on a project, you end up learning about more than just music.

You’re a bit obsessed with this guy who skates around campus- or the concept of him, more accurately. You don’t even know his name. All you know is that last semester, you (accidentally) memorized his schedule, resulting in you walking to certain classes a few minutes earlier than necessary to catch a glimpse of him. These glimpses were merely a blur, whipping past you like an apparition. He was a ghost to you, and you enjoyed being haunted by him.

Your friends made fun of you for having a campus crush, arguing that it’s not real since you don’t actually know him. However, you honestly preferred the distance. Then, you could fill in the gaps in your knowledge with your own imagination. Admiring him from afar worked for a while- that is, until the start of Spring semester.

When you saunter into your music history class, a random elective you took for fun, you’re met with the elusive Skater Boy. You knew he was tall, but he’s even taller than you’d imagined in your daydreams. You glance at him briefly, before going to take a seat at a desk near the back.

Skater Boy chats with a few of his friends at the front of the classroom, then sits next to the teacher’s desk when the professor enters. You infer that he must be the teacher’s assistant.

This was a big problem. Surely, you’ll fail this class now. There’s simply no way you’ll be able to focus. The breathy laughs that escape him are already distracting you to the point of being almost unbearable. His smile is so breezy, like a wave catching the wind. He looks just as cool here in the classroom as he does on his skateboard.

The underlying crush that lay dormant in you begins to boil, and you know it will soon bubble over, scalding everything in its wake. You couldn’t wait for the burn. In fact, you aimed to spur it on sooner.

You make a concerted effort to pay attention to the professor’s spiel, pulling out your notebook to take notes. It's syllabus day, sure, but you want to look studious. The first assignment of the semester is to research the history of your favorite music genre.

Despite your efforts to focus, your eyes drift to the stickers that adorn Skater Boy’s laptop: Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, an Arctic Monkeys logo and a cartoon surfboard. You want to know everything he likes and commit the list to memory. You want to sew his idiosyncrasies into a quilt and blanket him with your loving knowledge of them.

The professor introduces him as Johnny Suh- a third year music composition major. Now the ghost has a name.

—

You look at the office hours on the bottom of your syllabus. Johnny would be in office in lieu of your professor for the majority of the semester. Would it be so bad to pop in and ask him for help on the first assignment?

While you admittedly feel silly, walking to the Arts and Humanities building looking a bit too gussied up, you swallow the nervousness. You stand in front of the room, reading the placard:

Professor: Dr. Moon

TA: Johnny Suh

You knock on the office door. On the third knock Johnny says, “Come on in!”

Meekly, you enter. He’s too real, too tangible, in this small space. You’ve never been within touching distance of him. The prospect makes your fingers tingle. Professor Moon has an insane book collection, two bookcases spanning the walls opposite one another. The rest of the office is cluttered with a slew of instruments.

Johnny is wearing a backwards hat and quarter sleeve sweater. Your eyes graze the expanse of his forearms, then drift upwards. There’s a pen clipped to his collar and another in between his lips. It’s the most tantalizing pen you’ve ever seen. Finally, you make eye contact.

Introducing yourself, you say, “Hi, my name is _____. I’m in the music history course.”

“Nice to meet you.!” He takes the pen out of his mouth, and your eyes follow it forlornly. That could’ve stayed. “How can I help?”

Johnny gathers some papers, places them in a neat stack at the center of the desk, then sits on the edge of it.

“Um, I’m a non-major. So, I’m struggling a bit with the first assignment.”

Johnny nods understandingly. “Ah, the dreaded favorite genre assignment. What’d you pick?”

“Pop punk,” you say.

“Fascinating. You don’t strike me as a punk person.”

You shrug. “Grew up on it.”

“Have you been to the record store near campus?”

You shake your head.

“It’s called Stereo 127. I think it would be cool to listen to some records and base your research on specific albums. Then you’ll have a clearer framework for when it’s time to write the paper.”

“Thanks. Um,” you clear your throat, “Would you mind… showing me?”

“The record store? Yeah, sure. No problem. Does this weekend work for you?” Johnny asks.

“Sounds good!”

—

Stereo 127 is densely packed with all sorts of records, mimicking the state of Dr. Moon’s office. There’s a classmate of yours named Jaehyun who’s keeping watch of the store. He walks around the shop, reorganizing things as he sees fit. As you peruse the albums, you’re peeking at Johnny over the records, trying to catch his eye. Unlike you, Johnny is actually scanning the selection, genuinely trying to help you.

“Let’s get the obvious ones out the way,” he says, holding a Blink-182 record. He’s somehow managed to track down a copy of their debut album, Cheshire Cat.

“If Cheshire Cat is an ‘obvious’ pick to you, then I’m way out of my depth,” you confess.

“A little pretentiousness never hurt anyone,” Johnny replies.

So far, you have a copy of Green Day’s Nimrod (which you’re quite excited about) and Paramore’s newest album. As the minutes pass, you get gradually more enraptured by the thicket of albums. Before you know it, you’ve accumulated quite a few records. After a bit, you sidle up to Johnny, peering over his shoulder to check out his picks. You spot a Yellowcard compilation record.

“This is more fun than I thought it’d be,” you pipe, turning to face Johnny. His face floods with fondness when he sees the stack of albums in your arms, caramel eyes warming you from the inside out.

“Yeah, you have a good eye,” he retorts. “I’ve been meaning to check out a few other shops around town. Y’know. To compare selections.” He’s sputtering now, having fallen into a cough fit.

“You okay buddy?” you say, chuckling. You gingerly pat his back, holding back a full blown laugh as Johnny continues to cough.

He waves you off, but you pat his back once more for good measure.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Johnny says. When he regains his composure, he continues. “I was just wondering… Are you busy on the 27th?”

—

You’re sprinting across campus, eager to meet Johnny outside of the boys’ dorm. It’s been two weeks since you’ve last seen him. He’s leaning against the building as he waits for you, clad in a page boy cap (which he’s wearing backwards again) and tank top. You allow yourself a quick glance at his arms, immediately regretting it as your face heats up. When he spots you, Johnny waves excitedly, the width of his smile making your own double in size.

After your first excursion, Johnny had asked for your number (“in case you have questions on the assignment!” he had said). Since then, the two of you have texted occasionally, mostly about school.

The record store he takes you to this time is called The Boot. It’s less trendy than Stereo 127 and less organized as well. Most of the vinyls are in bins, withering at the edges and clearly sundamaged. Johnny says he comes here to find obscure records to spin during his DJ sets, not to necessarily hunt for additions to his collection.

“So, you’re a music composition major?” you ask as you crouch down to sift through a box.

Johnny nods. “With a minor in photography.”

“Favorite camera brand?”

“Nikon for sure, but I mostly shoot 33mm film.”

“How pretentious,” you say.

“Oh, you love it.” This is true, you do love it.

Johnny continues. “I found another record store for us to try out after this one.”

“Yeah, just text me whenever.”

—

You had finished your paper days ago, so the subsequent record store outing was completely unnecessary to a certain extent. Johnny had no choice but to admit that he simply wanted to hang out with you- though, he’s not complaining.

The final record store you visit with Johnny is called WAYVE. This time, he picks you up in his car to take you there- a dinky pick up truck with a shitty paint job.

“Before we head out- “ Johnny reaches over, opening the glove department in front of you. His hand brushes your leg briefly.. He pulls out a CD case and places it in your lap.

“I made a playlist for you.” He can’t look you in the eyes properly. You’ve never seen him look this sheepish.

Johnny continues. “Not vinyl, I know, but I wanted to decorate the cover.” Taped to the front of the jewel case is a polaroid of you perusing records. In the photo, your brows are furrowed in concentration.

“When did you even take this, you weirdo?”

“A few weeks ago at The Boot. The lighting was nice.”

You’re practically buzzing with excitement when you get home, racing to put the CD in your busted boombox. The first song on the playlist is Going Away to College by Blink-182.

“I haven't been this scared in a long time

And I'm so unprepared, so here's your valentine

Bouquet of clumsy words, a simple melody

This world's an ugly place, but you're so beautiful to me.”

—

You got a B minus on the paper, which is better than you would've done without Johnny’s help. However, the project is the furthest thing from your mind.

All you can think about is the lyrics of Going Away to College. You’re trying not to read into things, but Johnny wasn’t the most subtle.

Maybe you should make a playlist for him. Or buy him a record. According to him, Johnny’s not a true collector- that was reserved for cameras. Maybe he’d appreciate it.

Johnny spots you walking to class (though he’s sure your next one isn’t for another half hour). He skates over to you, stopping right at your feet. You shriek, almost stumbling backwards.

“What the hell, Johnny?”

He dismounts his skateboard, holding it under his arm nonchalantly. “Do you wanna hang out somewhere other than a record store?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

—

The skatepark is overstimulating in the best way. After trying (and failing) to teach you how to do an ollie for an hour, the two of you set up a picnic off to the side of the halfpipe. You eat kimbap off Johnny’s skateboard, using it as a little table.

“Sorry you got a B on your paper, by the way. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t grade it.”

“It’s okay. I’d rather earn a B from Professor Moon than have your biased ass give me a higher grade than I deserve.”

Johnny places a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically.

“Um, what about academic integrity? I would do nothing of the sort!” he insists.

“Oh come on, you’re obsessed with me,” you say, half-joking. To your surprise, Johnny nods to himself, agreeing with you.

“Only a healthy amount though.”

When you and Johnny finish the kimbap, he scooches next to you. The sun is setting, oranges slowly darkening into a wash of deep indigo. You shiver as the sun dips beneath the horizon. Johnny places his jacket across your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you say.

“No problem.”

You place your head on Johnny’s shoulder.

“Um, and thanks for the playlist too. It’s really good.”

“Yeah?”

“It sorta had… a theme to it.”

Johnny suddenly pulls out from under you, leaving you to stumble around for a bit as you catch yourself. When he turns to you, he stares, caramel eyes pouring into your own. You feel warm in spite of the chilly breeze.

“I’ve never really been good with words,” Johnny confesses. “I figured I’d let the music do the talking.”

With that, he takes your face into his hands. He traces your features with the pads of his fingers- running them over your eyebrows, the lids of your closed eyes, your nose and, finally, your mouth. When he’s satisfied, he places a faint kiss upon your lips.

He pulls back, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m so glad my pretentious bullshit doesn’t give you the ick,” Johnny says.

“Only a healthy amount,” you say through a smile.

Suddenly, you initiate another kiss, your lips crashing into his fervently. When Johnny recovers from the initial shock, you deepen the kiss further. He’s a patient kisser, never demanding too much or taking more than he’s given. This only heightens your hunger for him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. When the two of you come up for air, you linger with Johnny still in your embrace, his eyes crinkling at the edges with pure joy.

a/n: currently unedited + feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading!

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #nct 127 fluff #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh

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pray4byron · 2 months

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hey its Claire, love the match-up result I got! so since your requests are open I was hoping you could write an idea i had. I tend to dress in character for Renfairs, like full costume authentic to era, so I was wondering I'd you could do Luci x fem! Reader at a historical reenactment date or maybe luci showing reader authentic era textiles and other authentic history stuff? I think that'd be fun!

heya claire!! i’m glad you enjoyed your matchup! this is actually so cute like i’m literally giggling at the thought hehe

i wasn’t sure what to title this because i’m going off on a lot of areas in this so i hope it makes sense lol

a/n: i went so off topic. whoops. 😭😭

Lucifer x History Enjoyer!Reader

Romantic Headcanons

Will definitely bring home any textiles, historical monuments, or whatever he finds on his outings

He does his research on whatever era your fascinated by, he’ll go off about fun facts that he found, or documentaries or books that he saw about the era, he’ll even go all out on a fit for it XD

If you ask him, he will 100% go to any history related cons or fairs that you enjoy, he may get a bit overwhelmed by the crowds but he genuinely enjoys himself

Without a doubt, your first date some kind of history or art museum, he would watch you get all excited about the stuff you’re interested in, and he would think it was the cutest thing and probably join in on your excitement as well XD

#hazbin hotel #mio’s writing ! ☆#hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #fanfiction #x y/n #x you #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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thrawns-babygirl · 10 months

Text

The Gallery (Thrawn x F!Reader 18+)

SO! A few things before we get started.

I know nothing about art. I tried my best to make this seem somewhat believable but I'm not an artist, nor will I ever be.

The "dates" I used were in the form of the 'Coruscant Reckoning Calendar' or C.R.C since the battle of Yavin hasn't happened yet and I hate BBY and ABY as in universe measures of time. However they aren't real dates I just threw random numbers into the format and hoped it looked semi believable

I am aware this is really derivative and I'm sorry in advance lmao

This is my first time writing Thrawn, and while I read copious amounts of Thrawn fanfic, I'm still nervous about how I write him so constrictive criticism is encouraged.

I hope y'all enjoy this, I had fun writing it. Been over a month since i wrote anything and it shows.

Rating: E (18+) Word Count: 3800+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV, Oral (F receiving), the tiniest breeding kink if you squint and tilt your head sideways, Art

Masterlist

You looked around the halls of the Imperial Palace and sighed. These galas were boring, atrociously so. But alas, if you wished to maintain funding for your gallery you had to at least make an appearance, rub elbows with the Imperial elite, sweet talk some moderately intoxicated senator or delegate into agreeing that your program was in fact not a waste of credits, and was actually something that the Empire should foster. A civilization without the arts was barely a civilization at all. You sigh, swirling the obnoxiously expensive drink you have in your hand as you stare up at a large canvas painting on the walls of the hall.

Pre Republic era, oil on canvas, looks to be-

“Coruscanti in origin, an interesting blend of ancient human styles native to the planet with a Duros influence, I’d date it around 3591.39.5, what do you think?” as smooth, calculated voice drawls from beside you.

You hum in thought, as you continue looking up at the artwork. “Perhaps earlier, the dot work is absolutely indicative of Duros influences, maybe even around 2280.124.43, when Duros traders started using hyperspace routes to explore the galaxy and foster trade” you turn to face the mystery man and stiffen as you notice the crisp white uniform of a Grand Admiral, but perhaps even more intriguing was his cerulean blue skin, and more intriguing than that, his red eyes that glow softly.

Without taking his eyes off the painting he continues “an interesting theory, however, I would date it after that. The artist was obviously human, their style indicating that they grew up around humans, the brushwork is similar to most works of that period, however the Duros influence would indicate it would have been some time after Humans had made contact with other races. Humans of that era were exceptionally isolationist, their artwork reflects that, this piece shows of an artist who is comfortable with outsiders enough to incorporate them into their medium” the man takes another sip of his drink before turning to you, fixing you with those enchanting eyes “what do you think?”

You’re taken aback, this man, this Grand Admiral, knows what he’s talking about, in fact he may even know more than you about the topic, you scramble to think of something, anything to say. Your face heats up as you think back on human art and history from that era and realise, he’s right. You take a sip of your drink to steel your nerves, warmth flooding your cheeks that you hope he doesn’t notice as you turn back to the painting.

“I think you might be right; I forget about how isolationist humans were back then; it would have taken a long time before they would have taken on facets of other species art in their own” you say thoughtfully as you look up at the painting. It really was a beautiful piece of art. You look back at the stranger to find him also gazing up at the painting with a thoughtful look on his face. Perhaps this art enthusiast of a Grand Admiral was the person you were looking for this whole time? Steeling yourself again you turn and give him your name.

“I curate the Royal Imperial Gallery here on Coruscant, a pleasure to make your acquaintance” You incline your head respectfully as he turns to face you again.

“Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo, however you may call me Thrawn, and I am aware of who you are” Thrawn takes another sip of his drink as he turns his gaze back up to the painting. You eye him curiously as he drinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows and turns back to you.

“You do?” your tone slightly more accusatory than you wanted it to be, Imperial Grand Admirals tended to be the types of people who rallied against your requests for more funding, claiming that the money could be better spent on the Imperial Navy or the Stormtrooper Corps.

Thrawn’s mouth quirks slightly, as if he were attempting to stifle a smile before he speaks again, his voice low “Of course, I am a regular at your institution, I also appreciate your holo galleries so that I may appreciate new instillations while I am away on long campaigns. It is obviously, a crude imitation of having the original piece in front of me, but I will make do with what I can” he eyes you seriously. “I especially appreciated your most recent display of Pantoran tapestries. Pantora is a hub of so many different species and cultures, their art always provides an interesting challenge to see what visiting species influenced what pieces”.

You stare at him wide eyed as he speaks, this man, this Grand Admiral, was an art enjoyer, no an art enthusiast. Perhaps this meeting was destined, perhaps he was the one who would help you retain funding for your gallery before it was all syphoned off and spent on warfare. You open your mouth to speak but it’s like he could read your mind. “I have already spoken with the Emperor, he agrees with me that maintaining the fine arts is important for any society. Your funding is secure” he turns back towards the painting and takes another sip of his drink.

He spoke to the Emperor himself? And the Emperor himself agreed to maintain your funding? Your head was spinning. This is not at all what you expected when you came here tonight, you were expecting to have to plead your case to stuffy senators and businesspeople for them to even consider the possibility that your gallery was worth it. You shake your head as you realise you’ve been staring at him in stunned silence for longer than what would be considered polite. “I… Thank you Grand Admiral. That is… that is wonderful news” you fight to keep the emotions out of your voice, finishing your drink quickly “I don’t know how I can repay you” his lip quirks again in that almost smile before he too finishes his drink.

“No thanks is necessary, and please call me Thrawn, although I would love to hear about what new instillations you are planning for the gallery in the coming months, I have some time planetside and would be remiss to not attend a new display should you be preparing anything exciting” he waves over a serving droid as he talks and takes two more glasses of the overly expensive amber liquid, offering you one which you politely accept before he takes a sip of his.

And just like that, the hours melt away as you walk with Thrawn around the hall, speaking quietly to one another about the intricacies of the art hanging on the walls, from paintings to tapestries to the small statues lining the hall, Thrawn had something to say about all of it. For a military man, he was very, very well educated.

And very, very handsome.

You shake your head as you finish your drink, maybe you have had one too many glasses of Chandrillan Sweet Wine you think to yourself as Thrawn continues speaking about the techniques used to weave a particularly intricate tapestry the two of you were standing in front of. You wanted to listen to him, you really did, but watching the way his lips wrapped themselves around the words he was speaking combined with the melodic sound of his voice had your mind wandering to places that could be considered vastly unprofessional.

As if sensing your fleeting attention to what he was saying he turns to face you, raising a single eyebrow as his lips quirked once again in a ghost of a smile. “Apologies my lady, I do tend to get ahead of myself when discussing art, if you wish to take your leave I will not be offended” you falter slightly because no, you don’t want to leave, you could spend forever listening to his peculiar accent and you rack your brain for something that would keep him in your presence. So, you decide to take a small risk.

“No Thrawn, not at all, in fact I was just wondering if you would perhaps like to join me for a small excursion to the gallery. I could give you a sneak peek of the next exhibition we will be opening in the coming weeks, provided traditional Rodian woodwork is a topic you would be interested in?” you say hopefully, willing the heat away from your cheeks as you place your empty glass on a passing serving droid.

He smiles this time, not just a slight movement of his lips, but a genuine smile that has your heart beating slightly faster and your face burning. He too places his glass on a passing droid and gestures with his hand towards the door. “Lead the way”

The speeder ride towards the gallery is quiet, the lights of Coruscant illuminating the cab as the pilot droid takes you both towards the gallery. You shift in your seat, gazing at his profile from the corner of your eye. His long nose and pronounced cheek bones illuminated by the slight glow of his eyes. You wish you could think of something to say as you fiddle with the hem of your dress, but he doesn’t seem to mind the silence, in fact he seems to be the type that enjoys comfortable silence over inane small talk, so you keep your lips sealed, willing yourself to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl as the cab stops in front of the gallery.

The gallery is dark, quiet, giving it an almost eerie quality as you walk through the halls, you unlock the door to your office and step to the side to allow Thrawn through, turning on the lights to reveal a small room, a moderately sized desk with a few shelves and a window that looks over the city.

“We haven’t gotten all the pieces yet, so this is only a taste of the style of art we will be displaying soon” you unlock another door that leads to a storeroom, pulling on some gloves, passing him a pair and grabbing a few of the intricately carved wooden sculptures to show the Grand Admiral. He takes them off you and studies them closely, his intense eyes scanning over every detail of the wood before moving over to another sculpture, then another. At the last sculpture he pauses, studying it even more intently than the others before looking up at you. “Do you know the importance of this piece?” he inquires as he holds the small wooden figure towards you.

You take it off him, studying it closely, noting the ridges and bumps. Unfortunately, Rodian art and wood carvings in particular have never really been your area of expertise, although you have a feeling that you’re about to learn. “Unfortunately, Thrawn I am not very well versed in Rodian woodworking, I have a few on staff that would know more than I do” you place the statuettes back into the storeroom and lock the door before turning back to him only to find him looking at you intently.

“That particular sculpture is known as a ‘Prwiss’ it was used as part of a fertility ritual on Rodia centuries passed. The statue would be placed near the bed of the couple attempting to conceive as they partook in intercourse in order to increase the likelihood of fertilization” he explains evenly.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. ‘Definitely too much wine’ you think to yourself. The words ‘intercourse’ and ‘fertilization’ shouldn’t have such a visceral effect on you. All you can think of is having such a statue over your own bed as Thrawn runs his large hands all over your body, as he thrusts in and out-

“Do you know of my species?” Thrawn asks suddenly. You shake your head, mouth dry as you respond “No… I don’t” his shoulders rise and fall slightly, something that could potentially indicate a chuckle from the stoic man.

“I am Chiss” he says slowly walking towards you “and being Chiss has many benefits” he continues approaching you, in any other context, you could almost compare his slow steps to a predator stalking its prey.

“My eyes for example, I am able to see things that humans cannot. Heat for example” he says as he stops directly in front of you. You blush again, a fact made worse now knowing he’s been able to see your blushing so clearly the entire night the two of you have been together. You swallow, not trusting your voice as he stares you down. You take an unconscious step backwards, Thrawn following you until the backs of your legs meet the solid material of your desk.

“At first I simply thought that you were flushed from the alcohol but… now I have come to a different conclusion” he leans his face closer to yours, you can feel his warm breath against your lips as he holds his lips above yours. A moment for you to back away should you not wish him to go further.

You stare into his bright eyes as your face warms further and heat pools between your legs. Would he be able to see that beneath the layers of your dress? Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as he places his lips over yours, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses you against your desk. You meet his lips in a passionate kiss, the heat from the night reaching a boiling point as he removes his gloves and places his hands on your hips, following his lead you do the same before tangling your hands in his soft hair.

After what feels like an eternity he pulls back, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss and a faint dusting of purple along his sharp cheekbones. He presses you further against your desk and you get the hint, moving some small items out of the way before sitting on the desk.

Thrawn attacks your lips again, a hunger present behind his movements as he situates himself between your legs, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he begins kissing along your jaw, down your neck. You gasp as you feel him suck a dark mark into the skin just above your collarbone, you tug at the soft strands of his hair eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest as he moves his hips against your core. You can feel a definite hardness in the front of his pristine while uniform pants as he moves his body against yours, dragging small sounds of pleasure out of you.

His hands begin moving all over your body, running up your sides around to your back where he begins unfastening your dress, his movements pausing for a moment as he looks at you. You answer his unspoken question with another fiery kiss as his hands work methodically behind you to unfasten your dress, letting it pool on the desk as he moves over towards your breasts. His long fingers tweaking and pinching at your nipples through the thin material of your bra as his other hand moves down your side to help totally remove the dress from you.

He pulls the dress over your head, pausing to haphazardly fold it and place it on your desk before his hands are all over you again. One runs along your thigh while the other expertly unclasps your bra, he pulls the fabric away from your body before moving his lips to your jaw and neck again. You move your hands to his hair again as he kisses down your neck towards your chest.

“Watching the blush crawl up your skin” he mumbles against your neck, voice husky “is truly the most beautiful thing in this entire gallery” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking, rolling the nub around his mouth, his tongue lathing over it. His tongue has an odd texture to it, you note, as he shifts his focus to your other breast, and you can’t help but wonder what that tongue would feel like against your clit. You arch into his touch as he kisses along your chest, lightly biting into the soft flesh, leaving dark marks against your skin as he slowly begins moving to his knees, kissing down your body as he goes, pausing at the fabric of your panties and placing a long passionate kiss on the damp fabric before he pulls the delicate material to the side and sinks his tongue into your cunt.

You moan, throwing your head back in bliss as he eats you like a man starved, lapping at your juices with fervour, your hands finding their way back into his soft hair as his tongue works magic against you. He alternates between rolling his tongue around your clit and shoving it as deep inside you as the muscle will go, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You tug on his hair causing him to groan into you, the vibrations making your walls clench as he focuses extra attention on your clit and suddenly the wave of pleasure crests as you climax, your eyes screwed shut and hips moving on their own accord as you all but ride his face through the precipice of your orgasm.

As you come down you open your eyes and look down at him, noting the sound of flesh on flesh and the movement of his arm another white-hot wave of arousal runs down your spine as you realise, he’s stroking himself.

A Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy, on his knees in your office, touching himself while pleasing you with his mouth. The thought alone is almost enough to send you over the edge again.

His glowing red eyes look up at you, and he slowly stands from his position kneeling on the floor. You hold your breath as he rises, trying not to look too eager to get a look at what is between his legs. Do Chiss look like humans? Is he totally alien down there? Your eyes widen as your question is answered, despite the colour and a few, quite pleasurable looking, ridges, he looks remarkably human. Remarkably human and remarkably large.

The vision of the stoic Grand Admiral, still dressed in his white uniform with his trousers open and his rock-hard length on display is enough to make you lick your lips, your pussy clenching around nothing as fresh wave of arousal washes over you.

He takes himself in his hand, stroking himself a few times, placing the blunt head of his cock against your wet entrance before pausing. “A moment” he says as he looks around your office, retrieving your key card from the desk next to you before walking over to the storeroom and taking out the statue he had spoken about before and placing it on the desk next to you before taking his place between your legs at your entrance again.

He places both hands on your hips as he lines himself up with your slick cunt and slowly pushes inside of you. His uniformed chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain his tenuous control over himself. The feeling of his girth stretching you open has you gritting your teeth, and screwing your eyes shut. Each ridge of his cock rubbing perfectly against every nerve making you see stars.

You’re both panting as he bottoms out, a low rumbling groan coming from deep in his chest as the feeling of your walls choking his length has him gritting his teeth as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, even deeper.

He lets out a hiss as he begins moving his hips, you resist the urge to close your eyes at the pleasure, wanting to watch each reaction you could earn from the usually pristine grand admiral. Watching the way his jaw clenches, the muscles around his neck tensing, the way his nostrils flare as he struggles to maintain his composure is like a drug to you.

You moan as his thrusts begin to become more forceful, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the confines of your office. He leans over your body, his lips finding yours again as his hips move with more purpose, harder and faster, the ridges of his girth causing you to cry out, his mouth swallowing your sounds as his pace continues to get more intense, more passionate.

He brings one of his hands down in between your bodies, his long, skilled fingers expertly finding your clit, drawing tight circles over it as he pounds relentlessly into you. The sensations becoming too much too quickly as another orgasm begins building in your core, your muscles tensing around him as your walls flutter and tighten, forcing his mouth to part from yours as he lets out a low moan of your name.

Hearing his voice, full of hunger and desperation moaning your name is what does it for you, pleasure cascades through your body as you wrap your arms around his back to ground you, the course texture of his uniform heightening the experience as wave after wave of pure ecstasy rips a harsh moan of his name from your lips.

His pace becomes even more forceful, his hips slamming almost painfully against yours as he chases his own high. His mouth finds your neck again, biting down as you feel his muscles tense, letting out a long low groan against your neck as he finishes inside you. You feel each throb and pulse of his cock as he fills you, his hips moving in short thrusts as he rides out his own high, his breathing ragged.

You both stay there, panting, bodies entwined as you come down. He gives you a long, passionate kiss before extracting himself, pulling out slowly, he looks down at your cunt, his cum slowly beginning to leak out of you and his mouth quirks again, into that ghost of a smile, like he’s proud of himself, before he moves your panties back into place and begins to straighten himself out.

You have no idea what to say as he tucks himself away and smooths his hair, after a short time, he looks immaculate yet again, barely a hair out of place, nor a crease on his uniform, meanwhile you look like well fucked mess, hickeys and love bites litter your neck and chest as you move off your desk on unstable legs to grab your bra and dress, you pause as you see the small statue, the ‘Pwriss’ as Thrawn had called it sitting on your desk. You blush as you move to put it away in the storeroom again.

Thrawn is standing, back straight as he looks at you from across your office, hands clasped behind his back. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the artwork the gallery has to offer” he inclines his head politely “I’m glad the sculptures were to your liking” you smile at him as you redress.

“Oh yes, I suppose the sculptures were lovely too”.

Not tagging my usual Crosswhore taglist because IDK how many of you are interested in Thrawn, but I'm tagging some people I think might be interested. Let me know if you don't want me to tag you in the future.

@khapikat222 @vibratingbonesbis@al-astakbar

#thrawn smut #thrawn x reader #admiral thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn x reader #thrawnposting #grand admiral thrawn smut #mitth'raw'nuruodo #mitth'raw'nuruodo smut #admiral thrawn smut #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #admiral thrawn

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sweet-honey-tears · 11 months

Text

🧸When They’re Dads🧸

Part two —> part one

Characters: Shoto, Izuku, Dabi x GN!Reader

I’m back! This was kinda requested… idk. I went off the rails a bit with this one. Can you tell I love making Dabi save people who have crappy lives? Cause I do…I fucking love the idea…this darker then my past Dad post. SO IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO CERTAIN TOPICS, don’t read Dabis!!! Ideas are always welcomed, I hope you enjoy.!

Warning: Talk/ mention of child abandonment

❄️ Shoto 🔥

“Hey Hello there Little one.”

“You’re beautiful”

Shoto never really saw himself as someone who would have a family. There was a lot of unaddressed trauma that seemed to make any idea of a family impossible. Yet years later, here he is. Holding his 2nd baby boy, swaddled in a baby blue blanket. And 3 years after, Shotos is holding a baby girl.

Her Small hands grasp mindlessly at long strands of red and white mixed hair.

Funnily enough, all three of your children have different colored hair and refer to your husband in different ways. And it’s honestly adorable.

“Daddy”- youngest who has your hair color and two stripes of a lighter color in the front.

“Dad or Dad-da-da”- middle which has a messy yet beautiful mix of red and white hair.

“Dad” -oldest stark white hair.

Your two boys have found their main priority to be their little sister. After a quirk incident when she was 5- her quirk formed in school- and she started to get bullied. When Shoto was about to step in, his sons did it for him. Quietly and subtly. Threatening the other children with the fact their father was a hero. And their little sister was just as powerful as him. You both do end up talking to them but still… it was fricken adorable

Shoto smiles the day he sees his two sons holding each of their sister's hands, guiding her through the pickup zone to find him.

Shoto doesn't push his kids into anything- encourage, yes.

Shoto is the kind of dad who doesn’t force his kids into any activities. He will offer the idea of his kids doing something but never force them. He will heavily encourage them when they find their passion. Acting like the proudest dad in the world when his little girl does her first solo in dance or his middle gets into the art show. It’s all a big achievement.

You know that whole middle child disappears minds thing? - yeah not a thing. Each child is even, no one is a favorite and NO ONE IS IGNORED.

You’re children know who Toya is- though they don’t really know who Dabi is. Minus that he and their father have a history. But stuff happened…

It happened slowly, the mention of ‘the man’ a walk with your daughter turned to her her talking about her day happily.

“I talked to a nice man! He has fun piercing and he kinda looked like Daddy”

You tell Shoto. Both extremely fearful.

Your middle child comes home one day with a black ring on his finger, his name- which seems to be carefully burnt into it, is written on the name.

Then your oldest, for his birthday got his ears per coed . And not soon after, a small box was left on your porch. “Sorry, I’m late kid.” A pair of white piercings rested inside.

Time passes, and you both notice how the villain Dabi seems to disappear from the news. And the visited from Touya becomes more stagnant. And a few years later, a polorde of a baby girl finds its way to your house… she wrapped in a dark purple blanket. Small horns poking out from her hair. A happy smile on her face… she’s adorable

There is little to no contact with Shotos farther.

They call Izuku- “Uncle Zoo”

🪴 Izuku 🪴

“We’re having a baby!” He starts crying- bawling really!

My man doesn’t care about gender or shit- they are getting All Might stuffy, and there are gonna be pro hero p posters in that nursery. The kid will have a room designed for them, and the minute your child says they have a new hobby, Izuku is on it. He’s buying stuff and researching. Watching videos on how to support your little boy in learning this new American sport he found. And later on, he’s sitting down watching hours upon hours of videos on hair for your little girl.

He also keeps his old hero journals, your children love to look through them. Talking as they mostly look at the pictures in the books.

“Un Might!” Your little girl yells

“Uncle All Might!”

Your children referred to All Might as their uncle almost as soon as they were born. Toshi appears at random for parties and school pick-ups whenever he can. And Izuku can’t lie, it’s fucking awesome.

Inko also is always in and out of your house- she lives rather close actually (courtesy of Izuku wanting to make sure his mother is comfortable and never lonely- she’s a god send when you both need a brake!!).

Izuku knows he can’t always be there, especially with being the new 1 one hero- so it’s no surprise for him to video call and talk to you all.

“I miss you all so much.”

“We miss you too Dad.” Oldest

“Miss ew oo!” Your baby girl babbles, her fingers grasping onto the Pro Hero Deku plushies.

Both kids own one. These are special though, there’s a little voice box built with the toys. Every time the kids squeeze the hand a little message comes out.

“I love you”

There’s a small one of him singing. Telling a short story.

Your Lock Screen is of your two kids opening up the present. Your son looks a bit confused holding up the stuffy while your daughter is already squeezing the toy and giggling. Your husband is standing nervously to the side with a hand on his neck. A somewhat worried but hopeful expression on his face. A large but sweet smile there too.

Izuku doesn’t care if his kids have quirks or not, he’ll love them unconditionally. He’s already taught them how they have a place in the world if they do or don’t have a quirk. How they are no different and just as special.

I imagine the two of you fight over your baby’s first words.

“It’s gonna be Mama/Dadda/Preference”

“No, It’s gonna be BaBa or Zoo”

And then you both look over at your baby babbling and go running over and you just hear an “Ight.” Does that count? No- you won’t count it but you look over at Izuku and this man’s eyes are stars.

“Izuku no-“

“First words”

“ZooZoo no.”

“All Might” he whispers out. And you just smile and shake your head. No, it’s not gonna count, but to Izuku it kinda does.

“Uncle Baky!”

“Unky Shoe!”

“Un’ id-E-uh”

“Auntie Ouch!”

Yes, Bakugou is considered their uncle.

🔥Toya/Dabi🔥

Dabi found your daughter in an abandoned house. Her cries led him to her. She was in the bare minimum for clothes, shivering at the cold air that burst through the broken house. Small arms swung in discomfort at the cold as Dabi approached. Your adopted daughter had small horns at the top of her head. And when her eyes caught Dabi’s, his breath left his chest. Big eyes that were a vibrant blue, almost glowing.

“Holy shit.”

Dabi leaned down and swaddled her in his coat, his quirk activating slightly to try and chase her shivering away. “Shh. Shhh. It’s okay, I got you.” His deep voice rumbled.

He’s the kind of dad that feels like he ain’t really- like it’s supposed to be. He’s like that boyfriend of a single parent- the father figure who’s always there for your kid but isn't the legal father. And when someone brings it up to him, he gets awkward and doesn’t know how to answer. But he’s there at every baseball game and there for the first breakup and graduation.

Dabi doesn’t have much to prepare him for suddenly adopting a child. But he did remember it when the others were little. Watching the adults take care of them all growing up. Watching his mother and sister.

He’s the first to wake up when your daughter starts crying at night. He is already halfway off the bed by the time you open your eyes.

“I got it, Doll.” He rumbles

You sneak into the room, finding him holding your swaddled daughter, her little hands grasping at his sleep shirt. A rumbled voice filled the air.

“The monstersare gone. He’s on the run and your daddy’s here.” His rumbled voice.

Dabi doesn’t say he can sing, he denies he can, but he can. And he only will for your daughter. No. Not even you, just for her. His voice is rough, like really gravely but calming.

He carefully rocks her, the street light illuminating the two of them just perfect to catch both their smiles.

“Beautifull, beautiful, beautiful. Beautiful girl”

He trains his daughter, ensuring she can handle herself in the world. She knows basic ways to defend herself and fight back.

Dabi also take a huge step back from the villain life. The public even takes notices because of the drop.

Dabi doesn’t tell her about her Uncles or Aunts, she finds them one day.

You and your toddler were at the park. You had always had your face covered during attacks. So unlike Dabi, Shig or Toga, you can go into public with no mask or anything. Your sweet daughter was swinging, the evening sky coming to a close. That’s when it happens, you hear someone clear their throat and look up to see Shoto standing there. His eyes are on your daughter.

“Can I help you?” Your tone came off defensive.

“Mama/Pappa/preference, he looks like daddy!” Your toddler happily stated. Oblivious to the tension in the air.

“You must be Da-Toya’s partner.” You pulled your daughter from the swings, pushing behind you, eyes narrowing sharply. “Toya sent a photo a year or two back” Shoto smiles “she’s beautiful” You’re almost confused- you remember when Toya sent the picture, but still. That was years ago. “My youngest made these for you,” he reaches far into one of his pants pockets slowly, and you watch him intensely. Half ready to have your daughter run to the meeting point if this goes south. But Shoto fishes around for a secound more before smiling, apparently finding the object. He pulls out a ziplock bag of string bracelets. They’re slightly knotted together, but otherwise fine. “She made them a few months ago- when Toya dropped off a present for her… I told her I'd pass them to you if I find you.”

And that’s how unofficially-officially play dates between your daughter and Shotos three children started.

And soon, your daughter ‘magically’ met Fuyumi and Natsuo and then Rei. With Toya hidden in the background of course

@thrivingaintmything

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emillyverse · 1 month

Text

Some warnings + Chapter 1 Progress!!!!!

HELLO MY LOVELY STARS!!!

You didn't expect to see me updating KoW so soon, did you???

I usually post updates on Saturday or Sunday, but I'll be traveling so I decided to leave the previews today.

In fact, this trip is the warning I have to give. I will be away from my work desk and my materials for a few days (I don't know exactly how many but between one and two weeks), therefore I will not be able to make progress on the Comic during this period.

This is sad I know. But look on the bright side, I'm going to get a lot of rest and return to work with renewed energy!!!

✨YAYYYYYY !!!✨

Anyway, without further ado, let's get to what everyone wants to see:

THE CONTINUATION OF THE OUTLINES OF CHAPTER 1 OF "THE KINGDOM OF WISHES"

( Written by @annymation , design by @uva124 )

Check out part 1 here.

"The two brothers grew up and, with their father's teachings, became powerful sorcerers."

"But when the big day arrived, Florian was crowned king, as Magnus still didn't feel confident and claimed that something was missing in his life; something that gave him strength and courage!"

"It was then that Magnus met Amaya."

"The most beautiful maiden he had ever seen had been found adrift in a boat and taken shelter in the castle by order of King Florian."

"As a form of gratitude for the hospitality, Amaya began to serve the court as a royal alchemist and, as the days went by, she ended up winning Magnus' heart, finally making him feel like he could do...anything".

"Encouraged by his new love, Magnus decided to travel in search of adventure, leaving the kingdom to prosper in Florian's hands."

"But then, a tragedy happened. When Magnus returned to Rosas he discovered that his brother had passed away due to illness. A painful loss for the entire kingdom, which was made worse by Florian not having legitimate heirs"

"Magnus was moved. He could not let the magnificent legacy of his beloved brother and predecessors end like this."

"Feeling confident with Amaya by your side, Magnus took over the throne and changed the way wishes were granted monthly, doing dozens of them a week, making them float back to your Wish Makers, during the night"

The Kingdom was so happy and grateful that they began to name their new rulers with nicknames that reflected their magnificence and passion, thus making them known as King Magnífico and Queen Amable.

"The end".

Sabino: "I admire your taste in complex stories, Asha, but... Hmm...Don't you think this is too complicated for you?"

Asha: "I thought it was a fantasy book, but it's just romance. Yuck!”

Sabino: "Never judge a book by its cover, darling! What you have here is a history book."

Asha: "But he doesn't explain things very well.Where does Queen Amaya come from? And the king's staff?What disease did Florian die from?"

Sabino: "Well, Asha, let's see..."

"First, the queen is very private about her past, we have to respect that."

"Second. That staff is just a souvenir the king got on his travels."

Sabino: "And third. Sometimes bad things just... happen... without explanation."

"And there's nothing we can do about it."

"Unless you move on..."

To be continued...

FORGIVE FOR ENDING WITH AN ANGUISH DRAWING 🥺🥺

BUT DESPITE THAT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!

And understood. Remembering that, like Anny, I'm Brazilian, but unlike her, I don't understand English and I'm always using Google translate, so maybe there are some mistakes. But Anny and you are always welcome to point out mistakes and correct me!

That's it for today and until after my little vacation Lmao 😅 I'll still be online to answer any questions or curiosities you may have, or simply to see posts and rewrites in which they mark me. I love interacting with this fun and tight-knit community of Wish Concept Art fans!

Anyway, goodbye!!

Kisses full of light and stars!

~Emy

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fromriches-tosin · 2 months

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Fun fact: It's-40°F where I live rn. I'm dying inside haha. Can I get some warm fluffy Reijean from you perhaps? Haha

-40?!?!

My dear friend, the newest chapter of Battle Tendency has some fluff, but it will not suffice, I'm afraid.

Today I was thinking about the ReiJean Cowboy AU, naturally, since we had been blessed with that gorgeous art this week. And hear me out:

Outlaw!Jean and Sheriff!Reiner go a long way back. Their history is one of violence, and blood spilled both fairly and unfairly. Of deception and mutual distrust. Of hatred and... fascination.

Jean might be a criminal, but he's not the worst guy out there. He has a code of sorts, a few simple rules he follows in order to make a living and don't overexert himself too much. He's not too fond of killing but also isn't afraid to get his hands dirty when the job calls for it. He's usually flying solo now that Reiner has caught his best buddy and sent him to a prison far, far away, but that’s okay. He will have Braun's balls for it one day.

And Sheriff Braun himself isn't really that bad, either. He could have had Jean's friend hanged but decided to spare him for reasons unknown. Perhaps Jean even feels a little bit indebted to him because of that. Reiner could have shot Jean a few times, too, but let him off with just a warning instead. And perhaps Jean warned him when some gang was about to raid Reiner's town or when an especially dangerous individual was around. Perhaps he eventually became Reiner's main informant.

It's not that Jean is afraid of competition, you see, he just... enjoys the status quo. He and Reiner have an unspoken deal, a partnership of sorts thanks to which Reiner can protect his town, and Jean can be free. But nothing ever lasts forever, right?

Having learned about what he was up to, Jean’s bandit community turns on him and decides to have him killed. Jean is ambushed at night, somewhere on the plains, and shot three times. Two of the bullets just graze him, but the third one gets stuck in his thigh. He narrowly escapes with his life but he’s in need of urgent medical attention; one he cannot afford both for financial and practical reasons. If he walked into a hospital, he would get arrested.

So, if the law is to come for him anyway, why not meet it half-way? Jean turns up on Reiner’s farm. The Sheriff is living just outside of the town, in the company of three large dogs that start barking and howling as soon as Jean falls off his horse several meters away from Braun’s property. Reiner walks out of the house with a rifle, and for a brief moment Jean thinks that perhaps he’ll just finish what the others started, but Reiner clearly has other ideas.

He helps Jean up and gets him inside the house.

“What happened?” he asks in a gruff voice, putting Jean’s beloved hat aside and taking a closer look at his injured leg.

Here’s a funny thing. Jean and Reiner met many times before. But they never really… talked. Sure, they exchanged some insults, short sentences and playful jabs, but mostly they just stared at each other.

Jean tells Reiner the truth, hoping the intel on the other outlaws will secure him a comfortable prison cell, but Reiner just glares at him in a way that makes Jean shut up mid-sentence. No one has managed that before.

“You’re not going back there,” Braun informs him after he has already destroyed Jean’s pants, cleaned his wound and dug out the bullet from his trembling thigh.

“What?” Jean hisses, trying to drown the pain in the same alcohol Reiner bathed his leg in.

“You’re not going back to where you came from.”

“Here’s to hoping you’ll at least send me to the same prison my friend is in,” Jean grumbles and drinks some more.

(Still there? We’re getting to fluff, I swear)

Reiner glares at him again. He doesn’t cauterize Jean’s wound like Jean expected him to, but instead he carefully sews it shut – making Jean moan and bitch in the process but leaving his leg in a pretty decent shape, all things considered.

Jean gets new clothes and almost a piggyback ride up the stairs. The Sheriff’s bedroom smells and looks surprisingly clean. When he helps Jean lie down, Jean has an impression Reiner himself doesn’t really sleep here. It all seems so… untouched.

“Stay?” he asks in a drunken stupor, holding onto Braun’s sleeve and hoping to turn it into a joke in the morning. “The nights are cold out here.”

The mattress makes a squeaking sound when Reiner gets into the bed – it’s large enough for both of them to lie comfortably and without any physical contact, but Jean is drunk and wants physical contact. There are photos on the bedside table, photos of a lady with blonde hair and a stern look on her face. She seems familiar enough, so Jean decides it must be Reiner’s mother. Perhaps the bedroom belonged to her.

It seems Reiner craves physical contact as much as Jean because he moves closer to him, close enough to be able to brush the hair out of his eyes.

“You need a bath,” he says, and Jean snorts.

“I need a lawyer.”

“I’m not sending you to prison.”

“No?”

“The nights are cold out here, you said so yourself.” Reiner wraps his arms around him, and Jean hums in response. “You’ve come to me of your own volition, so you’re staying.”

The moonlight is getting inside through the big window, falling on the star badge Reiner left on the table. Braun’s nose is buried in Jean’s longish hair, his heavy hand resting just below the bandages on his thigh.

“They’ll kill you if you go back.”

Jean knows that. He didn’t help his case by escaping into the arms of the same man he had been accused of conspiring with.

“I’ll keep you safe.”

Reiner’s deep voice is slowly lulling him to sleep, the weight of the old feather duvet holding him down. There’s a combined smell of soap and wax in the air, and Jean can’t stop himself – he reaches for Braun’s face and runs his fingertips over the stubble on his cheeks.

“Okay,” he says.

He’s drunk. And in pain. And not that young anymore. Maybe he can settle down on a nice little farm in the middle of nowhere and try to befriend Reiner’s dogs.

“Okay. Sleep.”

Braun’s lips brush against his fingers.

Jean feels naked without his gloves, even more so than without his pants. But he also feels good and comfortable, hidden under the covers and additional blankets, and with Reiner’s large frame as an extra source of warmth.

He almost purrs, pressing his forehead against Braun's and smiling at him sleepily. Reiner smiles back.

“That’s it. I’ve always wanted to tame a stray cat.”

#thanks for the ask ✨#reijean #reiner x jean #veecanons #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #reiner braun

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pansy-picnics · 8 months

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Helloooo I just wanted to say that your trans Varian art is very special and comforting to me <3 it gives me warm soft feelings and it always makes my day thank you very much. The little details you include like what he uses to bind and his family supporting him and also him feeling comfortable enough to take his binder off at the end of the day or around certain people just makes me feel so seen and happy <3 I hope you have a lovely day

AUGHHGJGG THANK YOUUUU you have no IDEA how happy these kinds of comments make me,,,, 🥹🥹🥹🥹 i don’t even really identify my gender myself and im definitely not transmasc but varian is just So violently transgender to me and it doesn’t feel right to not portray him that way. i put a lot of effort into my portrayal of it so when ppl say my art makes them feel seen i literally. scream and cry and throw up /pos

and YES you get it omfg…..the little freak plagues my mind constantly he is SO loved and supported by his family. he’s a very practical guy to me so unless he’s going out for work or has visitors or something he can’t really be bothered to get dressed up or bind. he used to when he first started working in the castle,, but now he feels a lot more comfortable there and if he’s just gonna be hanging around at home he’s not gonna go through all the extra effort. and him feeling safe enough to do that is SO important to me!!!!! it makes me so unbelievably happy that people are able to notice all those details and i’m just so,,, oughggghh

ALSO!! the detail of the binder in particular is actually one of my favorite things i haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about it here…..i’m kind of a history nerd also and although tts doesn’t really have a set time period (and i honestly don’t want it to), i enjoy adding in some historical references here in there cuz i just think it makes the world feel a lot more immersive. but heres a fun fact for you if you want to read:

most modern binders are made up of some kind of nylon or spandex, both of which weren’t invented until around the 1930s or 50s. most people use bandages to portray trans characters in fantasy settings, but bandages by themselves wouldn’t really do much unless they were compressive, and compressive bandages as we know them today also weren’t invented until around WW2. THIS is where corsets come in.

corsets get a rlly bad rep most of the time honestly, because for some reason most people are still convinced they were like. medieval torture devices. and they were used to promote a slim silhouette a lot of the time but so were a LOT of other garments!! corsets alone were undergarments worn on a day to day basis, both by rich and working class women and even by some men in the victorian era. they were just used the same way we wear bras today!! it wasn’t any different!!!

but boned garments like this also had the ability to shape and form the body, and though obviously i can’t confirm anyone was making corset binders in the 1800s people have been able to make modern replicas with similar materials that have almost the exact same effect as a modern chest binder, which tells us that it would’ve been completely possible for someone to hide their chest with a corset like garment AND!! it was quite literally PROVEN to us during the 1920s flapper era!!!

i could go on and on about the flapper era and it’s influence on the general social culture but basically, a LOT of inherent gender roles were being challenged, so women were wearing shorter skirts and haircuts, and women’s fashion trends in general started to take on a much more androgynous silhouette to reflect that. a boxy, more boyish shape was actually strived for and a lot of women with larger chests would wear bodices advertised as “bust reducers” to create this appearance, a lot of which were made with similar materials to corsets of the time!!!

they obviously aren’t exactly the same as a binder we would have today but its shockingly similar i think, and it’s just neat to know that people really have been doing this stuff for centuries :’3

#pansy-art #tangled the series #rapunzels tangled adventure #varian #lance strongbow #catalina schnitz #ruddiger #ask #tangled ask #history #pansy rambling again

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princesspython · 3 months

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Here is my sketch of Callisto- A.K.A. the constellation Ursa Major!

As the myth goes, Callisto was a nymph in Artemis's sacred entourage of female hunters. There are many versions of this tale involving how she was tricked, who turned Callisto into a bear, how her son died, and how she died. In fact, some say the myth dates all the way back to prehistoric times.

Callisto, Καλλιστώ, means "Most Beautiful" in greek. Artemis was called 'Artemis Kalliste' - Artemis the most beautiful. Many say this is how Callisto got her name. The ancient city of Arcadia was named after Arcas(Αρκάς), the little bear.

For fun, I based my sketch on Epiphany from Xena the Warrior Princess, who also has an animal son and a tragic story.

Well, that's my art and history rant! 🐍💕

I hope you enjoyed!

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munchkinmarauder · 2 months

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My review of Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver

Overall I'll give it a generous 4/5 stars and I'm excited to see where this series takes up but I do have some gripes with it

Also lots of stuff from Orlando's AITP X-Men Monday interview pops up so check it out as we may have some hidden clues on what's next

Spoilers below

Overall a good set up issue with some fun moments. Some of my fears were exaggerated but some of those expected fears did mean I didn't enjoy the issue as much as I hoped. However I'm fault happy overall and keen for the rest of the series

The good-

- a series with the twins as coleads has been long overdue. I'm so happy to see it finally happen. Fun fact this is the first marvel series to be headlines by a sibling duo.- for the most part the twins dynamic and fight felt like a proper sibling fight. You could feel the weight of their long history and the multitude of things left unsaid and resentments.

- it's nice to see Wanda being the one clearly at fault for a fight between them for a change

- while the twins are little orange I appriciate the commitment to showcasing the twins as visible people of colour. It was long needed. I do think they (and Luna and Tommy should be more visibly brown). I also am enjoying the art and the use of the vibrant colours in general.

- I like the mystery being set up with why the twins are being targeted and the twist that while Magneto did write the letter he wasn't the one who sent it. I'm not as curious at the letter contents as I thought I would be. It seems he's being cruel because he's a dick to Pietro but let's see. I also really am excited to know why it's both twins and the combination of them together that has the giver upset. Lore and power upgrade for born twins? I hope so. Wanda being a universal threat is a given so I am way more curious about what they'll do with Pietro

- I think it was a good move to make a joke about is or isn't Magneto the bio dad at the start and shoot it down. I would love for the retcon to be undone I just don't think it has a place in this story about the bond between the twins. Magneto doesn't need to overshadow the series more than he has already for what it's worth I do think the comics are leading up to a Magnet fam reunion with most of its members appearing in major comics this year.

- it being acknowledged that Magneto was cruel to Pietro, killed him and treated the twins unequally. I have gripes with this I'll set out below but given how biased Orlando is towards Magneto this was good to see.

- the Luna, Tommy and Monet cameos made me so happy! I'm glad Orlando seems fond of Luna and I hope she and Monet join Tommy in helping Pietro. Even if the ladies are just cameos it's still a nice touch.- I liked the contrast where the fuming twins lash out with their powers. Wanda destroys her shop and Pietro is ranting but checking up on loved ones while he does so. They are each others ying and Yang.

- we're lucky the Wizard is a drama queen cause his snipers seem pretty competent and if they'd used regular bullets this series would be automatically over lol. I do also think the Wizards team called Pietro to upset him. Futher and not Wanda to ensure the twins wouldn't be able to contact each other.

The bad

- the writing for Wanda was better than Pietro. This feels more like a Wanda series so far but it's early days so let's see. Even though Wanda is the one initially in the wrong she seems to be treated more sympathetic by the narrative and of course she has more page time than her brother.

- Pietro's past appearances in SW made me a bit unsure about how Orlando will write Pietro, his takes in the comic themselves are quite superficially though he talks about Pietro very passionately in Interviews. Nothing really changed that opinion here.

- we didn't get enough of the twins interacting and this is supposed to be a series about their relationship. It would have been nice to have a little more of them getting along so the fight felt more impactful. An infinity comic with the two might have been a good idea.- I hate the Pietro fears Wanda thing Orlando introduced as well as the Pietro manipulated Wanda for HoM. I don't think Steve actually read that comic because Wanda herself in that comic said all her brother was doing was protecting her cause the X-Men and Avengers wanted to kill her and Magneto was willing to let them. Having Wanda say this was off-putting. Had it been purely in angry it would be somewhat forgivable but Orlando has expressed this sentiment in his other SW books

- Orlando's insistence on the adopted family angle and portraying Magneto as a complicated but good man who took the twins in with Wanda as the worshipful daddies girl and the victim blaming as Pietro was cold to him. That man was abusive to both his children. He would let them die for his cause and had abandoned them multiple times. Wanda pre retcon had many an issue and gripe with him. The twins are justified in their issues with him and no one should have to forgive their abusers. Magneto is a fascinating character and I loved the pre retcon dynamic with the twins as it was so tragic and full of irony and it only really works if theyre blood related. This painting of them as a happy chosen family is detrimental to all characters involved.

#pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff #quicksilver #maximoff twins #magnet family #monet st croix #tommy shepherd #Luna Maximoff #Darcy Lewis #scarlet witch & quicksilver (2024)#scarlet witch and quicksilver #quicksilver and the scarlet witch #Quicksilver #scarlet witch #magneto #erik lensherr

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loveemagicpeace · 2 years

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🌞🏝Sun and your purpose

Sun represents your inspiration and purpose. Things that inspire you and are close to you. Things that give you hope and light in life. Your great joy. Where do you enjoy yourself and in what way? It also represents the purpose you have. Where should you shine and where will you shine the most in life. Your bright ways and points. What drives you forward and what gives you light. You will find light where you have the sun! Follow the sun🌞🌊🦋

🌞Sun in 1st house- empowers a person with strong will and determination. They should be more knowledgeable of who they really are if they want a purposeful and meaningful life. Your journey is one of continual self-discovery. Along the way, you are likely to gain greatest recognition by forging your own path.

✨Sun in 2nd house- your purpose is to find your value, to enjoy beauty & beauty things. It’s important for these natives to appreciate the value of people and relationships, not only the one of wealth. You have to find a path that will have a balance between you and material things. Your challenge is to learn to trust the flow of resources available to you, knowing when to let go and when to share what you have gained.

🥝Sun in 3rd house- Your purpose is to tell people something, to leave a message. To put words into something meaningful. They are sharp yet upright and filled with a high sense of ambition and pride. The natives are also endowed with a stable strong will which makes them self-reliant. You may enjoy gathering data, ideas, information and facts, which you then disseminate freely. Your challenge is to learn to focus yourself on what is in front of you in order to develop your understanding.

🌟Sun in 4th house- You will find inspiration with your family and your goal is to make a comfortable life for yourself. They plan their life ahead and are great at developing strategies for themselves. They become better with age because their true self comes to display as they get older. You may find that your family life matters more to you than your professional world, and find yourself making choices that prioritise home. You may also be fascinated by heritage and history.

🥥Sun in 5th house- You will find your purpose and inspiration in things that are fun for you. Dancing and playing can bring you a lot of luck. Enjoying your own happiness. You will feel the best when you are spotlight. Sun here will also endow the natives with some special abilities. Presenting yourself and your talents is your purpose. Show who you are.

🌴Sun in 6th house- Your purpose is to serve others. You will be happiest when you help others. Animals can be very close to your heart and give you a lot of inspiration. Health will be important to you, following a healthy lifestyle and routine will fulfill your life. You may also be drawn to nutrition, health and healing. In time, you learn to teach others the art of refinement, self-improvement and organization.

🍰Sun in 7th house- relationship and marriage will be a big part of your life. Your purpose and inspiration is to find someone with whom you can share your happiness. Pursue romance and share romance with others. Justice is very important to you and proving the truth and sharing the truth with others is important to you.

🦋Sun in 8th house- The arena of power and transformation. With the Sun in the Eighth House you may find yourself driven to understand the depths of your own nature so that you come to terms with the power you hold within. Understanding the depth and following the depth of emotions is meaningful for you. You will feel the best in the depth of your emotions. The transformation will be great for you. You may also be fascinated by mysteries, psychology and magic. By facing the truth about yourself and others you teach transformation and the capacity to redefine challenging situations.

🏖Sun in 9th house- your purpose is to give something to the world, to understand the psychological aspect of life. Traveling can give you a lot of inspiration. Maybe you feel the best when you travel. Maybe you have a favorite place that you always want to go to. When you believe in something, it is like a meaning in your life. I think that these people are meant to live in foreign country because there they will find what they are looking for. You seeing life as a source of opportunities. You may be fascinated by travel and foreign places, seeking to discover what else exists in the world. Your challenge is to develop discernment about what you believe, and to accept present limitations.

🍹Sun in 10th house- You are gifted with an innate ability to manage or lead. You remind others of the need to be accountable through taking responsibility for yourself. Your purpose is to become something. Living the seen life. It’s like they’ve been born for nobility and for inspiring others to be greater people. You will find your inspiration through your career and audience.

🐚Sun in 11th house- makes for someone who is extremely open-minded, with a soft spot for underdogs and humanitarian efforts. They also likely value originality and being different and are interested in meeting all kinds of different people. Your inspiration are your friends. They will make you feel your best. It’s like their energy is obtained with the help of their friends, so the support of others is of utmost importance for them. Also couldn’t be happy with only one or two people around them.

🌊Sun in 12th house- Your purpose is to find the subconscious and confront it. Inspiration is found in spirituality. Having this special inner world makes them great artists. Your subconscious mind can help you understand yourself better. Maybe you will feel the best when you are alone, doing something that will bring you joy. Your purpose is to spend time alone. Anything related to astrology and spiritual things will give you greater joy. Maybe also something to do with water or ocean.

-Rebekah🌊🐚🏖🦋

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrology observations #astrological houses #sun purpose #sun #sun in houses #spiritual #inspiration #finding meaing

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moonshine-nightlight · 1 year

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Hi, I'm always very impressed by your world building skills, even in shorter stories! Do you have any advice for aspiring writers on how to build their fantasy world?

So i drafted a response to this in between working just far too much and then my computer crashed and i lost it. Then i was even busier so i never got around to writing it again but i am making some time this weekend, so worldbuilding post - take 2

My main, high level worldbuilding tips are:

Rule of Cool: worldbuild things you think are fun and interesting. not only is that the best way to get ideas you like and are motivated to write about, but other people will also think they're interesting too. have fun with it.

Iceberg theory: know more about the world than ever makes it into the story. people can sense when worldbuilding is shallow, so even if they never see the true depths of the world they can often sense it's there. plus if u know the whole picture, everything the readers do see will seem more coherent

Integration: i heavily integrate the world i'm building into the story i'm telling--so dig into the plot and characters and make sure that the world and the story serve each other well. your world is there to contribute to the story so make sure its fulfilling that purpose

For more specifics about how i personally world build and for some examples from my stories of the above guidelines, see below.

So firstly, i love worldbuilding. i just think its a ton of fun and could easily spend hours just thinking about worlds in my head. (i mean what else is there to do when ur commuting to work, amiright?) i think that does make it easier for me to take the time to do it right and makes the world come through more vividly in my writing. it can get annoying or tedious or be more challenging at times, but since i like it/find world building interesting, i'm more willing to put in the time and effort to whip it into shape and i get less frustrated with that part of the process in general.

i'm also always thinking about world building to some degree in the back of my mind. picking up interesting information, facts, snatches of cool ideas or images or whatever. then i throw all that in like a junk drawer in my brain so when i sit down to more officially write or flesh out a world, i already have spare parts at my finger tips to use or drawn on.

Reading and consuming other art and worlds also makes it easier to make your own, just lik reading is a key part of writing practice. i don't just mean fiction, but just anything about the actual world makes it much easier to make up your own--that can manifest as awe at the fireflies that actually exist or spite that dragons dont. Whether that's random youtube video essays about the history of musicals or drinks or fashion to books and articles and documentaries or just my friend's niche interests (or their regular jobs). i'm always taking worldbuilding notes in the back of my mind.

For a more writing specific example, i read this short guide '50 Ways to Kill a Mermaid' (its locked for AO3 so u hav to sign in to read it) and it was super fun and cool to read that info from a writer who had studied marine biology. then when i was fleshing out Don't Shoot the Messenger a year later, the problem of Satrasi being a sea demon in a fresh water pool and bloating came to my mind because i'd stored that tidbit from the article away for later use.

My personal method for worldbuilding and plot outlining is sort a brainstorming/Q&A i have with myself (i hope this makes sense when i'm done writing this all out lol).

I've mentioned this before but the prompt that inspired Dale was: "You’re pretty sure your boyfriend was replaced by an eldritch being that can barely emulate being human. Weirdly, you enjoy a better relationship with them than your actual boyfriend."

So when that idea grabbed me, i started brainstorming about the world and asking myself questions. Why is the reader with the boyfriend if they don't really like them? What would make someone stay in a relationship like that? Do i want to make this a dark story? And i did not, i wanted it to be fun, so the arranged marriage angle came to mind. And if that's the premise then when is the story? is this our 'past' or another world entirely? diff world means more freedom so i automatically leaned in that direction.

Can the reader tell the 'boyfriend' has been replaced? Are demons a thing people know about? does the reader know that's an option? which is more fun? if the reader is worried about Dale getting caught, that's more room for hijinks so then yes, demons are known, but not common otherwise too many people would notice.

So my plot and worldbuilding are evolving in tandem and informing each other, based on the type of story i want to tell and how the characters i have in mind will react etc.

i run through a lot of ideas and turn them over in my head--trying out diff pieces to see if they fit--and am always willing to drop an idea or save it for another story if i don't think its working for the current one

For iceberg theory, i mentioned above for Dale would be the religions in that world. When i decided to introduce a priest like character (for discovery danger) i knew i needed to focus more on the religions than i previously had noted. the majority of what i came up with isn't int he story, but i think the fact that i know it helps me write when did end up in there, helped make it consistent, and means i can more easily work in allusions to it without having to work so hard those singular times.

For example, i'd decided to call the demon realm "the Depths" early on, which to me already invokes deep water and darkness, so i followed that through to sort height and air and light as being perceived more positively. fire and light are important symbols in this world and they primarily burn their dead--to bury someone below ground would be seen as almost condemning them and someone drowning is also seen as like, not good for their soul because what if it is 'pulled down' rather than 'ascending'. some of this was alluded to in the chapter, but most of it is not. this also helped me come up with the various "by the light" "dawn's ire" and other similar little 'religious' phrases and exclamations different characters use at times.

Meanwhile, in Sacrifice, the people living their are relatively non-religious--thats why they both don't pray to any other deities and it takes 5 years of problems to even bother trying an old god. it's not sacrilege because they're desperate people trying a long shot, not violating or abandoning a different belief. because i wanted the reader's main problem with it all to just be that they didn't think it work.

And why is she a translator? because i wanted to use the idea from that one post that goes around about how ridiculous it is in movies when their translated prophecies rhyme in english. why are they arguing about the translation? because its a dead language so no one really speaks it, that means the people who came up with it were here a century ago or longer. why aren't they here anymore? nomadic so they left and ended up staying away because of a natural disaster elsewhere. why is this town here now? a particular export/resource in this area became valuable enough for people to try to live here. the fact that its a lumber town due to some rare wood native to the area doesn't come up in the story, but i know it and i think that i know that about the town helps it feel more real, makes it easier for me to reach for new details when i need them

and going back to anything can be inspiration, let's talk about the doorlock in the very beginning of Finally Woken. its literally just a magical keypad/number pad but with different colored tiles instead of numbers because i wanted the reader to be able to get in, but i felt it didnt make sense for them to hav a physical key. and i thought it would look cool in Heshi's door and it went well with the fact that he's a glassblower . also, why is Heshi a glassblower? because i frickin' lov blown glass - i just think its so cool and pretty. that helped lead into the sort of artisan economy feel that world has.

Each of these stories has an outline and notes doc at a minimum. the notes doc is where i throw lik pics, inspiration posts, random worldbuilding ideas etc. only much shorter stories or stories that are heavily based in 'modern' world don't hav extensive random notes.

my Dale folder has subfolders for characters and the setting, as well as random worldbuilding files such as "demon summoning/magic" "spiritual belief and org" "fashion - feminine" and so on. Even excluding the plot outline and chapter notes (and not counting pics) i've got like, over 4k of random notes saved. dale is the one i hav the most of that for, but all my fics have some little section with stuff like that jotted down

in the end, i think the best way to sum up all that is with my three original rules of: put stuff u think is cool in your world, known more than you tell to help everything fit together and seem deep, and build your world around your plot and characters because they should all be working together to tell the story you want to tell.

honestly, i could ramble about worldbuilding all day so if anyone has any questions or wants more examples, just let me know ^^

#asks #writing asks #story asks #man did i apparently really want to talk about anything that isn't work or what?#this is why 'rambling' is in my other tumblr username #worldbuilding #fantasy world building #world building #i really do enjoy world building a lot #writing #i rly hope this made some sense #sorry for the delay in answering #i'm still kinda salty my original answer got eaten by my computer #look sometimes ur worldbuilding is because you learned a lot about operetta in a documentary #sometimes its because the idea of a secret corset busk knife is cool #ur guess as to what's gonna show up in dale next #but one of them will and yes that is a threat

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tanoraqui · 6 months

Note

hey!! i love your blog so much your takes are *chefs kiss*

i saw an Amazing post a few months ago where someone laid out a really cool plan for a silmarillion tv show and i cant find it again. it haunts my every waking moment. i think i saw it on your blog so i figured id ask if you knew it.

Either way, have a great day!

(note: I got this ask several thousand years ago, and am answering it now because I asked my roommates if I should write something serious tonight, or something ridiculous, or read a book; and they said ridiculous.) (note 2: I wrote the above several days ago. I'm posting at 6.5k words) (note 3: I'm going to pretend this is a deliberately timed gift to @thelordofgifs for their latest fic updates, which were bullet points of heartfelt and sober compelling canon divergence. this...is bullet points of [heartfelt? compelling?] lunacy. I hope you might enjoy it.)

Are you thinking of this, the "Supernatural but make it Silmarillion lore, and also women" show of my dreams? (Me, approaching the Tolkien estate with an offer for the rights to the Silmarillion: I swear, I will ONLY show the First Age in limited flashbacks. Everything else will be the characters as they are at least 10,000 years later, maybe even with an active framing device to identify them as modern interpretations of the characters...")

Oh huh, I forgot I thought a bunch more about that "teeechnically-not-AU" and never added it to that post. Regardless of whether it's the show you were thinking of, dear Anon:

one of the protagonists is definitely the reincarnation of Fëanor. Her name is Seraphina, which translates to something like "fiery divine being", bc her mom had a good sense of these things. They don't know this at first

her slightly older twin sister is Martha, named after their grandmother but it does mean the feminine of "master", because I spent at least an hour trying to translate any name Turin ever had into something reasonably modern and this is the best I could do (they also don't know about this reincarnation at first, ofc)

their father was killed by some sort of monster when they were babies so their mother took up monster-hunting ranging, etc. etc.

(the underground community of modern monster-hunters are called Rangers, in reference to the roaming heroes of old)

Seraphina, the Wild One(TM), ran away to go to college, where she double-majored in astrophysics and mechanical engineering and double-minored in linguistics and metallurgical engineering, and wrote an art history thesis. Martha, the Dutiful One(TM), stayed with their mother and kept ranging. They reunite when Martha shows up on Phina's doorstep because "Mom went on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days", etc. etc.

the Bobby-style substitute parent should really, to (kind of) round this out, be a dwarf or hobbit. The full "Team Free Will" should represent all peoples of Arda... But I'm not making up OCs right now (yet)

a unifying legend of the Ranger community is that their unofficial network has been supported and guided for millennia by their cousins, the peredhel, Elrohir and Elladan, who quite simply never Chose and have been wandering the earth, saving people and hunting things, ever since their sister died. They don't NEED to Choose until they die, technically!

This is, in fact, true - or, it was. Until about 25 years ago, when [flips a coin] Elrohir married our heroes' mother, settled down into peaceful domesticity, and a few years later died dramatically to buy [throws a dart at a wheel of names] Laura and their children time to escape the whatever.

Laura knew about his profession and that he was older than he looked, but not his whole deal. She found that out later while vengefully hunting monsters...and never told her daughters.

The plot of Season 1 involves unravelling this mystery, including at some point meeting their elusive uncle Elladan (who has maybe gone a little mad with the sudden death of his twin? That'd be a fun season antagonist/arc/theme...dealing with grief...very topical!)

By the end of s1, all of the above have probably had a nice closure-giving(-ish) confrontation/conversation with Elrohir's ghost - who's been waiting in Mandos for his wife and/or brother despite Mandos's INCREASINGLY strident blandishments to stop acting like a cat in a doorway and choose - and Laura and Elladan are both dead in suitably dramatic circumstances.

...or, Elladan is. Apparently John Winchester didn't die until s2e1! So, what happens is:

- (earlier in the s1 finale episode, Laura, noticed something once or twice which her daughters didn't - saw a curl of smoke, seemed to be examining a McGuffin extra closely...)

- Laura has been mildly injured, and someone needs to guard a McGuffin or maybe a random innocent civilian caught up in this, so she stays behind while Phina and Martha go off to deal with whatever the actual big bad of the season is. Maybe a cult trying to sacrifice half-elves for some reason? Directed, though not personally managed, by whatever killed Elrohir in the first place, which is...I gotta figure an OC balrog? Like, not one of the big ones from canon. We'll just call her (Laura's) Bane henceforth.

- not long later, while Phina and Martha are fistbumping in the remains of the cult's hideout Seraphina maybe have used chemical explosives), or maybe discretely looting Elladan's body for useful weapons laying their uncle to rest, the scene cuts back to Laura

- she's pacing, patrolling. Ready for a fight. She senses something and goes even tenser, drawing her ancient sword. It glows softly blue - but this is no orc. Heavy footsteps, flickering shadows and firelight, maybe the sound of wings. We do not see the enemy, just a middle-aged woman in improvised combat gear with a pistol in one hand and a Gondolin-made sword in the other, and a look of iron determination and defiance. She pulls off the bandage on her arm, revealing that she'd faked her injury so the girls would leave her behind.

- "I knew it was you," she greets her old enemy, unflinching, as a faint reprise rings unnoticed in the Great Music. She moves to attack, met by a whip-crack and a flash of fire, and cut to black.

Season 2 starts where s1 ended, for Martha and Seraphina. They're almost back at their car (the beloved 1967 Chevy Shadowfax). Note: few times in s1, Phina has had strange visions or nightmares, never anything prophetic but once a good clue to defeating the MotW...

She reels with the force and horror of this one. Darkness, utter and choking, pierced eventually by a single desperate torch. A dark and empty hall where there should be life and light. Flickering firelight reveals blood on the floor...

She gasps, "Mom," and demands that Martha drive, drive, fucking drive faster already -

They're too late, of course. Laura is long-since dead.

...so, back to Monster of the Week, with additional focus on tracking down the Bane!

Seraphina's strange dreams and visions get more frequent, more memorable. Sometimes they're peaceful, full of beautiful Light. More often they're dark, or at least, dim - climbing strange, starlit mountains (finding a cousin of aconite which turns out to also be useful for defeating werewolves). Choking grief as her hand brushes the air just above a vibrant tapestry, too afraid to ruin it with touch. Fire in her throat as she shouts world-shaking words in a language she doesn't remember (she repeats them a moment later, fending off a corrupted wind-spirit, and it flinches even before Phina feels a burst of vicious, raging, burning strength.)

Seraphina is curious as hell and keeps pushing herself to learn more, see more. Do more. It's not just visions, eventually - she starts to read minds, here and there. She's always been a fidgeter, happiest with some petty creative task of wire and beads or yarn in her hands, but now she can swear that sometimes her craft supplies sing at times, directly surpassing her ears, and she can make things with quality, with power. A new-knitted scarf is sturdy as a gorget. Glass beads glow. The more Phina does, the more she's frustrated rather than satisfied - she knows she's missing something, and she HATES being ignorant. Being wrong.

Martha, always the responsible one, especially feeling the need to be so now that their mom has died, wishes she would stop. Wishes she wouldn't put herself, put both of them, in danger like this. Martha is literally game to fight an orc with her fists one on one, any day of the week; she's no stranger to a quick temper and impulsive action. But she grew up! Why can't her sister!

(Martha: [venting the above to a stranger in a bar or something. Meanwhile, Seraphina has found an medieval Songbook and is trying to, like, apply principals of Elvencraft to chemical engineering. more arguing ensues.])

Toward the end of the season, there's, idk, several murders at the site of a geothermal drilling experiment in the North Sea, and oh shit, Bane is trying to get something that came out of that drill shaft! Violent interrogation of some evil minions reveals that it's no less precious thing than a Silmaril! Our heroes read about those recently in some ancient tome! (Phina got a headache so bad, and a sense of being aflame, that she passed out.)

In the third-to-last episode of the season, they hunt the Silmaril to the unlucky random research facility to which it's been taken. Mundane authorities and/or scientists are already coveting it as a potential energy source, adding extra mooks...who mostly just die when Laura's Bane arrives. But our girls get to it just slightly faster. The jewel is in a jead-lined box. Phina has been increasingly consumed by single-minded focus on getting this thing; even as the Ban storms in all fire and darkness, she's furiously picking the lock. She flings back the lid; we see a shining gold-white jewel - and the Light consumes the screen.

The second-to-last episode starts with pure Light - then it fades to simple Mingling, as the Noldor hold a funeral for Miriel. They had rites for the fallen in their starlit home of old, when they knew no return. They are having a modified version now, knowing that in her weariness she will, at least, take a very long time; in the hope that it will help those who loved her move through their grief.

- young Fëanor (age 5ish), tears running down his cheeks, whispers to his father that he is sorry, so sorry he killed her. Finwë denies it fiercely, lovingly, and holds him tight. Indis approaches, seeking to offer comfort; Finwë sees her over Fëanor's head and, gratefully, shakes his head. She retreats.

- but in the next memory, it is Fëanor (age 10ish) who watches Finwë and Indis, as they move joyously in unison around their wedding dance floor. Someone says something to him, he responds bitterly.

- (I'm not sure exactly what narrative of Fëanor's life I want to construct here, but assume subsequent memories/short scenes include: dislike of half-siblings (ft. fear of loss/abandonment masked as superiority complex), finding genuine joy and contentment in craft, exploration, and Nerdanel & their children; Melkor & rising tensions with Fingolfin, the Silmarils, the sword Incident, banishment (ft. savage dislike of Valar), Finwë's death (the same memory that struck when Laura died!), the Oath, Alqualondë, the theft and burning of the ships...and Amrod...and shortly thereafter, Fëanor himself, in a rush that only wasn't suicide because he really thought he could bust in and kill a Vala right up until he realized he absolutely could not do that.)

- (very fast final montage of key events post death, only snapshots, maybe styled as tapestry seen from Vairë's Halls? Fingolfin, crowned, raising Maedhros from a bow and embracing him; the glorious hosts and castles of the Noldor, Dagor Bragollach, Fingolfin's death, Doriath & Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin's deaths, Sirion & Amras's death (both with the Silmaril evading them in the background), Morgoth's defeat by Host of the West with Eärendil shining far overhead, the final attack/theft, Maedhros's death, Maglor flinging the third into the sea and collapsing)

- camera close on Seraphina's face as she opens her eyes. They are shining with Light. She says, "Fuck."

FINAL EPISODE OF S2 STARTS WITH:

- a few second earlier: Martha sees from across the room as Phina opens the box and a joyous Light shines forth, and her sister collapses. The Silmaril falls and rolls.

- Martha doesn't have time to see where it rolls, because she has to fight the monster that killed both her parents. We've seen Laura's Bane in the shape of a woman with cavern-black hair and fiery eyes a few times before, and when it killed Laura and Elrohir, we glimpsed much more. But 2 episodes ago was the first time we saw it in all its terrible, burning darkness. The building is falling apart around it. There were a couple security guards and a scientist here; they're dead within moments.

- like her mother, Martha started out with a gun and a sword. She quickly gives up on the gun - it IS a special magic gun, but she's just better with a sword. She's snarking at the monster as she fights, because this is a gritty urban fantasy show so she's going to die, but by Eru she's going to die with sarcasm on her lips.

- the Bane's whip finally catches her around the wrist. It's not clear if it's the pain of the break or the burn that makes her drop her sword. The Balrog steps over it and grabs her by the throat. Darkness enwraps her, the searing, choking claws and the all-encompassing wings and the swallowing of her vision -

- Light pierces it like a blade. The Balrog falls back, dropping Martha to the floor.

- there stands her sister, Silmaril raised, almost glowing herself with its Light. Her eyes blaze with the particularly fiery Light that was always Fëanor's.

- Power in her voice, in English she says, "I am Seraphina Elrohiel [cool epithet she's picked up as a hunter]"; in the most traditional lisping Quenya she adds, "and I am Fëanáro Finwë-Curufinwë." English again: "I wrought this jewel five ages of the world ago…and to be honest, I don't really know what I can do with it now."

- - (the soundtrack crescendos, the Music crescendos; unseen, all around Arda and beyond, beings tuned into the Great Song of Ëa know that Fëanor once again holds a Silmaril, and go oh, shit, fuck!!)

- she smiles, fey and burning. "Do you think it's a good idea to stay and find out?"

- Laura's Bane flees with a snarl.

- Martha gets to her knees, and no further. She's panting, still catching her breath, bleeding and bruised and burned, and staring up at her incandescent sister(?).

- Seraphina (who is, has always been, Fëanáro Curufinwë) stays standing and glaring for a moment more, making sure the enemy has truly gone. Then -

- - [note: it came up, in their hasty recent recent research into the Silmarils while chasing them, that they are blessed such that evil hands can't touch them. they'd hoped this would be protection against the Bane, if they got there too late to stop it]

- - [note: in the very very brief memory-views of Maedhros and Maglor's last moments, it was clear that their grips on the Silmarils were agony]

- Phina falls to her knees, Silmaril dropping from her hand without protest. Once again it rolls offscreen, glow faded but still bright. All force of presence gone, she cradles her burned hand and sobs in agony and irreparable loss, not to mention the sheer overwhelming experience of everything.

- older sister instincts (again: despite the fact that they're twins) gets Martha moving when nothing else did. Still not actually sure what just happened, she crawls forward and hugs her sister.

...then they get out of there. Martha picks the Silmaril up carefully with a piece of cloth and puts it back in the lead-lined box, and Phina carries the box. For the rest of the episode, they hunt down Laura's Bane before it can escape them utterly - unless it tries to come back and get the Silmaril while they're still off-balance, which is entirely possible! Either way, they kill it so dead!

Season ends with the two of them sitting in a dingy motel room, or maybe back in the Shadowfax [car], staring at the Silmaril box. Martha says, "So...what do we do with this?" Phina says, "We find out what the hell happened to the other two!"

IN SEASON THREE...

...I stop having particularly coherent ideas for what happens, is what happens in season three

honestly, I was originally conceiving of this as 5 seasons a la Supernatural didn't it have a great show finale in 2010? so great. thank goodness they didn't make 10 more seasons for some canonically godforsaken reason. But Fëanor retrieving even just one Silmaril would so kick off an s4 level of divine intervention and incipient apocalypse...

I dunno, or maybe they CAN have a full season of Monster of the Week plus arcing plot which is half standard hunting, half various supernatural entities tracking them down either to steal the Silmaril or to kill Fëanor (again) for her many crimes?

They retrieve 1 Silmaril that season, while evading, idk, I guess Sauron is our Lilith equivalent... And it WOULD be fun to have s4 start with Martha kicking open Mandos's doors (she's holding 2 Silmarils; she can kick open whatever doors she wants) and demanding her obnoxious sister back...

(We COULD do a thing where the Valar deliberately put Fëanor back asap, but lbr they...would probably rather not, even if they need her alive to do certain things. On the other hand, if they did, what a fun conflict for her! On the third hand, SOMEONE has to Lúthien the other's Beren at least once - not that Martha is singing. She's going more for the 'threatens Ainur with swords' side of her heritage.)

(That WOULD create a fun 'Martha has been doing increasingly badass and angsty shit offscreen (while Seraphina was dead)' scenario that could lead smoothly into some flashbacks about what Martha was doing before the show started - namely, increasingly badass (and angsty) shit while Seraphina was in college...)

Because in terms of focus, the first 2 seasons are a little more about Seraphina. Having not Ranged for a while, she's more the audience's pov character to start, and then the big plotty drama is focussed on her in s2...and in s3, as they hunt the next Silmaril and she adjusts to being... That is, Fëanor adjusts to being...

She was Fëanor for a MUCH longer time than she's been Seraphina, but she's been Seraphina more recently and kinda more...vividly? She hasn't fully processed being Fëanor. Her hröa is human (and female-shaped and human-female-gendered, and elves don't define gender the same way and don't have gendered pronouns at all, so she's sticking with 'she/her' and it's not a big deal), and her fëa has been acting human, so her memory capacity is still mostly human, as are her reflexes, her need for sleep, etc... She's getting better, but it takes time.

But boy has this enhanced ALL of Seraphina's natural attention-seeking, forward-leaping, fight-starting, prideful, self-centered Protagonist(TM) behavior!

Which is driving Martha CRAZY, all the moreso because there's reason for it now. Aside from the fact that even with no memory of her past life, Seraphina was always brilliant, while Martha was just...normal at best. Clumsy and un-witty except with a weapon in her hand. Prone to sulking and shyness. Downright unlucky, while the universe seems to shower blessings on her sister.

Even when Fëanor is trying not to start a fight, she's so condescending. to her sister who is a mere mortal Man. Having been one for 25-odd years - still being one, in fact - Fëanor has lost much of her suspicion of Man as an usurping species (it was never really about Men anyway). But she's SO condescending.

(Martha IS her sister, still. Martha can hold the Silmaril without the Oath pushing Seraphina to burning wrath, because she is Fëanor's kin.)

(Though "Fëanor's kin" was only ever a stand-in for, roughly, "people Fëanor could trust to temporarily hold a Silmaril because he knew they'd give it back to him instantly if he asked." So, as the rift deepens between then, as she grows paranoid again...)

...returning to the point above: as Seraphëanor steps up as Person Who Can Explain Advanced Supernatural Shit, audience pov connects a little more with Martha. Also because Fëanor's radius of destruction is really fun to watch from the outside.

Yeah...Seraphina gets pretty high up her own ass over the course of s3, then dies, maybe heroically or maybe as foolishly as last time, then post-season hiatus smash cut to Martha kicking in Mandos's front door and dragging her back to life... I do love that.

SEASON FOUR...

After the shock wears of, the classic Fëanorian paranoia isn't helped by the fact that Martha IS keeping secrets. What she's been doing, who she's been doing it with...(some Maia, maybe even an Úmaia?) Though Arda's mythology doesn't have the same Heaven/Hell dichotomy as Earthly Christianity, so alaos we can't have the sexy sexy s4 thing of an angel on one sister's shoulder and a devil on the other's...

But basically I think s3 has to have been somewhat of a tragedy, as Túrin (unknowing) and Fëanor (just bad at this) played out their old tragedies in tandem. Rashness was often the undoing of both. Leaping to conclusions, action or both, though usually in opposite directions. With maybe a dash of parallels with ancient (ie, Second Age) Elf vs Man conflict - Martha is increasingly down on herself, but also, jealous of Seraphina's Protagonist Energy and increasingly ready to do some violence about it.

And none of that resolves in s3! Seraphina just gets killed!

So in s4, they have to figure it out. Seraphina needs to learn some sort of (gasp) humility, and how to let grievances (and loved ones) go. Martha needs to learn how to cope with regret and grief with means other than changing her name and moving to a different city.

(She's already starting, though! This time, she asked "what would Seraphina do', then broke into Mandos and demanded solutions!)

(...and Mandos, perhaps, was very ready to refuse until he got a good look at her fëa, silently went 'huh' in recognition, and waved them out.)

Then Martha starts having strange dreams and visions - maybe after they fight an ancient dragon? or maybe she already was, in the s3-s4 gap (after fighting an ancient dragon with her new Maia friend?)

Seraphina is initially PSYCHED about this- twinnies for real!! But they get some entity to look at Martha's fëa and they confirm that she's 100% a Man.

Monster of the Week episodes are still the main focus btw. Vampires and werewolves, cursed magical objects, rogue petty nature maiar, peacekeeping between factions of non-humans still dwelling secretly here and there... Though perhaps the masquerade is starting to fracture?

And, of course, some (other?) Maia has shown up and informed them that Sauron is embodied again and trying to complete a ritual to break a hole in the envelope of the world to let Melkor back in, which our heroes must stop!

Also, definitely need to get the 3rd Silmaril back this season. They got the one in the earth and the one in the sea...

- so, a fan favorite recurring character [a/n: IT'S MY IMAGINARY TV, I CAN IMAGINE THE FANDOM'S REACTIONS, TOO, AND ALSO TBH I'M CERTAIN I COULD DELIBERATELY CRAFT A FAN FAVORITE CHARACTER] is the twins' Uncle Earl, who isn't technically their uncle but rather an old family friend of their mother's. He is, in short, kind of an old kook. Some flavor of Southern - I'll flip a coin and say Louisianan? Lives on a houseboat, refuses to go ashore unless absolutely necessary because "the feds'll get me." Visiting nieces means there's someone else to go get groceries and gasoline (necessary, but he doesn't trust most delivery services or modern technology, either), so they've possibly never seen him set foot on land except maybe once on an isolated beach in rural Oregon. Fought in Korea. Has probably looked grizzled since age 12. Eats mostly fish, talks to birds, talks back to the radio.

- to be clear, this guy is not filling the Bobby 'faux-parent' role. ...okay maybe he is a little, emotionally. But he's not involved in "the family business." In terms of SPN characters, he's roughly Garth - appears once a season or so, is a delight for 1 episode, then we part ways. He calls Martha in s1 because there's been some "weird deaths" in the port he's in right now, and he knows they deal with "this sort of thing" but he can't get ahold of Laura. There's a mention of him in s2, that they called to tell him Laura had died. In s3, they need to lay low for a while so they join him on his boat for a few weeks, go stir-crazy and end up fighting a sea monster.

- Idk if he calls them again in s4 or they're trying to lie low again or they just run into him by chance...but they're dealing with MotW murders in some swampy Florida shore-town and on his ship (The Flower) when something much bigger than a swamp monster catches up with them. Say, Sauron sent an unstoppable Carcharoth-sized wolf monster, or maybe a super-vampire (some aerial combat would be fun), or just some Úmaia miniboss that a season or two would've been a season-climax boss fight...

- they're moored up when it arrives. Phina curses, Martha shouts for Earl to drive, drive the boat out as far and fast as he can! Earl was half-asleep at the table; he starts awake demanding if it's the feds?! Phina leaps to the wheel herself and slams the gas, while Martha grabs the old shotgun off the wall and fires at the giant shadowy wolf-monster.

They leave it howling on the pier. They'll have to go back and face it eventually, but they're not ready right now. Maybe they can even re-land far upshore, and it'll have lost their scent again...

- the giant shadow-wolf finishes howling starts chasing them running on the water

- Martha curses, and shouts Phina to drive faster. Earl (looking over Martha's shoulder, also cursed, almost impressed, at the sight of the wolf) tells her to give him the wheel. Phina shoves him away and shouts back as she yanks the wheel that they need to turn back, they can't win this fight on the water -

- the wolf is snapping at the Flower's keel. Phina curses in Valarian and yells at Earl to take the wheel and steer them back to land, while she runs back to help Martha fight the wolf.

- Earl flips a red lever in the [boat mechanics] cabinet under the wheel which we've probably seen before (Seraphina fixed something in s1), labeled "High Octane" and shouts, "Hold on, girls!" He slams the throttle again and the whole houseboat hydroplanes. The wolf falls overboard; Phina goes with it but Martha grabs her.

- the wolf gets to its feet on the water, and starts chasing them again

- "Confession time, girls!" Uncle Earl calls, steering the boat beyond full throttle while Martha and Phina get to their feet. "I did befriend your ma's dad while he was fighting in Korea. He whispered to the stars at night, when he felt lost." Adjusts a standing spyglass, tugs a string a couple times to turn on the lanterns on the prow and above the steering console, dons his navy blue-and-gold captain's hat. "I thought I couldn't have been happier to guide him home - then Elrohir met his Laura, and they fell in love. And had the two of you!"

- "Do you have a point?" Phina shrieks. She's scrambling to get her jacket out of her bag under one of the seats, because her Silmarils are in its pockets and the shadow-wolf is gaining. Martha, shooting at the wolf again, glances back, maybe having noticed that the old anecdote is phrased differently than before. Old Uncle Earl is standing unusually straight, his grizzled-gray hair gold-ish in the warm lantern light.

- "Yes!" he calls, jerking the boat away from the wolf again. Some of his Louisiana accent has fallen away, too. "Don't lose your wits - and keep holding on to something!"

- he tugs the light-cord again and the yellowy lantern-case above the wheel opens, and the light that shines forth is far brighter and paler. Its source falls into his hand as the lantern shakes with the Flower's speed, and he sets it on the brim of his hat - the illusion of which fades, leaving only the golden band on his brow with the Silmaril set upon, and Eärendil standing as tall, young, and golden-haired as when he first sailed the sacred seas. He gives the wheel another stern yank and the ship's prow rises even higher - and keeps rising, with the rest of the Flower in tow - the Foamflower, Vingilotë, every plank now aglow.

- "Also," he admits, looking over his shoulder to make sure neither of the twins has fallen off (again), "I'm your great-grandfather. I really am sorry to have - hey!"

- that's for Seraphina, who is Fëanor, Oath blazing in her heart, regaining her balance, sprinting up the deck and lunging with wrath in her eyes for the Silmaril.

- Eärendil dodges smoothly, while still keeping one hand on the wheel. "I said," he says reprovingly - while Martha bodily tackles her sister to the floor - "keep your wits Fëanáro. I'm here to help, as I ever have been for the people of Arda."

- the girls wrestle on the deck for a few more seconds before Seraphina calms down. It helps that they realize the wolf had grown giant wings of shadow and is chasing them aloft as well.

- btw: late in s4, the dwarvish researcher who's Bobby's fill-in and/or Martha's probably-trustworthy Maia friend should really be present as well for all of the above, but this ain't really about them. So I think they're just kinda. awkwardly Present for this family not-reunion. helping fight the wolf & all that.

- (Eärendil doesn't actually give back the Silmaril. But he lets Seraphina hold it for a few minutes, during which she is more at peace than she has been in millennia, and promises to let her have it again if/when she really needs it, if it isn't more urgently needed elsewhere. This is, more or less, satisfying to the Oath: as discussed "Fëanor's kin" was only ever shorthand for "people whom Fëanor could trust to hold a Silmaril without ever withholding it from him.")

Eeexcept it turns out that even Eärendil doesn't know that the Valar DO want Morgoth back, because they're kinda totally down to have Dagor Dagorath and reboot the world. Look it'll be great - Túrin - that's you, Martha - will help Eonwë and Tulkas slay him, then Fëanor will break the Silmarils, releasing the Light so that Eru can use it to Remake the world, Unmarred this time - Hey, where are you Children going? Stop stabbing people! Stab only the people we tell you to stab!

(Ulmo, ever wise, offscreen: When has that EVER worked? Especially with Fëanáro and his kin?)

Yeah, there's a scene very much like the end of SPN s4, wherein Martha gets grabbed by the celestial "good guys" and they admit that this is all kinda set-up but don't worry - here's your destined fuckoff-huge black sword, just wait a few minutes for your "sister" to once again achieve an evil end that's the exact opposite of what she intended; and then Martha has to convince the Maia she's been befriending all season to help her escape and go rescue Seraphina before she jumpstarts the apocalypse...

(Nb: Martha was already trying to stop Sauron from freeing Morgoth when the season started - she broke Seraphina out of Mandos party bc she loved and missed her sister, partly because she needed a Silmaril expert. But she's grown skeptical of the task somehow, while Seraphina - perhaps because Seraphina - has gotten vengefully obsessed with it. As Fëanor is wont to do. Hell, she has even more reason than she used to - she knows what Sauron did to her grandson.)

So, y'know

They do, of course, accidentally free Morgoth.

On the plus side, in the process, they get to jointly murder the SHIT out of Sauron, who was the REAL mastermind behind much of Laura's Bane's actions (and, honestly? Might've been the real one who killed Laura, and only set it up to look like a Balrog. Flames and shadows both can have many masters!)

SEASON FIVE, THE FINAL SEASON DEFINITELY FOLLOWED BY NO FURTHER SEASONS despite the temptation of a terrible sexy humanoid Ungoliant

I only have 3 ideas for season 5:

1. They go to Valinor at some point, of course. Perhaps to rally aid? The first elf they find, they introduce themselves grandly, Fëanor and Túrin Turambar here seeking allies to fight Morgoth! and the elf says blankly, "I have never heard of either of you." *squints* "You're Men, you say? Lord Ulmo keeps a Man on Tol Eressëa, I think. You could go to him?" But after that, as a running joke all episode, every other elf they meet recognizes Fëanor on sight (she has a very distinctive fëa) and immediately punches her in the face...and every other elf recognizes Tùrin on sight and all but tackle-hugs Martha while shouting joyfully that they never expected to see him again. Some (Beleg) actually do tackle-hug her (and nearly gets stabbed again) (#worthit).

2. To everyone's surprise, including the other Valar, Morgoth started his war upon creation subtly when he returned...but doesn't remain subtle for long, nor do those opposing him. By the end of the season, the masquerade that non-human sentient peoples and various other supernatural beings still live in Arda is all but shattered.

3. Then it's THOROUGHLY shattered in the finale. I don't know if the general human populace participates in the final battle - though I am SO weak for a moment when, like, the regular-ass armed forces, who are not necessarily allies to the heroes, show up to help fight a massive superhuman threat. When the SHIELD helicarrier shows up to evacuate civilians in Age of Ultron, when UNIT does pretty much anything in Doctor Who...I love it when the best protections & warriors the mundane human race could pull together also show the fuck up and help save the day because damnit, this is their planet too. ...Which is, in fact, very on-theme for Tolkien. So yes, actually, this definitely happens. Probably there's some conflict with US military forces mid-season, our heroes have to talk (fight & escape) their way out of being arrested for blowing up a national landmark while fighting a balrog, and the general in charge whom they'd half-convinced returns in the finale with a battalion to slam some missiles into Morgoth...

oh, and 4: Ar-Pharazón et al totally do come back from the dead. Probably on Morgoth's side lbr. They get a twisted undead immortality wherein they cannot die, just go on fighting for the dark lord to whom they once turned in jealous worship...

More importantly...

Okay, I really don't know exactly how the Dagor Dagorath goes. We're following the version that Eärendil will chase Morgoth from the skies; Tulkas, Eonwë and Túrin will fight him upon the field and Túrin will avenge his House and all the Race of Men by slaying him; and Fëanor will break the Silmarils and Yavanna will use their Light to remake the Trees, and the lands will be leveled or in some cases raised from the depths, and everyone will live happily ever after except possibly Men who aren't mentioned beyond Túrin.

This is what the Valar expect to happen (though they don't actually know-know Eru's plans.)

What happens instead is...

Most of the Morgoth-defeating does go exactly like that. Except probably they don't kill him for good - they CAN'T, because the Marring of the world is part of what Morgoth is, and the only way to undo him completely is to remake the world completely.

Which maybe could be done, by Eru if no one else, if He were beseeched? Which might be done with the strength of the Silmarils, their Light released?

And Seraphina does break the Silmarils. That's important for her - giving up her Protagonist role, just as slaying Morgoth - embracing her Protagonist role - is important for Martha.

...but I don't think they give the Light back to Yavanna. No offense to the Trees, but they never illuminated most of Arda anyway, and the world is round now anyway - and making it flat again would fuck it up - and we have, like, electrical lights, now.

Hell, maybe Seraphina is ready to give up the Light... Her instinct is to hold it back, to follow her own novel plans with it, but, oh, to regain what was lost! And she has come around on...some of the Valar. Selectively. Yavanna's one of the okay ones.

- but Martha, half-dead from the battle, drops to her knees beside her and catches her hands before she can loose the Light upward unto the grasp of the Tree-Queen.

- "Together?" Martha says (Túrin Turambar, ever the greatest Men had to offer - bull-headed, loyal, brave, unafraid of death, loving and losing and loving again).

- Seraphina's trembling lips curve into a fierce grin (Fëanäro Curufinwë, ever the greatest Elves had to offer - brilliant in mind and spirit, devoted, ever seeking to preserve and glorify the beauty of the world, and eventually learning some wisdom about letting go).

- "Together," she agrees.

- together, they hold the Light that once shone in the Trees, the Lamps, and the Flame Eternal of Creation itself; and as they release it, reach for the Great Music of Ëa that is deep in both their blood - for they are the daughters of Elrohir, son of Elrond, son of Elwing daughter of Dior son of Lúthien Tinúviel, daughter of Melian the Maia; and indeed, even before that, they are both trueborn Children of Eru, are they not? - and eschew utterly the Choice of the Peredhel by leaving the world round but Un-Sundering the Sea, that the kindred might still live apart, if they wished it - the Elder in their land undying, the Younger in their realms of quick and sometimes joyful, often savage change - but that they might visit one another, at least, as they pleased.

(I mean, wasn't the false division of siblings the whole problem from the start?)

Random Additional Features of this Show/AU/Thing

All elf and ainu side characters, canonical and not, will be cast gender-blindly, and characters referred to with the understanding that elvish personal pronouns don't necessarily correlate with physical phenotype, but Ainur do generally try to match local standards of gender assignment. Dwarves will all use he/him (and have beards!) even when fairly clearly female.

I have no idea what Martha is doing for gender once she remembers being Túrin. With all the time Túrin spent with Elves, she probably rolls pretty smoothly with being she/her now, though it's weird. Her memories definitely integrate more easily than Fëanor/Seraphina's, though, as much because she's the same kind of being both times as because there's less of them.

Both protagonists are definitely bisexual. Martha has a range of love interests; it's a running joke (at first) that Seraphina has a total Thing for redheads. Any kind of redhead. But especially creative ones - any kind of art or invention.

The role of Gabriel WILL be played by Maglor, albeit with a different death (don't worry, he'll be back for the finale) and much more...gloominess. And angst. Okay, and maybe his first appearance, in s1 or 2, IS cursing them - not knowing who they are - into a musical episode. (A WOMAN HAS NEEDS; THE WOMAN IS ME.)

When Martha meets Fingolfin and/or any of Fëanor's other siblings, probably in s5 but maybe s4, they immediately Vibe completely. It's the shared experience of growing up with Fëanor for a sibling. Needless to say, Seraphina Hates This.

Their chief researcher friend is a dwarf, who is also on the young-ish side I think, and a woman (he/him).

There's gotta be a notable hobbit on the Team before the end, too...but overall, hobbits remain symbolically representative of the Civilians in this war story.

Durin is alive again somewhere. Durin usually reincarnates in time to guide his people through particularly difficult times - or, to try. Their dwarf friend - what the hell, I'll just call him Bobby - tries SO hard to be Cool about meeting him, and fails SO hard.

I generally prefer to judge and characterize the Valar and associated Maiar as fallible to the point of clumsiness or negligence but basically wise and thoroughly benevolent...but I AM willing to throw some of them under the characterization bus for ease of making conflict in this hypothetical CW show.

...I probably have many more random thoughts but it's 3am and I want to post this whole insane thing. Feel free to ask me questions if you have them! And/or petition both the Tolkien estate and a major TV network for the rights, money, and support to help me make the terrible but wonderful show we deserve!

#the silmarillion #supernatural #my fic #feanor #turin turambar

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nectar-cellar · 1 year

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5 Facts about Count Vladislaus Straud IV

@holocene-sims Anna, thank you for sending this in and sparking my inspiration! I’ll be using this prompt as a character-building exercise for Vlad. He has absolutely grown into one of my favorite sims and it was long overdue. Warning, I wrote a lot over the weekend and I enjoyed every minute of it.

In the pics above, I aged him down to create what he would’ve looked like as a young, gloomy nobleman. This would have been before he became a vampire. I gave him a softer, more melancholic expression, you’ll understand why. He's aged like fine wine, hasn’t he? Human Vlad or Grand Master Vampire Vlad, I can’t choose, I love them both.

Some notes:

I used the Sims Wiki lore as a starting point but I never force myself to stick too strictly to what is canon with any of my premade sims. The lore gave me some good ideas though.

I kept the timeline vague because I’m pretty ignorant about historical time periods but I imagine Vlad was a human sometime in the 1800s. History buffs, feel free to correct me. I didn’t end up taking more pictures because I have no period-appropriate attire, oh well.

Content warning: blood, violence, war, murder. He didn’t exactly have a fun human life.

Fact 1.

Vlad was born into an upper-middle class family in Eastern Europe. His father was a high-ranking military officer, and his mother was a music teacher. As a child, Vlad was pulled in two directions: his mother wanted to cultivate his love for literature and his talent for music, while his father wanted him to follow in his footsteps as a military officer, and take interest in more traditionally masculine pursuits. He grew up in a home that was materially privileged but emotionally chaotic.

After Vlad came of age, he followed his father’s wishes and joined the military, hoping to finally earn his approval and carry on the family legacy. Reserved, proper and soft-spoken, Vlad quickly found that he did not fit in with his peers, nor did he enjoy the harsh, physically intense, and strict authoritarian environment of the military. The bare conditions of the camps, the long and tiring days, and the constant travel made Vlad disillusioned with the life that he had been pressured to choose, and the career that lay ahead of him. His mother had desperately wished for him to study the arts at university instead, and Vlad would later wonder what life would have been like if he’d been brave enough to take a different path.

Vlad’s performance as a soldier was poor. His meek personality, his weak physical strength, and his inferior performance made him the target of his peers and his superiors’ bullying. His father’s high status made his incompetence even more humiliating, and worse, prevented him from being dismissed from the military like the other flunkies.

Fact 2.

One of Vlad’s formative childhood memories was when his father brought home a rabbit he had hunted, and forced the young boy to prepare it for his mother to cook. Vlad remembers being repulsed by the act of butchering the animal while his father instructed him in an increasingly loud and agitated manner. Finally, Vlad vomited from stress and disgust, then his father angrily took over. Vlad left the kitchen but the sound of the knife hitting the chopping block in a rage was heard all throughout the house. Later, dinner was eaten in silence.

Vlad was traumatized by the incident, but afterwards became morbidly fascinated with animal and human biology, and mortality. He never quite saw the world the same way again.

Fact 3.

Vlad’s time in the army changed him into a tougher, crueler, and desensitized version of himself. He remembers how powerful he felt the first time he fought back against a fellow soldier who had been antagonizing him in the barracks, and won. He had never been one for violence until he discovered how good it felt to beat an enemy into bloody submission with his bare hands. He remembers the stunned silence of the onlookers, and how people acted differently towards him after that. He was treated with slightly more respect, or at least left alone more often.

Vlad remembers the first time he killed someone in battle. He had downed an enemy soldier on the field with his firearm, and had gone over to check. The man was critically injured and bloodied, but not dead. Vlad then shot him a second time, in the head, at point blank range. He was later congratulated by his teammates who had witnessed the murder. Vlad remembers how the fallen enemy had been a young man, just like him. His face had been frozen in shock, his body convulsing with shallow, panicked breaths as he bled out. Vlad had shot him a second time to end his suffering. Vlad knew the reality of war was to kill or be killed, but he didn’t know if it was more ethical to end someone’s life or merely injure them enough to preserve his own safety. As the battles continued, he stopped caring.

Fact 4.

During the war, a small team of 25 soldiers, including Vlad, was sent to an isolated, mountainous region (what is now Forgotten Hollow) on a reconnaissance mission to explore the possibility of setting up a military base in the area. While traveling through the woods, the troop was attacked by vampire bats, but Vlad was the only one bitten. Soon after, he became inexplicably pale, weak, and averse to sunlight, to the unsympathetic disdain of the others. He became hungrier than usual, and he found himself strangely fixated on the necks, exposed skin, and bloodied bandages of his fellow soldiers.

Late one night, towards the end of the mission, Vlad overheard a group of soldiers talking as he was taking a walk by himself around the outskirts of the base camp to get some fresh air. Most of the others had already gone to sleep. Although he felt feverish, weak, and he had a piercing headache, his other senses, like smell and hearing, were strangely sharper than ever before. The soldiers were discussing the troop’s plans to abandon him at the site due to his weakened state and overall lack of competence as a soldier, and to explain away his death as an illness or an accident. Vlad realized this conspiracy to get rid of him had been brewing for a while, and they were going to seize the opportunity while he was mysteriously sick. The oddly small size of the troop and the suspiciously faraway location they were exploring suddenly made sense to him.

An animalistic rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before took hold of him and he attacked the group, lunging at their necks. The next thing Vlad knew, he woke up in the middle of the campsite at dawn, feeling vaguely injured but not in pain, and surrounded by the drained, mutilated, and semi-devoured bodies of all his former troop members. The air was heavy with the smell of blood and meat. Vlad remembers how he was no longer hungry, weak, or scared. All he felt was a calm realization followed by relief that he had survived the ordeal.

Although the region would not make a useful military base or attractive settlement due to its isolated location and depressing weather, the surroundings did provide a strangely cozy place for a homestead. Surrounded by tall mountains, thick forests, and close to a few small lakes, Vlad had at last found his safe haven. Newly invigorated, he began to dispose of the bodies and the evidence, and build a shelter from the usable camp supplies left behind. It would be a while before the military sent another troop to check on them, and he had plenty of time to think about his alibi and future plans while he waited. No one would ever know what happened on that failed reconnaissance mission.

Fact 5

War, betrayal, and trauma made Vlad a cruel, violent, and power-hungry ruler of the small town of Forgotten Hollow. At first, when the town was newly founded, he kept his vampirism a secret and fed on wild animals and livestock. As the decades went by, and more people settled into the town, he became bolder with terrorizing the residents, feeding on humans, and turning humans into younger and weaker vampires under his control. He also returned to the aristocratic lifestyle he had before his military service, building a mansion for himself and pursuing his interests in reading, music, and art. He cultivated the appearance of a charismatic, worldly, and well-groomed gentleman to covertly move through human society, and to better seduce and disarm his victims.

Vlad’s reign of terror only came to an end when the other vampires in the town, particularly the Vatore siblings, banded together to overpower him and report him to the International Council of Occult Beings, a council headed by the world’s most powerful occult beings to govern the supernatural population. After a lengthy trial, as punishment for breaking numerous Vampire Code of Ethics laws, Vlad’s vampiric abilities were severely restricted by magic, he was exiled from Forgotten Hollow, and forced to live in the supernatural community of Moonlight Falls where he would be monitored and unable to act with impunity against a vulnerable human population.

In the aftermath of his trial and punishment, Vlad is content to turn over a new leaf. He admits that at some point, his descent into depravity was no longer justified by his past. All he can do is resolve to change for the better, and he knows there will be harsher consequences from the Council if he does not obey their laws. He is even thankful to have the opportunity to rediscover the humanity and softness he once had a long, long time ago. He knows the regret and guilt he feels are signs that there is hope for him. Still, he wonders if the monstrous, evil side of him, the side of him that delighted in causing pain and terror, can ever be fully put back in its cage. He thinks it’s best if he isolates himself in his mansion and stays far away from everyone.

These days, Vlad’s favorite pastimes are playing classical pieces on the piano, reading books by candlelight, and sipping on chilled packs of ethically sourced, cruelty free, non-human-based plasma from a wine glass.

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