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#i got so derailed
canisalbus · 4 months
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✦ 2023 summary of art ✦
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toshidou · 1 year
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lighthouse for a lost comrade . . .
Pairing // Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word count // 4.9k
Tags // 18+ ONLY, AFAB reader, soft simon riley, written from simon's perspective, mild descriptions of injury and blood, hurt and comfort, aka simon finally allows himself to be looked after <3, he is a big boy with a heart that yearns to be loved you cannot convince me otherwise, the softest of smut, praise, you accidentally give ghost a 'sir' kink, reader calls ghost sir a couple of times because they're hot like that, unprotected sex (tut tut), creampie, a whole lot of swearing
AN // i love this man a ridiculous amount, so me writing nearly 5k about how much i love him was inevitable
AO3 link here
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Simon Riley is not a man who cares about his own health. In fact, his wellbeing never has, and never will be a priority to him. He has work to do, gruelling, gritty, gruesome work, it is beyond pointless wasting time even thinking about when he last had more than 3 hours sleep, or how long it’s been since he consumed anything other than cold military rations. In his defence, he’s never really had a reason to give a shit, he sees the hourglass whenever he allows himself to close his eyes; watches the sand slip rapidly through the cracks, counting down until his inevitable, most likely painful death. He’s living life on a timer, and he’s never had a reason to change that.
Until he met you.
You were a wide-eyed rookie, Laswell bringing you into the fold as a technician, a skilled hacker and mechanic who despite your innocent doe eyes, held lethal talents. He remembers so vividly, the way your head had cocked to the side as Laswell introduced you to the peculiar members of task force 141, remembers the way your eyes stopped on him. You showed not a single ounce of fear or hesitance, just pure unbridled curiosity. That same curiosity led you to asking him far too many questions, relentlessly prying to see more of the man behind the mask, to see Simon Riley, rather than ‘Ghost’. It should have pissed him off, he should have reprimanded you for your callousness towards your Lieutenant, but somehow you knew exactly which questions to ask, knew exactly when to stop and move on to other subjects.
Contrary to popular belief, Simon doesn’t hide his past, doesn’t try to use it to fuel the mysterious and mythical reputation he’s unwittingly built. It’s just that no one ever asks. Maybe it’s something about the skull mask, or the egregiously high kill count he sits so casually on top of that has people wary of ever approaching him. But you—you had no hesitation. You read him like a goddamn book every single time, and it simultaneously terrified and relieved him.
One glance and every secret he shoved behind his balaclava is left bare before you, leaving him with a vulnerable, gaping wound in the shape of a lifetime of trauma and tales that Simon knows no person should ever have to experience. And yet, your eyes hold not an ounce of pity, no awkward silences attempting to be alleviated with an awkward pat on the back and a “that sounds rough, buddy”. You see his past, his pain, his suffering, his bad habits, without him ever having to explicitly say anything. And in return, you say nothing. You don’t try and mollify him about circumstances he’s moved on from long ago, you make no effort to coddle him, to sit him down and patronisingly ask him if he’s doing well, or when the last time he slept was.
Instead, you leave him cutely packaged leftovers on his doorstep, easy meals he can throw in the microwave when he’s too tired to even comprehend making food. You buy him a multitude of jigsaws and puzzles for when sleep evades him as it so often does. You never once try to change him, never force yourself into his life just so you can claim that you’re some selfless martyr. To Simon Riley, you are nothing short of a blessing, and falling in love with you was quite frankly the easiest thing he’s ever done.
He takes off the mask for the first time when neither of you were prepared, nor expecting it. The mission had been so fucking rough, camped out in the middle of nowhere on the hunt for someone he was sure had long since gone. Weeks spent trudging through thick mud, swimming upriver, tracking footprints that led nowhere, steered them to no one. His bone-deep exhaustion finally caught up with him after being shot in the leg and falling nearly 75 metres off of a cliff, plunging into the water below. Price had insisted he go straight to the medic tent back at basecamp, but then simply sighed and shook his head, resigned, as he watched Simon limp off the chopper, and in the exact opposite direction.
To most, this would be the latest example of Simon Riley once again disregarding his health for the sake of keeping up the stoic, strong mask he never let slip. Yet this time, Simon Riley was not disregarding his health, he was, for maybe the first time, trying to preserve what little of it he had left. His leg was near numb by the time he made it to your tent, his foggy mind quickly soothed by the sound of you humming along to the radio, accompanied by the rapid clicking of keys as you worked on some coding. It takes him hissing in discomfort as he attempts to remove his military boots for you to turn around, eyes going impossibly wide as you watch an alarmingly large pool of red grow at his feet.
“Jesus Christ Ghost, are you trying to redecorate my floor?” He kept his mouth shut, using the last dregs of his energy to keep his gaze pinned on you, dark brown irises following your every move as you usher him into the chair you occupied merely seconds before, gingerly hovering your hands over the drenched material that clings to his thigh, soaked in blood and water.
“I’m going to cut the material above the wound, okay? I need to see what I’m working with here.” Your eyes connect with his unwavering gaze, translating his silence into a language that has taken you an eerily short period of time to become fluent in. He watches you nod to yourself, can pinpoint the cogs turning in your mind, can practically see you write the list of how best to deal with this situation as you unpack your first aid kit. Somehow, despite his leg stinging like a bitch, despite how utterly worn he feels, so raw and rough around the edges, he feels at peace.
Price may think he was a stupid bastard for not seeing one of their trained medics, but Simon knows without a doubt that you will always be the best thing for him, you will always be the first port of call, the lighthouse that guides him oh so safely to shore, to home. Even when your stitches are a little uneven, even when you dab a little too much alcohol disinfectant onto his wound, even when you wince every time the muscle in his leg twitches involuntarily, he watches you pour every ounce of care and tenderness into every touch, watches you take care of him in a way no one else ever could, not that he’d let them.
You’re finishing off wrapping up the wound on his thigh when Simon realises he doesn’t want this moment to be over. He selfishly craves more of your delicate, gentle care, unsure if he could ever have this again after tonight, if he deserved it.
So, he waits. He waits for you to lean back on your haunches, bending back to check your handiwork with a satisfied smile tugging at your pretty lips. He waits for your eyes to drift to his, as they so often do, and then he speaks.
“I uh, I got hurt here too,” The words grate against his throat like sandpaper, rough and unsure as he lifts his hand to prod at his cheek, “think I hit a rock in the water after falling.” You stand immediately, eyebrows furrowed together as your fingers gently brush the small rip in his mask.
“I can’t see much with this in the way, Ghost, though I think you’ll live.”
Simon couldn't pinpoint exactly what had his fingers hooking under his mask, couldn’t single it down to any particular moment or word that had him pulling the black material over his chin, and up past his nose, he just knew it felt right. All he focused on was the way your lips fell agape, how your hands lifted automatically towards his wrists, whether to stop them or encourage them further he didn’t know, but he sure as fuck clocked the slight tilt to your head, taking him immediately back to when you first laid eyes on him.
You were looking at Simon in a way he can’t say he’s ever experienced. Like a complicated mixture of guilt and awe. But he feels no fear, no regret as he throws the skull balaclava unceremoniously onto the floor, and directly into the pool of blood he’d left by the door.
“Should be a little easier to see now, don’t you think?”
All he gets in return is a small huff of a laugh, the ghost of your breath fanning across his exposed face, he swears he’s never felt anything as sweet. That is until your hand comes to cup his face, shudders erupting down his spine when the pads of your impossibly soft fingers brush just under the superficial cut on his cheek.
“I don’t know Si, I think we might have to amputate.” You murmur, an overly dramatic lilt to your voice as you pretend to further examine the ‘wound’. And Jesus fucking Christ, if he isn’t so impossibly, incredibly fond of you.
“That bad, huh doc?” He leans forward, just enough to catch the way your pupils dilate, the slight hitch to your usually even breath, “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to save it? I’m particularly fond of that cheek.” He drinks in the soft hum you give in response, watches you with rapt attention as you lean further forward, and nearly passes the fuck out when you press your lips to his upper cheekbone, because what the fuck.
Before this, Simon Riley could say with absolute certainty that he’d never once blushed in his life, but now? He could feel the blood rushing to his face, knowing without a doubt that you could feel the heat radiating from where your fingers and lips remain connected to his skin. His wide eyes, blackened around the sockets from a mixture of paint and week-long exhaustion, remain firmly fixed on you, hardly hesitating before he secures your hand against his face the second he feels you pulling away.
There are no words exchanged, nothing but shallow breaths and searching eyes before Simon allows himself to be selfish just this once and pulls you onto his uninjured thigh, guiding you to sit with his other hand, fingers digging ever so slightly into the meat of your hip. And now he has you here, right where he’s always wanted you, there’s not a chance in hell he’s ever letting you go.
“Please kiss me, Simon.”
As if he could ever say no to you.
“Since you asked so nicely.”
He removes his hand from your wrist, dragging his scarred knuckles as delicately as he possibly can across your cheek, fanning out his fingers around the side of your face, using the leverage to guide you impossibly closer. He allows himself one last look, tracing his gaze from your lidded eyes to your lips before he lets his eyelids fall shut, and loses himself in you. Loses every ounce of tension and exhaustion under the ministrations of your fingers as they tangle into his hair, and finally, fucking finally, he feels his once cold, dead heart thrum to life as you sigh contentedly against his lips. Kiss of life in-fucking-deed.
He's lost in every inch of you, can’t get over how soft and warm the plush of your waist is under his fingers, how responsive you are when he slides his hand ever so slightly under your oversized t-shirt. He wants more, he needs more, can’t help himself as he moves his kisses from your lips, down your jaw, until he reaches the base of your throat, sucking deep purple bruises into your supple skin.
“You taste like heaven,” He’s all too aware of how raspy his voice has become, desire only deepening his tone further as he drags his lips back up the expanse of your throat, a deep groan pulled from his throat when he feels you shift on his lap, highlighting the growing pressure of his cock straining against his pants. “Driving me fuckin’ wild already. Look what you’ve done to me, gorgeous.” His fingers come to curl under your jaw, directing your gaze down to the prominent tenting of his trousers, ensuring his eyes don’t dare drift away from your face as he watches you take in the view before you.
“Mine.”
The noise Simon makes in response is nothing short of primal, it wasn’t a sound he was even aware he could make, near guttural, but of course you would be the one to pull it out of him.
“That’s right baby, all yours, fucking hell,” he’s powerless to stop his eyes squeezing shut when he feels your fingers curl around his clothed cock, mustering every ounce of strength he has left not to cum in his pants there and then, because he’ll be fucking damned if he lets anything get in the way of giving you the pleasure you deserve.
“Come on Si, look at me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he finally opens his eyes again, instantly zeroing in on your fingers as they begin to unfasten his pants, before flicking back up to meet your gaze, “Is this okay?”, your voice tentative.
“More than okay, Jesus,” Simon wastes little time after that, hands sliding under your shirt and shifting further up your torso, muscles freezing when his hand contacts nothing but bare skin, grazing the flesh of your breasts.
“No bra? Lucky me.” You laugh, arching your back further into his touch.
“More like lucky me, those things are basically torture devices, Simon, I’d like to see you try and work with metal wire and straps digging into your boobs and back,” He grins, pinching one of your nipples between two of his calloused fingers and revelling in the way your smirk twists into a moan, hips twitching against the rough material of his cargo pants.
“I think it’s about time you took these off,” He mutters, one hand dropping to thumb under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought about how pretty you’d look getting yourself off on my lap.” Apparently, Simon doesn’t need to say anymore, watching with intense eyes as you pull away from his grip, and begin undressing. Your top joins his mask on the floor, soon followed by your pants and underwear until you’re stood in all your naked glory, mere inches away from him. Simon must be the luckiest son of a bitch on this entire fucking planet.
He takes advantage of your absence by lifting his hips, cocking an eyebrow at you as he gestures towards his trousers, “Give an injured soldier a hand, would you doll?” Truthfully, Simon knows he would have no issues removing them himself, but why would he do that when he can have this instead? When he can have your body pressed in between his thighs, your deft hands undoing his buttons and sliding the material of his military pants slowly over his wrapped-up leg, when he can watch your eyes drink in every inch of new skin revealed with barely contained desire. No, he would much rather have this, especially when your dainty hands peel away his boxers, leaving him only in his top and vest plate.
“Simon…” You whine, your lips so perfectly pouted, a cute little furrow between your brows as you pull and tug at various parts of his vest, “help me take this shit off. It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here.” He hums, schools his face to show careful contemplation, reaching up a hand to rest on your bare upper thigh.
“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?”
“Please, sir.”
Well fuck. That awakened something within him.
With military precision, he unsecured the armoured vest from his body, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head, joining the now large pile of clothes left scattered across the floor of your tent. For a brief second, Simon feels so incredibly vulnerable under your intense gaze, wondering if maybe this is how people feel when he fixes his stare upon them, bare and defenceless. But then you lower yourself back into his lap, settling across both his legs with such gentle care, wrapping both your arms around the back of his head and pinning him with a look he thinks most likely reflects his own.
“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” It’s almost too much, the sincerity in your voice mixed with the way the words were uttered so softly into the air, as though they were a secret only to be shared between the two of you.
“I’m nothing compared to you.” You shake your head, smiling, leaning forward until your nose brushes his.
“Just take the compliment, Lieutenant.” He tries his best not to shiver as he feels your hand trace down his spine, instead shifts his focus onto how close your lips are to his, or the quiet noise you make in the back of your throat as his hands come to grip the meat of your thighs.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Something in the air changes, as though the collective patience between the two of you could stretch no further, so taut it had no choice but to snap. His lips crash into yours, desperation surging through Simon’s veins like wildfire. Fuck, what are you doing to him?
“Can I touch you?” he mumbles against your lips, large hands aching from where they rest, yearning the feeling of your wet heat against his fingertips.
“God, yes, please.”
With newfound strength, he lifts you from his lap and twists you until your back is flush to his chest, uncaring of the twinge of pain he feels from his leg as he settles you fully on his lap. Now, Simon has full access to every inch of your perfect body, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck as he litters the skin with open mouthed kisses, humming contentedly at the way you arch into his hands as he cups your breasts with both hands, fingers toying with your nipples until they’re perked and firm under his touch.
“No teasing, please,” Your pleading breaks him from a momentary stupor, bringing his head up to watch as you place one of your hands over his, guiding it further down, sweeping over your sternum, past your belly button, until his palm rests over your cunt, “I need you here, Simon.”
Fucking hell.
He couldn't find the words, couldn’t articulate them even if he had any. So, instead of speaking, he presses his hand over the curve of your cunt, groans when he feels just how hot and wet you are, all for him.
“Mine.” He repeats your words from earlier into the shell of your ear, a smirk stretching onto his lips at the full body shiver you give in response, growing near predatory when he feels your pussy twitch under his hand. God, how the fuck are you so wet? His fingers glide over your folds with ease, teasing your clit on every upwards swipe of his fingers, and when he finally dips his index finger into your cunt, he’s rewarded with the sweetest symphony. Breathy whines and whispered pleas of “more”, “deeper, Simon, please”, every request he happily indulges, now curling two fingers against your velvet walls, searching for the spot he knows will have you keening against his body. It takes a shift of his palm, the angle changing just enough to have you choking on a gasp, his other hand remains fixed to your breasts, pushing your chest down until you’re pinned against his body.
“Atta girl, feels good huh?” He slips a third digit in, cursing under his breath as he feels your pussy clamp down, twitching helplessly around his fingers as they continue to stroke relentlessly at your g-spot, “Gonna need you to cum at least once on my fingers before I give you anything else, baby.” He dares to steal a glance at your face, and is met with closed eyes, your mouth agape, and head thrown back onto his shoulder, you’re nothing short of a masterpiece. Your hands desperately grip onto his arms, nails digging sweet red crescents into Simon’s inked skin, as though the hold you have on him is the only thing keeping you grounded, and he feels positively fucking drunk on it.
You’re close, that much he can tell, and as much as he could absolutely keep you like this on his lap for another good few hours, he takes pity on your furrowed eyebrows and soft whimpers, removing his hand from your chest and placing his thumb into your open mouth. He doesn’t even need to instruct you as you close your lips around his digit and suck, your tongue eagerly lapping at the rough pad of his finger. He doesn’t have the strength to leave it there for much longer, overly aware of the way his cock desperately twitches from where it’s trapped between your bodies, instead focusing on the way you react the second his spit slicked thumb begins to rub tight circles around your clit.
“Si-, fuck, Simon ‘m close, so close, wanna cum,” There was never any other option for him than to watch you fall apart on his lap, but if he somehow needed further encouragement, “Please Sir, please make me cum.” It would be entirely impossible for him to stop the moan your words drag from his throat, to think of anything other than giving you your release. It’s obvious when your orgasm hits, having to stop toying with your now engorged clit to instead pin your hips down, worried there was a chance you might fall to the side if he didn’t keep you grounded.
“Good girl, such a good fucking girl, made such a mess of my fingers baby,” Simon hums against the side of your head, slowing his ministrations until he’s lazily fingering your still spasming pussy, drawing out the sweet sounds of post-orgasm sensitivity from your spit-shining lips. He waits until you finally regain some form of lucidity, waits until your neck straightens, no longer lolled against his collarbone to finally withdraw his fingers, soothing your whines at his absence with kisses to your jaw. But he makes sure your eyes are locked with his when he brings his fingers to his own lips, ensures you’re watching with nothing less than rapt attention as he cleans every drop of your arousal from his skin.
“Taste fuckin’ divine, princess.” Your head tips forward into your hands with a groan, and Simon couldn’t hide his pleased grin even if he tried.
“You’re not allowed to be this hot,” Your words muffled into your palm, the Ghost’s heart rate spiking when you looked at him shyly through your fingers, affection surging through his bloodstream like a shot of pure adrenaline. “Especially when I can feel your cock pressed against my ass.” As if he needed the reminder, as if that singular thought hasn’t been plaguing him for the past 10 minutes.
“And what exactly are you going to do about that, darling?”
His words were meant to make you shy, were said to watch those sweet eyes of yours widen. Except, Simon realises, he must have awoken something within you, something bold, something utterly fucking debauched, because instead of shying away, you lock your eyes with his, rising to the challenge he set. You stand up, turn yourself around, climb back onto his lap and sink down onto his cock in one fluid motion.
“Fucking-, shit, what the fuck,”
“I think that works for both of us, right, Simon?” You need to stop, or you at least need to give him some time to adjust to whatever the fuck it is you’re doing right now. He can tell you’re far from unaffected, however. The slight quiver to your voice, and the way the slick walls of your pussy clench greedily around him show at least that much. And yet, you’re pinning him with a fierce gaze, your fingers forming an iron grip on loose brown hair at the base of his skull, using him as leverage to grind your hips in circular motions. “Let me take care of you, handsome.” His response cut off by a groan as you begin to fuck yourself on his cock, his eyes frantically flicking from where your cunt swallows every inch of his shaft, back up to your heavy-lidded gaze, locked onto his as you effortlessly ride his cock.
So instead of trying to take the lead, to lift his hips to meet yours, for the first time ever, Simon Riley does as he’s told. He allows you to control the pace, lets you direct his hands to your waist, but doesn’t use it as a point of control. Instead he caresses your skin with rough fingers. He lets you take care of him. And God, does it feel good.
He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes slip closed, and allows himself to just exist in this moment with you. A luxury he hasn’t been able to afford for far too long. Instead, he focuses on the sounds dissipating into the air around your joined bodies, the soft pants and moans that spill from both his mouth and yours, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin combined with the slick noise of his cock fucking into your heat, and if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can hear the rapid beating of your heart where your chest is pressed flush to his.
“C’mon Simon, baby, look at me.” It takes an embarrassing amount of energy for Simon to lift his neck up, refocusing his gaze onto you, “You’re doing so well, letting me look after you like this.” And fuck, he doesn’t want to cry, can’t remember the last time he allowed himself the comfort of crying, but he feels so unequivocally safe around you. Still, the time for tears will come later, right now, Simon wants nothing more than to feel you lose yourself on his cock. He secures his hands on your ass, and stands, ignoring your surprised cries and worried scolding, and walks as best he can towards the mattress near your desk. He doesn’t want to admit that lowering you both down onto the cheap material nearly left him breathless, and he definitely won’t admit that you were right, he didn’t have the strength to do that. But now that he has you lying on top of him, cock still buried deep inside of you, he knows the pain was more than worth it. Because in this position, he can ground his feet into the mattress and focus on fucking you like you deserve.
He ignores the sting of pain in his thigh, no doubt ruining some of the stitching you had done earlier, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. Not when you’re mewling into his chest, nails scratching long, thin pink lines down the expanse of his chest as he fucks his hips ruthlessly up to meet yours. He knows he won’t last much longer, you feel too fucking good, and he has no strength to hold back, praying that you’re as close as he is as he snakes one hand down to toy with your clit once again. Relief washing over him when he feels your cunt clench like a vice around his length, allows himself one, two more thrusts of his hips before he finally reaches his peak, cock twitching like a heartbeat from where it’s buried within you, not moving until the last weak spurts of cum finish painting your cervix white.
“Fucking hell,” with his energy long since depleted, his body slumps into the mattress below, dragging you down with him, his arms still wrapped securely around your form.
“That good, huh?” You grin up at him, eyes glinting in the low light. You look positively stunning.
“You know it, sweetheart,” Simon pauses, looks down at where you’re still sprawled against his chest, and silently thanks the motherfucker who decided to shoot him in the first place, he’s not sure if he would have ever gathered the strength to have you like this, in the way he always craved. “C’mere, I want cuddles.” He grunts, choosing to ignore the surprised laugh you give in response, says nothing at your incessant teasing and light threats to tell Soap that “oh my god, Ghost likes cuddles”.
He does none of that, instead, he holds you close, stares up at the ceiling as you bury your face into his neck, whispering sweet confessions into his skin, words he soaks up and saves for a rainy day. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has never been a man to care about his own health, even now he still sees that damn hourglass, unsure of how much sand remains. But now he has a reason to change that.
Now, he has you.
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Alhaitham referring to kaveh in ways which acknowledge his skill, and kaveh perceiving it as sarcasm, even though alhaitham refers to kaveh in the same ways when kaveh isn’t present is driving me a little bit insane - especially what this prompts the player to question!!
When we first meet kaveh in the archon quest the relationship between him and alhaitham is presented to us as “terrible” (courtesy of npc geoff who introduces kaveh’s return to sumeru city), and the cutscene in the house of daena demonstrates what this entails, being that the two cannot see eye to eye, and, seemingly don’t hold each other in high regard.
Alhaitham seemingly refers to kaveh’s genius in a sarcastic light and kaveh claims to despise talking to alhaitham because of his arrogance.
Looking to kaveh’s hangout, however, when the player has a one-on-one with alhaitham, the player gets a glimpse into alhaitham’s personal understanding of kaveh, and with this, his own views on kaveh.
Within this exchange between him and the player, Alhaitham uses Kaveh’s title without sarcasm, sincerely praising him and his skills, elevating him over ‘less skilled’ architects and asserting that Kaveh should have more confidence in his work.
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The reason that Alhaitham does not openly praise Kaveh is stated here, being that “admonitions” will serve no purpose due to people being prone to fall into “similar pitfalls”, and that people should have the right to lead their own life, rather than have it interfered upon by others
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The reading here is that even if Alhaitham did openly praise Kaveh, no difference would be made in Kaveh’s thinking. Yet, by refraining from praise, and instead goading, by this logic, this also makes no difference. Therefore, the question is raised, ‘why can Alhaitham praise Kaveh to the player, and not to Kaveh himself?’
When Alhaitham praises Kaveh’s work within Kaveh’s hangout it is through there being no record of issues in the reconstruction of port ormos, which is something kaveh states first - in this context, alhaitham notes the work as an “impressive achievement”, which kaveh assents to, as there is no standing in which this can be debated. Kaveh cannot resent a compliment steeped in fact, even from alhaitham
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The problem, then, is rooted in alhaitham’s delivery, which relates to their core issue of miscommunication. Referring back to their exchange in the House of Daena, it is observed that Alhaitham uses similar descriptors of Kaveh to Kaveh, similar to the descriptors he uses to the Traveler in Kaveh’s hangout, however, Kaveh perceives these words as sarcasm.
This highlights the miscommunication between them and can aid in answering the question why Alhaitham cannot be open with Kaveh, as he will be misconstrued.
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​Through Alhaitham’s repeated elusions to Kaveh when he is not present and his open esteem of Kaveh and his work to the Traveler, Kaveh’s assertion that Alhaitham holds him in a negative light is proved incorrect. This serves to highlight the miscommunication between the two, causing the player to question why they hold such contrasting views of the other.
Clearly, there is a reason why Alhaitham cannot openly express his regard of Kaveh to Kaveh, but this reason is obscure to both kaveh and the player.
In terms of queer subtext it’s pretty interesting that alhaitham’s high regard for kaveh is shown within the surface text and yet the reason for this secrecy is never made explicit within the story’s surface and is only to be inferred from alhaitham’s and kaveh’s character stories.
In terms of the two functioning as mirrors, the fact that the knowledge that alhaitham cannot outright compliment kaveh 1) is not only due to their past argument and lost friendship and 2) is also due to his awareness that kaveh cannot accept goodwill, is only obtainable by reading both kaveh and alhaitham’s character stories shows how intertwined they are as characters - you cannot fully understand one without the other
(Update: For more analyses like this, the essay this is taken from is now uploaded! It can be accessed here and here as as a pdf <3)
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caffeinatedopossum · 4 months
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I actually find it really bizarre and counter intuitive that clinically speaking, you cannot legally be diagnosed with a personality disorder until you're at least 18. The reason given for this is because "the personality has not fully developed before this age" like ???
Ah yes, my favorite strategy. Not diagnosing the problem until it's already been virtually cemented into your brain for life! Wouldn't it be easier (and more painless) to address the problem before it's fully developed?
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blufox234isadumbname · 5 months
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i just wanted to make an ophelia painting insp piece this took me too fuckign long
speedpaint below:
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blackkatdraws2 · 5 months
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I'm sad they didn't put him in more feminine clothing, I was so happy whenever I saw him in girls clothes :(
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cerise-on-top · 9 days
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heyhey!! just wanted to say your works are amazing and i love them so so so SO much aagghhh!!
now onto the request— what if,, what if reader knew a ton of languages like nikolai does, and they call their s/o pet names in those languages. an example would be,, maybe if they knew french they would say 'mon chéri' or perhaps they picked up romanian at some point and would call them 'dragă'
the characters i have in mind are price, nik, alejandro, & rudy, if that's okay !! (´▽`)
sorry for the super long ask, lol :')
Hey there! Thank you, that makes me really happy to hear :D And don't worry about sending longer asks, I really don't mind ^^ Also, that request is really cute! I love reader speaking several languages and being a sweetheart in all of them :D
Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with an S/O who Knows Many Languages
Price: I think he knows quite a few languages himself, being a captain in the SAS and all. Not nearly as many as Nikolai, but he probably knows a good three to four languages, so he likely wouldn’t be entirely clueless when you call him something along the lines of mon petit chou fleur. While he won’t understand every term of endearment you call him, it does warm his heart to hear you speak a language he doesn’t know. It flows off your tongue very nicely and he just loves listening to you. Depending on what kind of language it may be, even the profanities sound nice. Although whenever you want to get his attention, just to call him something in a language he doesn’t understand, he sort of expects it to be some cute pet name. Will always smile at you, even if you were to call him your albernes kleines Kaninchen. Retorts with a pet name in one of the languages he speaks. Sometimes he does feel the urge to learn a new language, just for you. Or maybe you could learn a new language together? Practice with each other and just have a good time overall? He might bring up the idea at some point.
Alejandro: Like Price, he probably knows a few languages himself. More than the average person, but not nearly as many as Nikolai. So probably three to four as well. However, because he knows Spanish there’s a good chance he can derive most words in a Romance language. Call him something along the lines of giliw and he’ll always retort with some embarrassing pet name in Spanish. Yes, he knows several languages himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t almost always revert to Spanish anyway. Pretends that you’re using your languages against him and calls you a traitor. And, as is the rule in your household when you’ve betrayed him, you will be held accountable. Lots of chasing through the house. Will “interrogate” you to get you to tell him what you said. Call him a term of endearment in Spanish and you won’t ever hear the end of it. No matter how many times he hears you call him guapo, he always gets that goofy grin on his face. Might research embarrassing terms of endearment to use on you in any other language. And yes, his goal is to find a language you don’t speak. Once he’s found one? He’s not gonna let you live it down. He’s bested you, and that’s all he wanted.
Rodolfo: You’d actually have to call him by his name if you want his reaction since he usually just tends to block out people speaking a language he doesn’t know. Why bother trying to understand someone like that? It’s not like he’ll learn the language overnight anyway. Rodolfo knows about three languages, so not as many as Alejandro. But he knows English and Spanish, which means he can communicate in most places anyway. He thinks he knows enough languages since learning one takes roughly an eternity and he doesn’t have the time for that anyway. Call him Cục vàng and he’ll just look at you as though you’ve grown a second head. You’d have to tell him what it means and then he’ll smile. While he will always appreciate a good Hartlam, he might look at you confused until you tell him you love him. Might not always retort with a pet name of his own, but will mix it up among the languages he does know since he doesn’t wanna seem too stupid next to you. Will also sometimes look up new terms of endearment in languages he doesn’t know so he can surprise you, but might get a bit shy since he might botch the pronunciation a bit. But he tries, and that’s all that matters.
Nikolai: He canonically knows eight languages, so there’s a good chance he knows what you’re saying. Even when you’re saying something in a language he might not entirely know, he might be able to derive the word from a language he does know. Although he may love any pet name you give him, he especially loves any Russian ones since he’s very attached to his country and his native tongue. Goes absolutely wild whenever you call him radnoy. There’s just something so sweet about you calling him something nice in Russian, doesn’t even matter if you botch the pronunciation. Will always give you a hug and a kiss to your forehead since he will always be reminded of how much he loves you. But even a simple min søde skat will get him to smile, even if he has no idea what it means this time. Because of you he might be inspired to pick up some new languages along the way, maybe even ones you don’t know so you can get the same treatment he does with you. Whenever you speak a language he doesn’t know he gets heart eyes for you. You’re just so gorgeous, you’re just so very smart. However, at some point he will just start speaking Russian to you, even if you don’t know the language. He won’t say anything mean, he’ll just tell you how precious you are and how much he loves you.
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lover-of-mine · 13 days
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not sure if my ask sent BUT I’m loving people being vocal about the fandom not caring about eddie outside of buddie. it’s been happening since the dawn of time (lol) and there’s a reason so many vocalists about eddie decided to be loud and obnoxious about it (including yours truly). his journey is nuanced and he’s such a good character to explore a straight-maybe to bucksexual love with but it will take TIME for anything to happen because of that journey. still. you said eddie rights and i love that.
This is the only ask I got from you, so it probably got lost in the blue void if you sent something else. But absolutely, something I noticed during the hiatus, because while I have been lurking around the fandom since season 5, I only really started to actively post thoughts and stuff after the lightning, so I spent a really long time observing people even more when I started posting random metas, or just thoughts, people have this almost pathological need to make everything about Eddie about Buck. I legit remember making a post about Shannon and blocking several people because they kept making what happened with Shannon about Buck, and that's not it. Eddie is a FASCINATING character. He is so nuanced. And he is so well written and acted out. Like, I was casual about the show until fear-o-phobia (tbf that was the 3rd episode I watched live but still). Eddie grabbed me by the throat that day. And there's so much that people give Buck a pass that they would NEVER give to Eddie. And there's so much to explore with him. And yeah, I think his queer journey will involve Buck somehow, but because I truly believe that man is demi and I don't care about anything else. Making him have a complicated relationship with attraction as a whole is so much more interesting than saying he's just looking for a beard his whole life. And the amount of people I saw picking fights about people not shipping Buck and Tommy because "they have this need that Eddie should be the only man for Buck" (when literally everyone in the fandom hc Buck 1.0 as having slept with guys too) that are people I had seen saying that Eddie only ever loved Buck, straight up erasing the whole concept that he might've been in love with his wife is wild. If Eddie is not adding something to Buck and this idea that Buck is this baby that needs to be protected and can do no wrong, then he is being unnecessary or ooc or just plain weird and THAT'S WILD. Sure Buck and Eddie have a compelling relationship, and I LOVE exploring the possibilities around how much Eddie loves Buck, but Eddie exists for more than loving Buck and both of them exist outside of each other. Honestly, right now, Eddie needs some defenders because it's rough out here. If people can pick fights about Buck the way they do, Imma do the same about Eddie. If people don't agree then that's their problem.
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coreene · 4 months
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This is from when Astarion tells the player that he's a vampire
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Player: But you've been walking in the sun this whole time. Astarion: And by rights I should be cinders blowing in the wind, but something's protecting me. The same something that's kept us from turning into mind flayers, no doubt. But that's neither here nor there. What matters is everything's out in the open now. Because we trust each other. devnote: He doesn't really believe what he's saying but trying to convince the player
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Player: We are a team. We need each other. Astarion: Exactly! I knew I could rely on you. Just like you can rely on me. devnote: Do not rely on Astarion, dear player. He will eat you.
I've seen this being shared before but I wanted to have it on my blog anyway. That last devnote just kills me. And Astarion does, in fact, kill you if you let him. I like that it happens. I think that was one of the moments where it broke that romantic vampire trope. You can't trust vampires - they will eat you!!
I didn't know much about dnd vampires, and having already lived through that vampire loving phase in my teens he wasn't really interesting to me, at first glance. But being a vampire is not really the main focus of his story, is it? It's trauma, slavery and survival. It's how strong he is despite being so goddamned scared.
Which makes him human more than anything else. I think we like him so much because of that.
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frogseasons · 2 years
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something something hunter mullet
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How do you feel about Jack Drake?? What are your thoughts on him and Tim’s relationship?
Anon, I hope you were interested in a novel, because look, I am fascinated by Jack Drake.  He’s key to a whole lot of what I find compelling about Tim as a character, and if I were in charge of DC, I’d bring him back to life.  This would make Tim unhappy but would IMO make for good plotlines.
Jack and Tim’s relationship is Complicated (TM)...
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Jack and Tim hug in Nightwing 20 / Jack impulsively yanks a TV out of the wall in Robin 45 / Tim grieves in Identity Crisis
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“I could tell the truth.  But I don’t.” - Robin 66
...and it involves a whole lot of Tim lying, and feeling guilty about lying, and thinking about telling the truth, and choosing again and again to keep lying.
And I think that’s great.
Below the cut:
Shorter version - key points about Jack
Really long version - my gentler take (vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports) vs. my harsher take (Jack has some major flaws)
Final thoughts
Shorter version - key points about Jack:
He’s a bad parent.  He’s self-centered, he consistently prioritizes his own comfort and interests over his son’s, and when upset, he does things like order Tim off to boarding school.
But he’s never a bad parent in an actionable way.  He’s not like David Cain or Arthur Brown, who are abusive monsters.  Jack’s not a monster!  He just...kinda sucks.
He genuinely loves Tim. If Jack’s aware that Tim’s disappeared or is in trouble, he’s always worried and upset.  He periodically resolves to be a better dad, and IMO he’s always sincere.
And Tim loves him, a lot.  Tim’s protective of him and worries about him when he’s kidnapped or in danger, and when they’re reunited, Tim’s really relieved and usually hugs him (and Jack hugs back!). 
...But they have very little in common, and that’s a problem. Jack doesn’t value the things that Tim values, or respect the people that Tim admires, or care about the things that Tim’s interested in.  Tim lies to him a lot, but that’s partly because he correctly guesses Jack wouldn’t respond well if he knew the truth of what Tim’s up to.
The Batfamily is a surrogate family that Tim’s drawn to because of the ways his real family doesn’t meet his emotional needs…but also he feels guilty about that and disloyal. (And to the extent that his dad recognizes what’s going on, he's jealous and resentful!)
Very long version:
(LISTEN I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS)
Okay!  So first: Jack’s a character who IMO is pretty up for interpretation.  You can interpret him very charitably, and make excuses for the bad behavior, and fill in the blanks sympathetically when situations are ambiguous; or you can interpret him uncharitably, and emphasize the bad behavior. I don’t think either approach is invalid - it depends on what kind of story you’re interested in!  I have enjoyed Bad Dad stories and also stories that redeem Jack.
My personal take on canon is that Jack and Tim’s relationship is in a gray area.  Jack's definitely neglectful, and he does prioritize other things over Tim, but he’s never so bad that Tim can easily reject him, and he's never so bad that Bruce could justify taking Tim away.  He's just...not great.  Tim loves him, and feels loyal to him, but it’s a very mixed-up complicated love.
I have a gentler take and a harsher one which I switch between as the spirit moves me. xD
My Gentler Take (tl;dr: vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports)
Here’s the core conflict: Jack and Tim are very different people with different values.  Tim idolizes Bruce and Dick and vigilantism, and secretly gets involved, knowing his dad will hate it. He gets increasingly wrapped up in his secret world and lies to his dad...because if his dad finds out, he’ll make Tim quit.
This is a great setup for an ongoing comic.  It’s practical, because it provides endless potential for plotlines, and it’s nicely thematic, because it maps closely onto relatable real-life situations with extracurricular activities:
Tim the drama nerd whose dad thinks he’s playing football and not in the school play; 
Tim the closeted-queer kid secretly getting involved in his school’s politically-active Gay-Straight Alliance; 
Tim the choir kid whose dad only values making money and wants him to go into the family business (and Tim keeps promising himself he'll give up choir soon, definitely soon, but maybe he'll stay in just a liiiittle longer, because they need him, you see, the last tenor left town, so...); 
Tim the computer geek with the sports-obsessed dad (this one’s just canon);
etc. etc.  
The extracurricular metaphor works pretty well for Tim’s relationship to vigilantism.  Tim's involved in his "extracurricular" because he genuinely thinks it's important and fulfilling, and he values it and wants to be good at it. He idolizes Bruce and Dick because they're good at it. He's been collecting information about it since he was a little kid, and hiding it from his parents because he knows they wouldn't approve. And mayyyybe there's also an element of low-key rebellion against his dad, and maybe that's secretly part of the appeal. And yet also as Tim gets more and more invested, he starts to daydream: maybe I could tell my dad and he'd be proud of me and supportive. But he doesn't, because actually he knows his dad would be upset and angry and make him quit.
And - again, just like with lonely kids and extracurricular hobbies - one of the things that happens is that Tim starts getting his unfilled emotional needs met ... by people he knows through this secret hobby. And people like Bruce and Dick start turning into a surrogate family. Which Tim feels guilty about. And also as Tim gets more and more wrapped up in their world, he has to lie to his dad even more, which means the distance between Tim and his dad gets bigger and bigger and more and more unfixable.
I love this dilemma. It's simple, it's recognizable, it provides endless sources for conflict, and there's no obvious solution! Tim can't tell Jack: he'll make Tim quit! And Tim doesn't want to quit, because he loves choir / art / theater / whatever.  Yeah, it’s difficult, and there are challenges, and sometimes he has doubts...but at the end of the day, he cares about it a lot.  And everything he values is there, and all the people he admires and cares about are there, and all he wants in the world is to feel like he's one of them and belongs there. So he has to lie, even though he doesn't want to lie, and he feels guilty about it...
...but also he ends up lying more and more.
(Sidenote: I think it's important that Tim chooses to keep lying - Tim's narration often glosses this as "I have to lie to my dad," and that's certainly how it feels to Tim, but this... isn't quite true. He has to lie to his dad, because if he doesn't, his dad will get mad at him and try to stop him, not because he literally has no choice about it.)
Other Reasons Why I Like The "Secret Extracurricular" Interpretation
(tl;dr it complicates not just Tim's relationship with his dad, but also all his other relationships)
Tim's problems have some obvious parallels to Steph and Cass, who both become vigilantes while rejecting their evil supervillain dads. But Jack isn't evil. And that means the Tim-and-Jack relationship is ambiguous and complicated in ways that I like. Steph and Cass can just leave their Bad Dads in prison, and say good riddance, and feel very righteous and triumphant about it! Tim’s more complicated. Tim gets into vigilantism ostensibly out of duty and altruism, but secretly, he's also involved for straight-up selfish self-fulfillment reasons. He's lonely, and bored, and his life feels pointless, but he thinks that Bruce and Dick are cool and amazing and he wants to be a part of the things that they do.  When his dad gets jealous of Tim’s relationship to Bruce, and feels like Tim’s looking for a surrogate family, he’s... not wrong.
And the ways in which Jack is not Actionably Bad complicate things from Bruce's POV.  If Jack was a straight-up villain, it’d be an easy call to keep in touch when Jack finds out and makes Tim quit...but he’s not a villain, not really.  So what do you do?  Do you try to surreptitiously stay in touch with Tim even though you’re ignoring his dad’s express wishes and thus forcing Tim to sneak around?  Do you respect his dad’s wishes and stay away from Tim even though you have a years-long relationship at this point?  
Again: a bit similar to the extracurricular analogy.  Say you’re the choir director and you’ve built this whole relationship with a kid in the choir, and you’re an important mentor to him and you care about him etc. etc. etc.... and then right before a big performance, his dad finds out he’s been secretly involved, and yanks him out.  How would you react?  Well, maybe kind of in some of the ways Bruce reacts.  You replace him. You’re annoyed with him. You miss him. You want him to come back. You’re also worried about him.  You’re upset with his dad.  But also... what should you do, exactly?
Bruce and Alfred and Dick care about Tim as if he were part of their family, but he’s not part of their family, and there’s a lot of interesting tension there.
My Harsher Take
Jack never hits his son.  But his temper is a big deal.
In his worst moments, he takes out his anger on Tim’s stuff - wrecking his room, or ripping his TV out of the wall and confiscating it.  When he’s worried about Tim, he usually expresses that fear by yelling at him / punishing him / sending him away - threatening to send him to boarding school in Metropolis in Robin III, or threatening to send him to military school abroad in Robin 92, or actually forcing him to go to an all-boys' boarding school post-NML.  
This is bad behavior!  It is Not Good!  
And you can easily connect the dots to a bunch of Tim’s terrible coping mechanisms, like the constant lying and or the fact that Tim’s go-to methods for dealing with interpersonal conflict are 1) repress it and pretend it never happened (most of his fights with Bruce), 2) withdraw from the relationship until he can pretend the conflict doesn’t exist (when his friends get mad at him in YJ, he quits the team for a while), or 3) literally run away from home.
Also, Jack is a Manly Man with firm opinions about how men behave vs. how women behave, and he thinks boys shouldn’t be scared and thinks Tim should date hot girls and pushes Tim to work out and wants him to play football and expresses period-typical sexism, etc. etc. etc. ... and though obviously this wasn’t what the writers had in mind at the time, all of that is certainly interesting to read backwards in the light of Tim as a queer character.
More Disorganized Thoughts on Jack Drake
Tim’s our hero, so we’re naturally more sympathetic to him, but it’s also true that relationships are a two-way street, and Tim doesn’t value any of the things his dad values, either.  Jack at various points is shown to care about grades, business, money, boarding schools, archeology, football, a kind of macho bragging-about-dating-hot-women ethos, and a very public and performative kind of caring. Tim tends to respond with discomfort or disinterest or even disgust.  When Jack gets on TV to try to rally the government to save his son from No Man’s Land, Tim isn’t touched—he’s mortified.  When Jack makes some bad investments and loses money, Jack’s deeply upset and his self-image is majorly impacted, and far from being sympathetic, Tim’s annoyed and kind of contemptuous of the idea that this is a problem.  Jack thinks fishing in the early morning and going to tennis matches is a fun father-son activity; Tim finds it exhausting and tedious.  And so on.
This means that Tim often longs to be closer to his dad in theory, but this longing is more tied to fantasy than to reality. He rarely seems to enjoy spending time with His-Dad-The-Actual-Person.  So for example, when Tim’s deadly ill with the Clench, he has an extremely poignant fever dream about telling his dad the truth and getting hugged…even as he insists in real-life to Alfred and Dick that he does not want them to tell his dad what’s going on.
The same is true of Jack, who IMO genuinely wants to be closer to his son and is continually declaring that he’s going to turn over a new leaf and get closer to his son…and just as continually backs out of activities or loses his temper when faced with spending time with his actual son.
Tim and his dad sadly get along best—by far—in Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder situations.  When Jack gets kidnapped or is in danger, Tim worries for him (and Tim grieves him deeply when he dies).  When Tim disappears or runs away, Jack’s genuinely worried about him.  So e.g. they have a really moving emotional reunion and hug when the earthquake hits Gotham, and Tim panics about his dad’s safety and comes running home (and meanwhile Jack’s been panicked about Tim’s safety!).  It’s the day-to-day, regular life stuff where they don’t connect.
Jack's written quite differently by different writers. Mostly, Tim's parents are at their least likable in his early appearances and early miniseries (this is where you get, for example, Jack and Janet being nasty at each other while a pained employee looks on, and Tim disappointed to once again get news of where his parents are via postcard - "I guess that sums them up! Never know where they’re going to be–or when–or even how long!” - and Tim alone on school break, and Bruce and Alfred thinking there's something weird going on with Tim's parents, etc. etc.). Jack's more sympathetic but still often unlikable in most of Tim's Robin solo, and he's almost invisible (but positively treated if he does show up) in Tim's team books.
For obvious reasons, Jack's remembered way more sympathetically after his death. Tim's completely devastated by Jack's murder, which he arrives moments too late to prevent, and he basically never gets over it. We see him grieving Jack again and again in Robin, and also in Teen Titans, and also in Resurrection, and again in the Halloween Special, and again in Batman: Blackest Night, and all the way up to the end of Red Robin. Tim also grieves for an extended time over Janet - he hallucinates a happy reunion with her when he's feverish in Contagion, and hallucinates her in the final issue of Robin, and the reveal-your-buried-emotions song in Robin 102 brings up his grief for her too (meanwhile, other characters dance or laugh or otherwise get giddy).  Tim’s grief over his parents’ deaths is intense and long-lasting.
I'm not going to clip comic panels because this is long enough, but if you're curious, here's a nice and fairly lengthy compilation of comic panels with Tim and Jack.
If you're interested in a Jack-centric story with a softer-but-still-recognizably-canon take on Jack, I really like the way Jack’s narration is written in the one-shots Heart Humble (set shortly before Jack dies) and Never a Hero (Ra's resurrects him during Brucequest, and Jack's archeology skills turn out to be unexpectedly useful).
#tim drake#jack drake#ask tag#i wrote this ages ago and now i can't remember what i was going to add to it so oh well draft amnesty? sorry for the long wait anon!! <333#anyway i kept this carefully on topic and virtuously did not derail into talking about the other blorbo but tags are for disorganization SO#for me this kinda half-in half-out place where tim is with the batfamily is SUCH an interesting part of his relationship with dick#and i never stop turning it over in my head#he's kiiiinda replaced dick in that he's robin - but in a very real way he *hasn't* - he's NOT bruce's new son the way jason was#and early!tim makes a BIG POINT of how bruce is not his dad#and i think this relative distance from bruce is a huge factor in why dick is able to build a close relationship with tim at all#(because dick's still pretty estranged from bruce!)#and there's such interesting tension there when dick starts jokingly calling tim ''little brother'' or when villains call them brothers#because they're NOT. increasingly they would both LIKE to be brothers! but dick has zero official standing in tim's life#if tim got hit by a car in his civilian identity bruce and dick wouldn't even be able to visit him without his dad's permission#which jack would be pretty unlikely to give! jack doesn't like or trust bruce!#or like. this is morbid. but if tim died. dick wouldn't even be invited to the funeral you know?#and there's such interesting tension there for me in the contrast between this vigilante relationship that's very very close#but in their civilian lives no one would assume they're anything in particular to each other#anyway the 1st half of tim's robin solo has this thread of tension between tim's family life vs. his vigilante life (plus his mom's death)#and then the second half + red robin has the thread of struggling with grief in a world that's not fair + feeling lost/alone#and these two threads are a big part of my interest in tim as a character! jack's the backdrop that makes a lot of stories possible
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shrimpari · 5 months
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"I see all of you as rats. Nothing...but...rats."
The Abbot of Saint Markovia
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princip1914 · 8 months
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I am completely ecstatic to share this gorgeous hand bound copy of my Good Omens human AU The False and the Fair made by @nieded.
Even though Ni sent this to me about a month ago, I still can’t quite believe that it exists, that someone would go to all this effort to make something so beautiful with my words. Wanted to do a little photo shoot to share this with y’all, since something so lovely shouldn’t just be kept to myself. Thank you Ni!
(Adding for the record: I love seeing my work transformed by the fandom, but I do always like to be asked in advance before art/bound copies/podfic etc is made of my work. If you're interested in doing something like this please do reach out!!)
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doodlebloo · 1 month
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"The dsmp characters are my OCS now!!" Dude they were always your characters. They've been ours from the beginning.
We spent years of our lives analyzing every line in every stream that was even partially in-character to help form a complete and complex and often contradictory picture of the characters these streamers were trying to portray. No matter how good at rp they were there was always a pretty significant portion of their characters that came from fans analyzing and theorizing and creating compilations of consistencies...
The form of storytelling in the dsmp was extraordinarily collaborative with it's audience, so many things that eventually became canon were inspired by or even directly lifted from fan interpretations and it's no exaggeration to say that the fact that the server became roleplay-focused at all is mostly thanks to the fans.
Not dunking on people saying they're going to "OC-ify" the characters - on the contrary im actually saying go bananas w making them whatever you want! But I do want to remind us all that as a fan base we practically co-authored these characters in the first place. They've always been ours too!
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daswarschonkaputt · 1 year
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so a few select people know that i've been working on these bad boys for a few weeks now. this collection started because @mortimerlatrice had the audacity to try and tell me that fem!kinn wouldn't wear skirts and dresses and i pretty much broke my tablet pen in the rush to prove her wrong. also i felt like redesigning my fem!kinn and fem!porsche ideas. beneath the cut are my thoughts on these outfits plus the fashion collections they're inspired by/referencing.
fem!kinn businesswear looks
fem!kinn i feel like is the type of person who weaponises her gender expression. every part of how she presents herself is a carefully cultivated power play. she smokes cigars and drinks scotch and can talk at length about stocks and cryptocurrency, but she wears high heels even though she had to teach herself how to run in them, has long hair even though styling it is a nightmare, and is never seen without make-up, because every part of her must straddle a line of being masculine enough to be respected without being dismissed as butch, or a transgressor of gender norms. so: power suits and heels.
most of these are just riffs on the show's suits, so no real reference images, though hilarious @elnotwoods and i managed to parallel brain the exact same corset + suit look bc we are bloggers of TASTE.
fem!kinn occasionwear looks
the product launch -- upon rewatching clips from this episode i realised that the product launch apparently has a roaring 20s theme? which be wildin'. i spent so long looking at pictures of 20s style dresses until i found eliza jane howell who is a tiny british designer who has an entire collection of 20s inspired gowns. the inspo for kinn's dress was the miranda dress from her eveningwear collection.
the diamond auction -- i've drawn fem!kinn in this dress before, and i stand by it. this is a dress from ralph and russo's fall 2015 couture collection, specifically look 12. i first saw this dress months ago when i was looking for clothes for a project i was working on and it's lived in my brain rent free since.
date night i and date night ii -- both of these dresses i saw on pinterest somewhere and forget to save the link bc when i do art i usually have abt 50 billion tabs open. (i make firefox weep each time i open a new one.)
looks that almost made it in: michael cors rtw fall 2022 look 24; and schiaparelli couture spring 2022 look 24.
fem!kinn misc looks
okay so the theme for this one was actually "iconic kinn looks" and you know what? the towel was iconic. there i said it.
the sleepwear look -- *cries in detail work* yes all that lace is hand-drawn YES MY WRIST ACHED SO BAD AFTER FINISHING IT, this one is just conjured out of my head, no inspo look
the suspenders -- real ones know which kinn look this one is based off. just google kinn in suspenders or something i guess because we were ROBBED that it wasn't in the show. ROBBED.
the towel -- since drawing it multiple ppl have told me that they think fem!kinn would just wear the towel on her hips, tits out, no shame, and they are all so valid.
family portrait -- when i was drawing this, i got sent a look by siv that i initially discounted because it was a skirt suit and fem!kinn all about those power suits. and then i was looking for thai designers and i saw the same look and i was like, "okay but she'd only wear this in a family portrait," and then i was like hhrrrrnngngn family portrait outfits for all of them, so now it's a category. this is a recoloured version of poem bangkok's fall 2022 rtw collection look 19.
fem!porsche "pre-kinn" looks
okay so my thoughts on fem!porsche are as someone for whom gender is almost an afterthought, whose main friends are all guys, who drinks bear and kicks ass and cuts her own hair whenever it gets too annoying, who buys male toilettries because they're cheaper, who's made a career out of being rich girl's experimental whirl into lesbianism, and who can get them off real easy but isn't so good at getting herself off. she's hooked up with her fair share of guys, and considers herself more of a male-leaning bisexual. like, girls are fun and all, but she tends to have a better time when she hooks up with guys. (kinn's gonna blow that out of the water, hahaha.)
the fighter outfit -- originally this was going to be just a sports bra + jeans, but then i saw a pic of a cropped hoodie and my brain just sort of blanked out and when i was done the art was finished. porsche's abs are very important to me. as are her arms. and her thighs. she's an itty bitty titty committee member tho and i stand by that.
the bartender outfit -- i've drawn this one before, but yes! all the buttons undone! cheapest black shirt and slacks! converse!!! YESS
the casual outfit -- bike shorts, big t, big shirt? yes. fem!porsche sits somewhere between jock and gonna-fix-your-appliances on a fashion basis and i am here for it.
fem-porsche "kinn era" looks
one of the big ideas i had going into this project was the idea that porsche feels divorced from her femininity in a way that she's not altogether satisfied with and that kinn helps her reconnect with it. because, like, let's be real: porsche has no major feminine influences in her life growing up, and she's literally always got bigger concerns. she defo plays up the idea that she's above it all, whilst also completely lost as to how to get to there. kinn is probably both an object of envy and attraction for her.
(also i have in my head that the sauna conversation goes something like: porsche: do you have a boyfriend, then? kinn: i've never once found a man that truly wants a powerful woman. porsche: huh, that's weird. i've had no trouble finding guys who want me to hold the up against a wall.)
anyway it's important to me that kinn makes porsche feel dainty and feminine.
the bodyguard look -- hrrrrngngng waist. that is all.
clubbing with tankhun -- you know how i said somewhere between jock and owns a monkey wrench? meet porsche out clubbing. love it for her.
first public date with kinn -- so the background i had imagined for this outfit was that porsche and kinn are going public, and kinn sends her a box with a dress to wear plus heels, only porsche can literally not stand for more than two seconds in the heels and hates them, so she wears her converse instead. this is almost a direct copy of look 12 from monse's spring 2021 rtw collection.
black tie date with kinn -- obvs this is a dress that kinn picked out for her, so i thought long and hard about what kinn would choose. in the end, i figured kinn would probably want her to look regal. i looked at so many dresses for this one, esp bc there was a secret requirement where i wanted the skirt to be loose enough that kinn could eat her out in it. look, i just think it would be gender if kinn dressed porsche up in this dress and porsche felt all pretty and feminine and then kinn ate her out in the bathroom at the event or something. you know. girl things. this dress is look 6 from valdrin sahiti's spring 2022 bridal collection and i had to download a pdf to get a reference picture, so appreciate my work. also shoutout literally the only time porsche is wearing heels. kinn had to give her like three hours of walking lessons.
fem!porsche minor family head looks
michael kors collection saved my bacon here. i really struggled to figure out what fem!porsche's overall aesthetic would be for her minor family head position. i wanted something distinct from kinn, but didn't think she'd go full androgyny. in the end i settled on a well-tailored suits with a military flare in their cut.
first business look -- this one is based on look 19 from michael kors collection's fall 2022 rtw collection. dem arms.
second business look -- same song, different verse. same collection, but look 7. the thigh-high boots were added by me, though. i wasn't drawing lesbian kinnporsche without putting one of them in thigh-high boots.
visiting mum -- a couple of things. this one is based on this photo i found on pinterest, because i just really liked the neckline. details you might miss: this is arguably porsche's most femme outfit here, but she doesn't have the perfectly styled hair that she has when she's on mafia business, and she's still wearing her ratty beat-up converse. she's feminine, but trying to be authentic. it's a specific kind of messaging she's trying to get across to her mum. she probably agonised for hours over what to wear. kinn definitely really likes her in it.
family portrait -- again, plucked from my own imagination. the original inspiration for this look was look 9 from altuzarra pre-fall 2020 but if you click that link you'll probably be able to tell i went completely off-script. the more i drew it, basically, the more the altuzarra look looked too japanese, which is understandable, because that collection's whole thing was about blending modern and traditional japanese fashion. in the end, i pivoted, and brought it more in line with kinn's look, because i really did want them to have similar vibes. (couples outfits? couples outfits!!)
near misses -- these ones almost ended up involved: altuzarra pre-fall 2020 look 6 for the family portrait; michael kors fall 2020 look 60 also for the family portrait; michael kors fall 2020 look 30 for minor family mafia business; look 17 from alexander mcqueen's 2011 pre-fall collection also for mafia business; this look from pinterest for mafia business that got discounted bc i was going in a different direction; and this dress from rouba.g's spring 2019 rtw collection for the black tie dress which literally only avoided inclusion here because i couldn't make the sheer fabric look right.
anyway the takeaway here is don't get into an argument with me because i will bring receipts. mort learned their lesson, don't worry.
also @yeetlegay i gave you adequate warning. you knew it was coming.
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bluejaybytes · 14 hours
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SURVIVED MY SCARY TASK !!!! IT WENT WELL !!!!!!!! ALSO I SAW A BEAR
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