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rhys-writes-some-shit · 4 months

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"Sing to Me?"

Alastor x Reader (QP)

Yawning, you trudged out of the bathroom, drying your hair loosely with a towel. You were warm from your shower and the filling meal you'd had a little while earlier. Alastor was probably the best chef you knew, a fact you were extremely proud of. Even if your preferred form of protein was banned from the hotel premises, Alastor was always able to make do with what he had.

Despite it being late at night, you grabbed your laptop (a very rare, not VoxTech one) to work on some paperwork. You'd promised your boss to get these spreadsheets done, and you weren't one to shirk on your promises. Yawning again, you tuned your old-fashioned radio before settling down with your laptop. The radio had been a gift from Alastor. Many late nights had been spent listening to his broadcasts. They'd always been a comfort, even before you'd signed a contract with him.

Some light jazz filtered through the static, one of your favorite songs. Alastor knew you were listening. Smiling lightly, you started typing away.

The music was occasionally interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream or a sharp whimper. Your smile never left, humming along while Alastor had his fun. Part of you was vaguely aware that the radio show was now being broadcast all throughout Hell, that you didn't even need the radio, but you liked it, so it stayed on.

The spreadsheets were simple enough. With the radio in the background, you were able to focus just enough that the job came naturally. In the back of your mind, you started going over the next day’s schedule.

You'd ended up zoning out while you typed, not even noticing how the radio switched to static and then turned off by itself.

A single knock preceded Alastor's entrance, enough to break you from your thoughts. You were quick to notice the faint blood splatter on the sole of Alastor’s shoes, the only evidence of his previous activities.

“My dear, you know how I abhor those vile machines,” Alastor reprimanded, walking and starting to subconsciously organize your room. A chair was pushed in, a painting adjusted so it was even, the bottom drawer of your dresser lightly closed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “I need it to do my job, Al. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a piece of electronic equipment that's not created by VoxTech?”

“All the more reason to get rid of it.” Alastor walked over to the window and stared out at it. He was a little lost in thought himself, it would seem.

Typing a line, you said, “I liked your broadcast.”

“I'm glad.”

He was quiet. Something was wrong. Your grin died down, pushing your laptop to the side. Alastor’s smile was still there, but dimmer. Sadder.

“Al? You okay?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, dearest,” Alastor replied, a slight edge in his voice.

You wanted to push. To get him to talk to you. But you knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, he'd just get upset or shut down more.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if we'd met while we were alive,” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, obviously that would've been impossible in the first place, considering I wasn't even born when you died, but I just wonder about it.”

“What a ridiculous thing to wonder about!” Alastor laughed a little. “As you said, it would have been impossible. And why think about being alive when we have all of death to enjoy?” His tone lightened a bit. “There is so much entertainment to be had! Life was quite dull, comparably.”

You wondered for a moment, trying to figure out where to lead the conversation. “Where did you live, when you were alive? You already know where I lived when I was alive, it's only fair I know where you lived.”

Alastor’s grin softened a bit, still sad, but with a hint of happiness in there. Nostalgia, if you had to guess. “New Orleans, Louisiana. I lived there with my mother. I had a delightful job as a radio host.”

“You're still a radio host,” you teased playfully. “What was it like, back then?”

“Ah, it was… entertaining.” He didn't say anything more, lost in thought as he leaned on his cane. You were vaguely aware that you were the only person who ever saw him like this. Alastor wore his smile like armor, guarding himself with a nonchalant facade, but very rarely, behind closed doors, the guard would fall, just for a little while.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask another question, Alastor spoke, “You seem quite tired, my dear. Maybe it is time we part ways for the evening.”

Pressing your lips together, you knew he was right. You really should be getting to bed, but you were worried about Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this before, so it was impossible to guess what he'd do once he was alone.

“You really should learn to hide your emotions better.” Alastor turned suddenly, chucking to himself. “There is nothing to worry about, darling. I am perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, you say that, but for some reason I don't believe you.” Stifling a yawn, you gave Alastor a look.

“Now, now, don't be like that.” Alastor came and sat on the edge of the bed, using his magic to set the laptop on top of the dresser. “What can I do to convince you to sleep?”

Leaning back, you thought for a moment. When the idea hit you, your face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but you swallowed the anxiety. He did ask, after all.

“Sing to me?”

Alastor laughed, causing you to glare. “Again with the ridiculous ideas!” When your face fell subconsciously, Alastor hesitated.

When he didn't say anything, you accepted the fact that it was a ridiculous request. Assuming he'd leave the room on his own accord, you used your magic to turn out the lights as you slid under the covers of your bed. You never did get all those spreadsheets done like you'd wanted.

“Parlez-moi d’amour.”

Alastor’s slightly-static-filled voice was quiet. His eyes faintly glowed in the dark and you watched him with wide eyes.

“Redites-moi des choses tendres.”

Smiling softly, you sank into the bed, closing your eyes and allowing Alastor’s comforting voice to wash over you.

“Votre beau discours /

“Mon cœur n'est pas las de l'entendre /

“Pourvu que toujours /

“Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes /

“Je vous aime.”

((The song))

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #plz don't come after me for the french #I just copy/pasted off google T-T #rhys-writes #alastor x reader queerplatonic

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galedekarios · 6 months

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gale & his mother, morena dekarios

i thought it'd be nice to have a place to compile everything i could find about gale's mother, morena dekarios.

the first time you as the player get a vague mention about gale's parents is after saving mirkon, when gale brings up a story about his parents denying him a kitten when he was still a child:

Gale: One time my parents denied me akitten, so I summoned myself a tressym.

if you play a gale origin playthrough, you get a mention of her much earlier from tara, after she joins the camp.

this is a camp dialogue with its variants from act i:

Tara the Tressym: Well, if it isn't my favourite fellow himself. Player: How are things back in Waterdeep? Tara the Tressym: More or less the same - though news of some mad faction calling themselves 'Absolutists' is starting to trickle in. Tara the Tressym: I told your mother not to worry. That if they were anything to worry about, Baldur's Gate would handle things quick-sharp. Keep them from spreading their tendrils north. She still wants to know when she'll see you again, sir. I avoid giving any answers. But she misses you. Player: I miss her too. Tara the Tressym: I'll tell her. With my Cat Flap of Displacement, I can afford the occasional visit. I'd bring you along, if I could. Perhaps some day. - Player: I can't risk putting her in danger. Tara the Tressym: I know that, but she doesn't. She'd keel over if she knew just how you'd tried to manipulate the Weave. Or maybe she'd just say something like, 'My Gale always was one to make the impossible possible.' Oh, but she adores you. - Player: No more guilt trips, Tara. Please. Tara the Tressym: But then whatever will we talk about? Anyhow - I'm keeping my senses pricked for any sign of another item that might be of use to you. Hopefully something will turn up soon.

it's clear from the dialogue that gale's mother worries about him and loves him - adores him, really.

it also becomes clear that she doesn't know what happened to gale and that he nor tara has not told her.

another mention from act i, again from tara:

Tara the Tressym: Please tell me you've at least made inroads when it comes to finding someone to settle down with. Myself and Mrs Dekarios are starting to think you intend to die alone. Player: You've been visiting my mother? Tara the Tressym: Naturally. After you abandoned her, there was only me left to keep her company. She's very good company, though. Ah, the stories we've traded over toast and tea. You're a highly entertaining source of speculation. But speculation only goes so far! Tell me, Mr Dekarios - how have you been?

tara and morena are implied to have tea together regularly enough to trade stories about gale. tara is implied to be a sort of messenger between the two of them, likely after gale's isolation and subsequent abduction by the nautiloid, keeping morena informed, yet without revealing gale's secret and shame.

the devnotes also state that tara loves morena - high praise since other devnotes states that tara hates everyone except gale - and that she talks of her in an affectionate tone.

this is a dialogue in act ii after mystra has tasked gale to use the orb the moment he finds the heart of the absolute:

Tara the Tressym: Promise me, Gale. Promise me you'll find another way. Promise me you'll return home, when this is all over. Player: I can't make that promise, Tara. Tara the Tressym: You're going to kill me. And your mother. And then there'll be no one to mourn you when you've wasted yourself for no good reason at all.

i find it very interesting here in terms of other relationships that tara explicitly says that there will be no one to mourn gale except morena and her should he heed mystra's instructions and sacrifice himself. it speaks of the bond between tara, morena and gale - but also even more of gale's isolation and loneliness. we know from tara that she considers herself to be gale's only old friend and gale echoes as much. we also know that gale describes the dekarios family as the dekarios clan, that is "scattered" far and wide.

at the same time, the loud silence about gale's father becomes really apparent again. a while ago, i speculated about gale's father and i truly do still think that he abandoned morena and gale.

another snippet from an act ii convo, before gale reveals the details of elminster's letter to tara (or chosing to keep it to himself):

Tara the Tressym: I'm not one to pry. I'd rather make up all the juicy details myself over tea with your mother.

which again ties in with a similar line from act i, further cementing the fact that this is a regular thing between tara and morena.

still in act ii, tara says this if gale asks her if she'll still love him if he is a mindflayer:

Player: Will you love me when I'm a mind flayer? Tara the Tressym: Depends. Are mind flayers warm-blooded? If so, my prize napping spot on your lap won't be compromised. In which case, I suppose we could find an accord. And, of course, your mother would still think you a prince, no matter how many tentacles you had. And with a nautiloid, you may even manage to visit her more often.

again, gale's mother truly adores him. tara is utterly convinced she'd love him even if he'd turn into a mind flayer. at the same time, the dialogue again hammers home the fact that gale's been keeping his distance from his mother after he has acquired the orb.

the following lines are a compilation of some of tara's lines from act iii, all once again stating that she is a messenger between gale and morena, keeping morena informed about gale's well-being, while also looking after morena in gale's absence from waterdeep:

Tara the Tressym: You're almost at the end of this, Gale. You're nearly there. And not a moment too soon. Myself, I must away to Waterdeep. Your mother will be worried silly not to have heard from either of us - and now I can bring her the good news. When this is all over I'll be waiting for you, with a crackling fire and good book at the ready. Good luck, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'm well past due to return to Waterdeep. I'm going to tell your mother that you'll be home soon. Don't make a liar of me, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'll have to make up some good news for your dear mother, then. I'm going home, Gale. To look after Mrs Dekarios, and to remind you that there are people waiting for you in Waterdeep.

going back to companion gale, the next mention of gale's mother after saving mirkon, is from gale in an ambient with karlach:

Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away.devnote Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.

it echoes the lines of dialogue that origin gale has, believing he endangers his mother with his condition and thus keeping his distance.

gale mentions his mother in an act iii dialogue after meeting tara on the rooftop of the open hand temple:

Gale: My tower in Waterdeep boasts an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. Not to mention a larder stocked with my homemade hundur sauce. Player: Hundur sauce? Gale: A Waterdhavian delicacy, spiced to leave exactly the right amount of heat lingering on the tongue, and served with that most sharp-toothed of aquarian residents, the quipper fish. I make it to my mother's recipe. It packs quite a wallop. As does she.

we know that gale's the designated camp cook from a conversation with wyll, and i think the conversation makes it fair to assume that gale's mother taught him how to cook.

still, maybe it's because i'm not a native english speaker and i might be missing some cultural context here, but the line "it packs quite a wallop. as does she." stuck out to me:

wallop. to hit something / someone hard.

this could mean that gale's seen her hit someone and packing quite a punch behind it. with what's been described of morena so far, i doubt it's because gale's ever been on the receiving end of that.

or perhaps it's less literal and more in relation to her seemingly larger than life personality that gale also hints at later, describing his mother as "intimitable" and "sometimes unavoidable". this description is from the following conversation that is currently sadly still bugged:

Player: So your last name is Dekarios? Gale: It is. Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios. It's been so long since I've used it. 'Gale Dekarios' cut a poor figure next to the wizard prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep'. Player: Gale Dekarios... I think I like him more. Gale: You like to many things about me I'd have sooner discarded... Your generosity is quite wonderful. Gale Dekarios likes you too. Very, very much. Though let's keep his exitence between ourselves for now. - Player: Doesn't your matter mind? Gale: Oh, she's happy if I'm happy. Morena couldn't care one jot what I call myself. Tara's the real stickler for using it. Has done since I summoned her. I'd prefer you not follow her exmaple, if that's all the same to you. 'Gale' is more than sufficient. - Player: You're right. Just 'Gale is better. Gale: I agree. And on the plus side, if I get myself into any truly cataclystic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

i love this banter so much and it makes me very sad that larian still hasn't fixed the issue of it not triggering. there's so much lore to explore here:

from gale dropping 'dekarios' in favour of 'of waterdeep', at first, to appear perhaps more grandiose, more suited to the ambitions he held when he was younger, to morena, apparently, not minding it, yet tara clinging to 'dekarios' (perhaps to keep gale's feet on solid ground as much as she could), to finally finding out that the reason that the gale we meet now is not using 'dekarios' still is because he doesn't wish to tarnish his family name should he indeed fall victim to the orb.

the last mention gale makes of his mother is during his act iii post final battle dialogue, in which he proposes to the player:

Gale: That being said, I wondered if you might consider accompanying me back to Waterdeep as a new member of the Dekarios clan? Player: Are you asking me to marry you? Gale: I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted. Not to mention my mother. But I'd be just as happy without such ceremony, so long as we're together.

this again mirrors what tara has been saying in her dialogue with an origin gale in act i: that morena and her were hoping he would find someone to find happiness with.

i think overall, even with only the very few bits and pieces we learn of morena, it's easy to tell that she truly loves and adores and cares her son, and that that love and care is clearly echoed back from gale to morena.

still, or perhaps more likely because of that love, gale keeps his secrets and his distance to morena because of the orb and the shame he feels he brought to his family.

it's all too easy to imagine that he wishes her to be proud of him and that he feels he has disappointed her and given her little reason to be proud of him in the same vein that he feels he has done with tara:

Gale: She'd [Tara] be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I've given her little to be proud of recently.

anyhow, i hope i caught all mentions and that this was helpful to someone. 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #morena dekarios #tara the tressym #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #ch: morena dekarios #ch: tara the tressym #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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Hey, this might require a little research. I’m just curious if Vox sometimes gets nostalgic for his own time (1940s-1950s) and if collegestudent!Reader would sometimes appeal to his “old man” interests? Like playing music that was popular during that time, or wearing fashion from then, or going to a drive-in movie theater (I’m assuming there are places that cater to certain decades in hell since cannibal town is so 1930s it’s insane)?

Nostalgic Memories

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Funnily enough, it was briefly touched upon in one of the interludes that dear Reader actually took some time to research about some stuff around the era Vox was alive in just to understand him a little better. They personally don't like collecting antiques of a time they didn't live in- but they do appreciate the unique fashion style and trends of the time period. It's often a joke between them about how "old" Vox is because of when he died despite not actually being that far in age biologically to (Y/N). (Vox died in his 30's, Reader is in their mid to late 20's) My personal taste actually quite matches the TV man's time period(I have a stupid amount of blazers and vests it's kinda idiotic lmao) so my preferences slightly bled into Reader's view on the vintage style. Anyway, here's a quick drabble about this because I literally just want more content between these two.

"Hey Vox! Come over! I wanna show you something!"

It was just a simple vague text he saw from you during a meeting. You could've been talking about quite literally anything for all the overlord knew. Sometimes what you found interesting was just so unpredictable that Vox eventually stopped trying to guess what was in store.

He grabbed his phone and shot back a quick reply, they were merely discussing some boring statistics anyway. He could spare you a minute.

"I'm in a meeting right now doll."

"Then afterwards! I promise it won't take long!"

Vox slightly raised an eyebrow at that, what had you possibly planned to suddenly be so persistent with him? Actually- what kind of insanity did you want to drag him into this time?

The overlord contemplated about replying when you continued to send message after message asking him to visit the hotel because of something you wanted him to see. After a bit of you asking, curiosity got the better of him and reluctantly he agreed.

"Fine, since you asked so nicely. But I won't stay for long okay? I'm a busy guy dollface."

"YAY! Thank you! I promise you'll enjoy it!"

He smiled at the text you sent back. Of course you plastered a number of cute emojis and hearts at the end of it. Whether it was meant to simply be friendly or a joking show of affection was easily lost on the overlord- but it was more than evident that his mood had improved if anyone else in the meeting had anything to say about it.

By the time Vox dropped by the hotel at your request, the last thing he expected was your peculiar outfit choice. It was a little older than what he generally attributed to your style, dare he say it was more reminiscent of his own outfit even.

"Okay, what's with the style change? Any special occasion?"

"Nah, I just wanted to try something new. Whaddya think? I really like the vibe too, real classy!"

The overlord just playfully rolled his eyes when you twirled to give him a full look at the outfit, what were you seriously trying to achieve this time? Did you dress this way on purpose for him?

If the excited way you looked up at him was any indication, Vox was inclined to believe you had tried to score some nostalgia points with him. Ironically, your ridiculousness was actually somehow working too.

"You look swell dear, who fashioned you the outfit though?"

"Lucifer helped me, dude's kind of a natural at balancing comfort and style."

Ah, that made a lot of sense.

Had Velvette fashioned you these clothes- Vox wouldn't have needed to come all the way to the hotel. Why the king of hell even entertained your shenanigans still struck him as a little odd- but not really unwelcome.

The overlord snapped out of his thoughts when he saw your hand extended out to him, the smile on your face only served to add to his confusion. What were you doing?

"Dance with me? Come on, don't tell me you don't know how."

Oh you were playing this game now? Well, Vox wasn't ever one to back down from a challenge. Not from anybody, and especially not from you.

"Oh it's on darling! But do try to keep up."

Your companion flicked his wrist as a jolt of electricity came out of his hand and blasted to your phone. Which had predictably started to blast some 40's tunes when he suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you to his chest.

"Oh please, as if you can even tire me."

You only returned his grin when you faced the overlord again, your hands intertwined with his claws as you both danced away happily engrossed in your own little world. Your laughs and banter echoing the hotel lobby accompanied by a vintage melody of songs long past their time.

Vox was supposed to be in and out of there in just an hour, but he lost track of time in his enjoyment with you that he'd accidentally socked his entire schedule that day.

Not that he could bring himself to care when you giggled and roped him back in for one more dance.

It was just one more, who was counting anyway?

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox #get off my screen series #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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wordy-little-witch · 2 months

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I'm caught perpetually teetering on the line between competent Buggy and absolutely fucked up into success Buggy, but I think I found a work around, and the reveal comes via Cross Guild - Mihawk specifically. Ergo, I thus drop little random numbers here for reading pleasure before I actually EXPLAIN it.

<><><><>

Crocodile

It was not abnormal for the clown to butt heads with the former warlord. They both had very strict and evident opinions, thought one (cough Buggy cough) was much more verbose about it. Running an expansive business with a bumbling fool of a face man was enough to instigate migraines in the most patient of men.

Crocodile was not a patient man.

One could only imagine the sheer agony of his day to day.

This came to a head, as such things tend to do, on a mundane Tuesday afternoon, barely past midday. Buggy had scuttled in, a veritable mess of a person, hair in disarray and sweaty. Crocodile had taken one look and sneered at the other in disgust. This, in turn, has set Buggy off.

The clown had apparently been out with the lower ranks, building rapport and assisting with the laborious tasks assigned to them. It was something he had done before titles had even been a passing thought to be disposed on his name, and he had made it abundantly clear that it would not stop now nor in the foreseeable future. Admittedly, Crocodile had tuned out much of it in preference for more entertaining thoughts, such as brutally mummifying a certain clown.

Thwack

Crocodile nearly dropped his cigar. He blinked, automatically turning a glowering glare at the other as he shifted his shoulders. Buggy simply huffed, pale though he was, meeting the dark scowl with one of his own.

"By the Seas, why do I even bother with you, I swear-!"

As fast as he had stumbled in, Buggy was gone. Crocodile stared after him well after the door clicked shut. He rubbed his shoulder with his remaining hand, grimacing thoughtfully. Buggy had hit him. Not hard enough to cause damage, not even enough to leave a bruise, but it stung. It had connected.

He was a Logia user, and the Clown had solidly hit him.

Thoughts racing, he tried to convince himself it must have been due to some leftover sweat from the physical activity the blue haired menace had been rambling about. Turning back to his paperwork, he firmly told himself that that was all there was to it.

He pointedly ignored the fact that Buggy's hands had been dry and dusted with dirt.

<><><><><><><>

Mihawk

Life on the island was much removed from the monotony of Kuraigana. It bustled with life here in a way both alien and vaguely familiar to the swordsman. Despite the brightness of the colors and the loudness of the cacophony, it was almost... charming.

He'd never admit that outloud, however.

One thing he did not find very enjoyable was the lack of challenge here. Most who used the blade and called this archipelago home withered under his attention, paled and bowed out from an offer to spar with stuttered excuses and fear in their hearts. It was disheartening, especially given how many of the showed halfway decent promise.

It was a slowly crawling Sunday evening when he happened across a small squadron of the newer recruits in one of the sandy clearings. Many were younger than expected yet carried a look of maturity far beyond the planes of their faces. Mihawk had found himself admittedly rather intrigued when Buggy had personally offered to welcome these young adults at best, teenagers at the lower end, to the Guild.

Even now, a few weeks into their stay on the isle, Mihawk noticed a marked change - a slight build of muscle mass, a more healthy coloring, cleaner clothes and faces. They were doing well, he noted.

They were also all working studiously with blades in hand.

He watched them work for a time, hidden into the shadowed spaces of the trees near the clearing, allowing himself but a moment of observation. His gaze inevitably shifted to their katas, their grips, their footwork. He frowned, brow furrowing slightly as he considered them, the oddly familiar movements ringing an unnamed bell within his mind.

A bright laugh distracted him, and he turned a glance to Audrey, one of the younger recruits, spinning fluidly between a parry, redirection, and then a slash. Her bright red plait swirled after her, and suddenly Mihawk was standing straighter, walking into the clearing.

The jovial air was quickly hushed, eyes growing wide as many bowed their heads in deference. Audrey met his gaze head on with a reckless defiance undercut only by the sheer terror she tucked behind bravado in her summer green gaze. "Sir," she nodded once, voice impressively level despite the white knuckles grip on her blade, now held at ease yet defensive.

He nodded once in response. "My apologies to have interrupted," he announced cooly. "I found you all practicing by chance and am quite pleased by your skills. It is evident you have an acceptable level of respect for the craft."

Many faces lit up at the compliment. Audrey herself smiled brightly, showing a little gap in her smile. Somehow, it made him almost fond of such a look.

"That being said," he continued before any further reaction could be given, "the swordplay you lot have been utilizing, wherever did you learn it?"

"C-Captain Buggy, s-sir!" A blond lad responded brightly with a smile, enthusiasm not defeated by his stutter. Thómas, if Hawkeye recalled correctly. "H-He has b-bee-been teaching us-s," the other hiccupped happily.

"The..."

"Chairmen Buggy said he knew a few styles. For now, we're learning this one - he said it would be easiest on us for the time being. Once we're stronger, he'll help us find individual styles to expand on!"

"Is that so," he replied absently, mind racing. He knew this style - he'd been on the receiving end of it more than once, after all. Never once had he considered that Shanks' impeccable footwork may have been a set style. It had seemed too randomized, too shaken from the norm to have a specific sequencing. And yet...

And yet.

"The Chairmen knows this style well enough to teach it then."

"Yes sir!"

"Mm. Thank you, then. You have given me much to think on. Keep up the good work."

Leaving just as suddenly as he'd arrived, the swordsman set on a straight path to the animal tents. The clown would doubtlessly be there at this time of day. Mihawk had gotten a general idea of the man's excessive schedule in his time on the island after finding the other's Presence too soft and wisp-like to pinpoint.

Yet a other odd thing about the clown, he supposed, making his way along.

Finding the clown had been easy. Guiding him from the masses had been equally so. Convincing him to spar had been... not. If anything, it had been loud, expressive and interspersed with crying. It had taken Mihawk quite explicitly swearing formally to not kill the other outright for Buggy to even stop his pathetic yet endearing tears.

Mihawk shook the latter thought off as quickly as it came.

Buggy asked if his daggers would suffice as a weapon, citing that Mihawk had been the one to ask for a spar, after all, and thus had a decent amount of choice. Pleasantly surprised by the clown's knowledge of the code, he'd cited it would be fine, as he would not be utilizing Yoru for this regardless.

They took their positions on opposite ends of their designated battle ground, eying one another carefully. With the clown right before him, Mihawk focused his Haki, intending not to quite crush the other but to study him as thoroughly as possible, to push his limits as it were.

Buggy surprisingly opted to play it safe, not lunging forward in a reckless attack as he so often seemed to do. Taking the signal, Mihawk moved instead, intending to push the other back, to catalogue his steps. Instead, Buggy twirled, one knife sliding sinfully along his own before looping back off again, redirecting his momentum easily without incurring nor causing any damage.

The dark haired man blinked.

He'd... barely felt the other move.

Typically Haki would ebb and flow around a person or object with the movements of the host. Split seconds before one moved towards the left, their Haki would lean into the motion. Identifying, studying and reacting to the Haki as opposed to the physical form took years of practice and mastery, something Hawkeye excelled in. His Observation was rumored to be on the same scale as Charlotte Katakuri, after all.

And yet a clown had blind sided him.

In response, he turned, rerouting his energy into a graceful arc. This time, he saw Buggy move, body fluid as he shifted around the threat despite his Devil Fruit. Mihawk wondered absently if the Haki would cause damage before he lunged backwards as a dagger came dangerously close to his mustache. He allowed his surprise to show for a moment, gaze darting to Buggy. He'd expected a stunned look, perhaps a smug, prideful expression.

The face which met him was closed off, locked down tightly, offset even further by the garish painted smile on the other's sun kissed face. Buggy's eyes, usually a soft blue that summoned the skies to his very irises had frozen over into something iced and glacier like. Mihawk was fascinated.

Their dance continued on, far longer than the taller had anticipated. Their deadly dance was near silent, save the sharp swish of silk-sheering sharp blades through air.

Mihawk made one more movement in, managing to chip away at defenses to leave an opening for his knife to slip in silently. The blade cut through cloth and - not skin, not flesh, but something. Mihawk was suddenly frozen in place, staring at where the blade sat innocently up to the hilt in the new gap between Buggy's lower and upper ribs.

"Well, guess that call it, then," the blue haired man sighed, pulling back his hands to resheath his weapons. "That was a hell of a work out, man, you are fast as fuck. Nngh~" He stretched, a few vertebrae popping as he stepped back to spin on the ball of his foot, hair swishing. "Want to head back? Dinner ought to be ready soon. ... Mihawk?"

The dark haired man had since straightened, staring between his blade and Buggy's body, whole and hale. "... is this the reason for your oddities?"

"What?"

"You... why would you..."

Buggy, now wary, seemed to debate his next move. That was all Mihawk needed to meet the otherr man's gaze head on.

"It is nearly impossible to completely suppress one's Haki, and yet yours fits you like a second skin. It is hardened, expansive, and dense." He frowned. "It is... frankly speaking, more than merely intimidating."

Buggy rubbed his elbow. "Don't... over think it, okay? It's nothing special-"

"It is."

"It isn't, okay-?"

"It is and you do so without so much as uttering an indicator. Your Haki is so tightly bound that I could feel the moment my blade passed that barrier. You have and continue to actively do what many consider impossible." He stepped closer. Buggy stepped back. Mihawk followed. "You use an impossible technique with your Haki." Step. "You are teaching a recruit squadron swordplay in the steangest yet most effective manner I have seen in a long while." Step. "You certainly used Armament during this exchange on instinct alone." Step. Thump. Buggy stared uo, huddled back to a tree trunk. Mihawk leaned into his space. "And, perhaps strangest of all, you use a variation of Shanks' Violeta Vendetta for your bladed battles. Tell me just who or what you are, clown - because a fool or failure is not among them."

Silence reigned in the clearing.

Mihawk stared.

Buggy gulped. "He still... calls it that?"

What. "What?"

"Red hair... bastard stills calls her Violeta...?"

Mihawk nodded. Buggy laughs.

And then? Well, then Buggy explains

#buggy the clown #competent buggy #cross guild #my ficlets #im sleepy #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #ocs mentioned

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shut-up-danny-kun · 22 days

Text

I've read hundreds of Star Trek TOS fics by now and it never ceases to amuse me how many different ways there are to fuck up Spock's characterization...now hold on just a minute - this post has a more interesting point than “fanfic writers stupid”, I promise you.

Every time, it's a spin on the massacre wheel. It's kind of amazing. Will he be overly emotional to the point where he's not himself anymore? Will he be so cold it's unpleasant and kind of hard to understand how he's lived to this point? Will he be extremely horny for no good reason? Will he speak in a way that sounds complety wrong?

I chuckle and shake my head. Of course, I KNOW what Spock is like, and MY interpretation of him is the most perfect and correct one. Obviously. He's just a very nuanced character, formed by many people in an unconventional way, with traits that seem to contradict each other at first but ultimately form a rich and unique character that so many people fell in love with specifically because he's so complicated...

Or...is he?

Let's entertain the idea that there isn't one correct interpretation of Spock, that all of these messy bits of characterization are not part of a bigger picture, but...just what they are: a product of many people with starkly different visions, working on a show that refuses to properly develop its characters. What then? Well, then Spock is a Rorschach test. Each viewer connects the random dots in their own way, and ignores the ones they don't like.

Let's use an example: me! In my interpretation of Spock (the most correct one, of course) he is, first of all, gay and on the asexual spectrum, reserved, largely uninterested in casual flirting or sex. When he is interested in the aforementioned things, he tends to be quite ashamed of it.

Makes sense, right? I can show you plenty of evidence for why that could be true. However, in the beginning of the first bloody season, Uhura sings a song about how Spock is actually kind of a heartthrob who likes to drive women insane with how hot he is, and Spock smiles. He smiles at her, as if agreeing and being very amused by all this! This interaction goes against pretty much everything I think about Spock. So what do I do? I explain it away in the most bizzare fucking way possible. See, Uhura and Spock are friends (there is no evidence for this), and Uhura knows everything I've just told you about him (through telepathy I guess? Not like he'd ever tell her!) and she's just trolling him (why would she do that? That is NOTHING like Uhura!). I need to do some Olympics-level mental gymnastics here, the opposite of Occam's razor.

“But Danny,” I hear you say, “it's just the start of the show! They hadn't figured out his character yet!”

To which I say: you can say that about anything! You can blame it all on a bad writer for that episode, and ignore virtually any scene that doesn't jive with your headcanons. It's there, and I can't ignore it.

So...how am I different from the people that want Spock to be thar heartthrob Uhura is singing about? That evidence is as much a part of canon as my favorite lines. Well, I'm not any different, that's the thing. And all those writers I complained about also have a point.

It's kind of a nihilistic take, I know, but maybe the reason Spock is such a cultural icon is because he is...whatever you want him to be: just concrete enough to spur on your imagination, yet vague and contradictory enough to let your brain fill in the gaps.

Don't get me wrong: I absolutely do not believe in this. In my mind, it just so happens that I'm one of the, like, 5 people ever who truly understood Spock (and one of them is Jim Kirk himself). But I still think it's something worth thinking about next time you're mad at a fic.

#star trek tos #spirk #s'chn t'gai spock #spock #tos spock #character analysis #dannytypes #takes

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archangeldyke-all · 20 days

Note

hihi angel! i’m sorry tumblr keep eating ur asks 😔 i sent in a few but i don’t think you got them so here’s one!:

so, let's say that r and sevika have been married for a few years now. things have definitely mellowed out so they try something new!

every once in a while sev and reader will play a game. the rules are: go out to a club/bar, act like we don't know each other, one of us tries to seduce the other, whoever manages to get the other "in bed" wins.

how would this play out?

🌕

i love this so much.

men and minors dni

you sigh, taking another sip of the wine in front of you as you shuffle through the papers on the bar. it's finals season, and as a professor, you're swamped with grading.

you rarely take work outside of school or your little desk at home, but you needed a change of environment after grading papers for six hours straight in your apartment. so, here you are, a little tipsy and trying to keep your grading as harsh as usual as the alcohol mellows you out.

"professor?" a voice rasps out. you look up from your papers, pushing your reading glasses up to sit on your head, and blink at the woman in front of you.

you recognize her, vaguely. you teach five different classes, the average class size is close to 200 students. so you don't know her name. but as you study her face, she becomes more familiar to you. you smile.

"you're the one who's always cracking open a red bull in the middle of my lectures." you accuse, pointing at the woman in front of you.

she chuckles and nods, ducking her head in embarrassment.

"sorry. three hour lecture at five o'clock... i get sleepy." she admits. you chuckle.

"i'm not entertaining enough for you?" you ask. she gasps.

"no! y-you're very entertaining! my favorite class! i just have to get up early on tuesdays so i'm tired by the ti--"

"relax." you cut her off, giggling. "i hate the evening classes too. mostly, i'm just sad you've never brought me a red bull."

she grins. "i'm sevika." she thrusts her hand forward. you shake it, smiling at her.

"hello, sevika. i think i remember your paper." you say, chuckling.

"really?"

"mhm. just graded it an hour ago." you nod.

she sits in the stool next to you, grinning. "well?" she asks. you chuckle.

"well, what?"

"how'd i do?" she asks. you smirk at her.

"well, i can't tell you that." you say. she pouts.

"no?" she asks. you shake your head no. she hums, then turns around and flags down the bartender. "another, for her. and a whiskey for me." she requests. he nods and walks away, and you raise an eyebrow at your student.

"i'm still not telling you your grade."

"what, i can't buy my favorite professor a drink at the end of the semester as a thanks?" she asks. you roll your eyes and lean back in your stool, willing to entertain this for a few minutes before you go back to grading. you need a quick break anyways.

"am i really your favorite, or are you just saying that?" you ask. the bartender delivers your drinks, and you take a sip while sevika answers.

"no, you're my favorite by far." she promises. you snort.

"so, sevika, what're you studying?" you ask.

sevika chokes on her whiskey, glares at you, and then composes herself. you have to bite back a laugh. "uh... math?" she guesses.

you burst into laughter. "'re you guessing or telling?"

"telling." she decides, nodding. "math."

you have to bite your lip to keep from surging forward and kissing her right here and now. her eyes catch on the action, and you have to kick her under the bar to keep her from doing anything stupid. "and how did you find yourself in an english class, math major?"

sevika grins, and scoots even closer to you. "i heard the professor was a stunner." she says. "wanted to see for myself. i would've dropped the fuckin' class if it wasn't you teaching. i hate writing. but... it's nice lookin' at you for three hours a week." she whispers.

you gulp, reaching forward to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "that explains your horrible paper."

sevika bursts into laughter, then downs the rest of her drink. you do the same, sensing that your night might be headed somewhere else. "is there anything i can do for extra credit?" she asks, her eyes trailing down your body.

butterflies explode in your stomach. you tilt your head to the side, examining your student and licking your lips. "i think i could figure something out." you say.

thirty minutes later, you're back at your place, sevika on her knees in front you as she helps you get into your strap harness.

you help her stand again once she's done, and then jump on her bed and make yourself comfortable in the middle. she blinks at you.

"what?"

"why're you laying down?" sevika asks, as she crawls onto bed after you. you chuckle as she hovers over you, pulling her down for a kiss.

"honey, if you want the extra credit, you gotta earn it." you mumble against her lips. you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing at the way sevika's eyes go all wide and glossy. "now be a good girl 'n ride it."

sevika's breath trembles, and she scrambles to follow your instructions, quickly straddling your hips and lining your cock up to her.

sevika doesn't hesitate to sink down and take you in a single go. it makes you whimper. she grins, her eyes rolling in the back of her skull as she adjusts to the stretch. you sink your fingers in her hips, grinning up at her. "there you go, baby."

"f-fuck." she whines as she starts grinding small circles against you. "fuck. been dreamin' about this."

you giggle. "yeah?" you ask. sevika leans forward, planting her hands on either side of your shoulders as she starts to ride you. you both groan.

"y-yes. god, fuck, it's your voice. i re-watch the lectures you post online 'n touch myself to the sound of you." she whimpers. you gasp, pleasure coursing through you at her revelation, and start thrusting in time with sevika's movements, desperate for more.

"shit, baby, tell me more." you whine.

your eyes are locked on her tits-- swaying in time with her movements. sevika's muffling her moans against the top of your head. "ffffuck-- fuck, love those glasses you wear." she whines.

you chuckle. "yeah?"

"and those fuckin', shit, ah, those blazers." sevika whines.

you smack her ass. she gasps, pulls away to glare at you. you smirk up at her. "keep goin' baby, you got a D on your paper." you encourage. sevika rolls her eyes and flicks your forehead, and you burst into giggles pulling her in for a kiss.

"pause." she whispers against your lips. you hum, nodding up at her, waiting to hear what she needs to tell you as your real-life wife.

"you okay?"

"i'd never get a D on a paper, babe. c'mon." she huffs. you burst into laughter, smacking her ass again before pulling her in for another kiss.

"how's C sound?"

"fine." she grunts, before sitting up and starting to ride you again. "unpause." she grunts. "so, where's my grade at now, professor?" she asks.

you giggle up at her, palming at her tits. "well, you started at a C." you emphasize. sevika nods, grinning down at you. you chuckle. "i'd say you're at a solid B+ now." you say. she grins.

"yeah? how do i make it an A?" she asks. you grin.

"well, for an A i wanna see you cum on my cock, baby. for an A+, you'll make me cum too." you shrug.

sevika loves a challenge-- and it's not like either of you are too far from cumming. she readjusts, bringing her hands down on your tits to steady herself as she starts to bounce on your dick.

the new angle makes you both moan. the base of the strap's pressing on your cunt over and over, and from the way she's shivering you know it's hitting sevika's g-spot, too. you reach between your bodies to start rubbing her clit. she groans.

"professor!" she exclaims. you giggle a bit. "fuck, i'm gonna--"

"yeah? gonna cum all over my cock, baby? go ahead, honey, i know you want it. know you've been dreamin' about it for weeks. sittin' in class, watchin' me work. when you'd go home after-- were you wet?" you ask.

sevika whimpers and nods. you grin.

"good. cum on this dick 'n show me how wet you can get for me." you demand. sevika growls, bites your throat, and cums on top of you. you try your best to keep thrusting into her as she shakes, whispering encouragement to her as you do. "there you go, baby. there you go."

eventually sevika stops moving and whining, and you smack her ass a third time. she grunts against you.

"you okay?" you ask, dropping your proper professor voice. she nods against you.

"i gotta get my A+." she mumbles, smacking your shoulder with a limp hand. "take your strap off so i can eat you out."

you snort. "you gotta get off the strap before i can take it off, babe."

sevika groans. "nooo." she whines. you kiss her cheek.

"stay here, baby. 's long as you need." you say, wrapping your arms around her and scratching her head. she huffs.

"'m just gonna nap for, like, ten minutes." she promises. "n' then i'll get to you. wake me up, okay?" she asks. you snort and pepper her head with kisses.

"alright." you giggle.

sevika's just about to start snoring when she blinks back awake, looking up at you.

"i love you." she says, smiling. "this was fun and all, but. i'm glad your my wife 'n not my professor."

you grin. "i love you too, baby."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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honey-beann · 9 months

Text

This is a weird way to come back into writing fics again, but here's a very vaguely edited fic that I wrote a while back to get me back into the groove of posting. I hope you like sick reader x snarky bastard fics lol.

Thoroughly Analyzed (rk900 x reader)

Word Count: 1,005

"Oh fuck off, Gavin, I'm not sick!"

You all but sputtered, your cheeks dusted a light pink as you stood in front of your friend and coworker's desk, arms crossed and hip cocked to the side while you eyed him with as much disdain as you could muster.

"Are you being serious, dumb ass? You babysat Chris' kid while it had the flu four days ago, and now you're drinking tea and popping cough drops at your desk like it's your job. Just admit you were an idiot and go home."

You scoffed, glaring at Gavin as you moved away to sit down in your desk chair before turning it to face him once more.

"It wasn't a bad idea for me to babysit the kid, Reed, and I definitely did not get sick because of an eighteen month old child. Now do you have anything of substance to say, or can I finally get back to work?"

You watched as Gavin rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly under his breath as he turned his attention back to his monitor,

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say, loser. Good luck nursing yourself back to health without taking a day off work."

Fighting the urge to flip off your coworker, you instead turned your gaze towards your own monitor, only to find yourself looking right above it and into the eyes of your department's rk900 model android, who had long since been dubbed 'Nines'.

You swallowed thickly, wincing shortly thereafter at the pain that action caused within your throat before catching yourself and forcing a polite smile,

"Hey Nines, what's up?"

You asked as casually as you could manage, watching as the android in question raised a brow before motioning towards Gavin, who had started watching your interaction the moment you'd spoken aloud.

You shrugged, trying not to pay your human coworker too much mind as you cleared your throat again awkwardly before attempting to speak once more, though your voice did sound notably strained this time,

"Reed told me last week that babysitting Chris' kid while he was sick was a bad idea because it was sure to get me sick too. I told him that my body was strong enough to fight off whatever an eighteen month old had, and he bet me twenty bucks that I'd be too sick to come to work within the week. That was four days ago, and now he's doing his best to convince me to go home since he's gotten it in his head that I caught the flu from the kid."

Nines' gaze was cold and stern as he stood, his arms crossed as he took a step closer,

"Did you?"

He asked, and you allowed yourself a moment to get lost in said gaze, however cold it may have been, before snapping out of it, remembering your promise to keep things professional at work.

Wouldn't want anyone catching on, after all.

"Wha- no, of course I didn't."

You sputtered nervously, hearing Gavin chuckle as he watched you from his seat, clearly amused and more than a little entertained.

"Are you sure about that, Detective?"

Nines pressed, taking another two steps closer to where you were sitting as he watched you calmly, a slight smirk making its way to his lips all the while.

"Because I have noticed a bit of a drop in your performance throughout the past two days, and it is part of policy that sick employees remain at home for necessary rest."

You shivered at the sound of Nines' voice, but did your best to play it cool despite your physical reaction to his now significantly closer presence.

"I-I'm fine I promise. I think I've just been a little tired, is all..."

You trailed off as the android in question moved to stand directly beside you, his hand falling to the back of your chair and turning it in his direction, thus forcing you to face him head on as he gazed down at you intently, that smirk remaining all the while.

"Oh really? Well, if you're just tired, I don't suppose you'd mind a routine test of your health?"

"A routine test of my health? No but what exactly-"

You were cut off by a pair of familiar lips crashing into yours as an equally familiar hand moved to cup your chin, tilting your face upward as you gasped into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed against your will. You remained this way for several seconds, until finally, Nines pulled away, humming as he looked down at you with both amusement and exasperation evident in his expression,

"According to my analysis of your saliva, you are suffering from the common flu, detective. Please gather your things and allow me to bring you home. I will inform the captain of our absence."

Unable to argue, you nodded meekly, your hand briefly raising to touch your subtly bruised lips before you snapped out of it and hurried to get your things together, trying desperately to ignore Gavin's shocked expression all the while.

Nines, on the other hand, seemed eager to bask in your shared coworker's surprise, and was in no apparent rush to leave, gathering his own belongings with the swift and relaxed ease that seemed to come so naturally to him.

Once everything was together, however, he made no effort to poke at Gavin further, simply guiding you by your elbow to the door as Reed began to follow suit, sputtering various questions, most of which were nonsensical and jumbled.

Eventually though, as the front door loomed before the two of you, Nines did stop and turn towards the man, his lips twitching upward ever so slightly as he smoothly withdrew his wallet from his pocket before reaching into it, his gaze never leaving Gavin's all the while.

"Oh, and thank you for your concern for my partner's well being, Detective Reed."

He said cheekily as he handed the man in question a twenty dollar bill before exiting the building entirely with you at his side.

#dbh x reader #c: nines #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #dbh nines x reader #dbh fics #dbh x reader fluff

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kaylinababy · 9 months

Text

Longing For More [v]

⤷ Uzui Tengen x Fem!Reader x Rengoku Kyojuro

♡ back to portal ♡ demon slayer ♡ series ♡ words: 3.4k | reading: n/a

tags fem!reader, slow burn (not kidding in the slightest), angst central, suggestive, emotional cheating, fluff, depression, manipulation, maladaptive daydreaming. (lmk if i missed any!)

The silence in the carriage is suffocating, you can’t believe Tengen actually pulled through. After getting off the carriage, you were walking behind Tengen into your shared estate. Suddenly, before stepping inside completely, Tengen grabs your right hand and pulls you along, walking speedily until you both reach your shared room upstairs. As you’re being pulled, you notice the three women staring at you both with their mouths agape. You feel a bit self-conscious as they mumble to each other, but Tengen doesn't seem to care. You're a bit taken aback by his behavior, unsure of what is happening.

“Tengen” you whisper, as he fumbles with the buttons on your cardigan. You look up at him in shock, but he's not looking at you in the way he usually does either. His gaze… it's empty and filled with annoyance. You feel a lump in your throat, unsure of what to say. He rolls his eyes away from yours, and puts his focus onto your cardigan in his hand before he throws it in the laundry bin. You stand there, frozen, unsure of what he's thinking. He lets out a sigh and cups your face. “Listen-” he says, his voice low and urgent. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do, but it needs to end… I want to trust you, my love.” You close your eyes as he continues rambling what he has memorized. His ‘I care for us’ conversations always go the same way, until you or him make a vague promise and it’s back to normal. No use in listening to him.

Eventually you cut him off, “Tengen, you're utterly ridiculous.” He looks at you quizzically and lets go of your face. “What’s ridiculous about me wanting the truth?” He grabs you by the chin and gently forces eye contact. “Say it. Did you do anything with him or not? Because I see no problem-” You sigh “You’re such a pain…” You both have a staring match that seems to calm him down, before he embraces you. “You better not have. Put your arms around my neck.” He picks you up by your rear and carries you towards the bed. You don’t struggle, but have worries about what is about to happen when his behavior ramps up. “What did you even do today? Since you're in my business and all.” You say with attitude, staring at his chest. Tengen caressed your hair and brushes it out of your face. “Let's not get into it right now.” He sets you down on the bed.

You feel a bit disappointed before clarifying “What did you do with the other wives… today?” He smirks at you. “That's none of your business, dear.” He slowly climbs on top of you. You furrow your brows “Excuse me?” He gives you a peck on the lips. “You heard me, my love.” He moves his nose along your neck. “Tengen... why would I entertain this?” you barely whisper. He kisses your jaw before whispering “Oh, don't you worry, because I'm going to make it up to you.” He moves his hand up your thigh. You interrupt his vagueness, “They're going to hear...” He mumbles that he knows before you speak up and make him retract his face and hands from your body.

“It doesn't feel right tonight, especially after your little... show earlier.” He scoots himself back from you, crossing his arms. His smug smile fades. “What's the matter, my love? Do you not want me tonight? It’s been-” He stops to lean down, observing your face. “I just...” You kiss him twice rapidly “Not tonight. I'm not in the mood for you.” He raises an eyebrow before smiling. “Is it my turn to say ‘excuse me’?” He gets off of you and stands upright. He’s silent for a while, his face blank. “You don't want me?” Tengen says with a deeper voice. You sigh dramatically “Bigger picture, Tengen.” He laughs at your hands forming a picture frame. “What's that supposed to mean, y/n? You don't wanna get lucky so we can make the other wives jealous, or what?” He laughs once more, caressing your cheek.

You gasp dramatically trying to mask your confusion “Oh? So that's what you do to me, huh?” You raise your voice as you stand up from the bed, making Tengen take a couple steps back. “That's what I do to all of my wives, y/n.” He adjusts himself and makes his way towards the door before turning to face you. You cross your arms “Yeah, go away.” He points a finger at you. “Don't get all mad now, my love. I'm just going to do the deed myself.” He smiles before speaking again “So you’re going to keep me updated, right?”

Before you can start walking past him out of the room, Tengen crosses his arms and stands before you. You look at him confused. “Journal.” You furrow your brows “What-” He cuts you off “I want you to keep a journal of what you do over there, y/n.” The shock on your face is palpable, your eyes starting to ache. “You want me to write about what? Oh, my daily chores and recipes? I mean…” You don’t know what to think. Tengen’s face is unmoving, and this new control tactic seems ridiculous and a stretch. “My love, it’s just for a little while. Were you listening to me?” You’re about to rip his head off. “What is the purpose? Where is this coming from, Tengen?” He looks at you blankly. “If it’s a boring day, then add cute doodles for me.” He leaves you as you scoff, hoping he forgets about that request.

After changing into your nightgown, you go downstairs to say hello to the other wives. Finding them outside, you sit in between Makio and Hina in their little circle as everyone adjusts overall. “I’m sorry I couldn't greet you all earlier…” They giggle and don't seem to be phased by this. Hina comforts “No worries. We know how he can be sometimes.” The three of them chuckle again. “Hmm, I bet.” You say, a tad jealous since you haven’t witnessed him do that before. The rest of the night was quiet and uneventful, since everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. Before bed, Tengen reminded us that he loved us all and that he was training early in the morning. Makio groaned while the rest of us cheered, causing him to scowl and mumble rant.

In the morning, you decided to get information out of them, since it really was rare for all the girls to get time away from Tengen when inside the estate. If Tengen wasn’t going to tell you what happened the day before, they certainly will. “What did you guys do yesterday with Tengen?” All three looked at their food or drink at the breakfast table. “Not a lot” says Suma, “He kept running off to do his own thing…” The three exchange glances. You widen your eyes “What is that about?” Makio speaks with her mouth full, “He's acting strange.” Hina nods “Maybe something happened. I noticed it too.” Suma shrugs. You feel uneasy. “Any theories?” you say to no one in particular. The three of them sit there, completely stumped.

Suma swallows her bite of food “Well, this might be a stretch but-” You all look at her intensely. Makio exclaims “But what?” She looks around, nervous to speak her mind. Suma barely makes out “I have a feeling.. that Tengen is cheating on us...” The tension between all four of you has drastically risen. The silence in this tense moment seems to last forever. You feel like rolling your eyes. Hina’s voice is feathery “That can't be it.” Makio scowls “That's crazy to think that!” You speak up “I just can't believe he'd do something like that.” Everyone is in a state of denial, not believing that Tengen could be doing such a thing. You continue, “Tengen has many flaws but... I don't think...”

Suma butts in “I mean, look at how he's been acting. He doesn't spend time with us anymore!” The three of them sigh in frustration, realizing that it might actually be a possibility. However, you seem confused, thinking that they all got along well. “What? Are you guys crazy, too? Tengen spends a lot of time with you guys!” You aggressively chew your food. Makio pouts “True, but it's just not the same as before... There used to always be something to laugh about…” You scoff. All three of your sister wives think about what Makio said. They slowly nod and begin to agree with her. You cover your mouth from laughing “How? Was it only recently he ignored you all? Welcome to the club.”

The three of them looked at you and seemed confused. “You're not joking?” Hina blurts out, seeming genuinely concerned for you. “When does he spend time with me?” The three of them seem speechless. Makio was the first one to speak up, “Well... doesn't he sleep with you? When you get home?” This entire estate is bonkers. Everyone was in shock. Not one person could stop you from enjoying your breakfast, as you were busy chewing your food. Makio gets an idea. “So, when was the last time he slept with you?” You widened your eyes before flipping the question “…when did he sleep with you?” Makio talks with her mouth full “About a week ago.”

Suddenly, everyone in the room realized the truth, and seemed very alert. All four of us look at each other. The tension seemed to grow now that the topic was very sensitive. Makio’s eyes flickered to you before she points at Suma. “…a month or so” Suma points at Hina. “Two days ago.” In a sense, all of the wives looked somewhat jealous when describing the last time Tengen had slept with them. You tried your best not to put on a jealous face, and decided against being honest about the last time, which was quite a few months ago. You spoke up “He tried to sleep with me last night... I rejected him.” Suma gasps. “What!? How could you do that to him?” Makio raised her hand, causing you to flinch “Are you crazy?”

“He was being weird… he didn’t deserve me.” They all fall silent. You’re starting to question your judgement… it seems like he’s trying to get on a sleep schedule with you all. They slowly look at each other, jumping to conclusions as to what was going on. Suma sighs with frustration. Makio yells “Tengen has a favorite?” Suma scoffs in disbelief. “No way. He loves us all equally.” You facepalm, putting your drink down. “Who do you think is the favorite?” You just can’t pinpoint their thought processes. “I think you're the favorite…” You point to Makio. She looks down. The other two wives think about it for a second as well. Makio starts, “It's either you or Suma.” Everyone is somewhat shocked by this new realization. You raise your voice “It can't be me, he's always upset with me.” Everyone slowly looked at you. “But you're his only wife that rejects him.” Hina whispered. Suma added “And you smell like Kyojuro every time without you getting yelled at.” You scowl at her. Why is this a hot topic right now? Does he yell at them?

They laugh a little, but it's actually the truth. You pout “Well I work for Kyojuro, of course I'll smell like him. And we can all reject him if we want to.” Everyone pauses for a moment. Their laughter echoes through the house. Hina looks at her hands. “I think Tengen would go crazy if all of us rejected him.” You all laugh in agreement. “We should have an experiment! When he tries a move on one of you, maybe someone can reject him and see his reaction. He wasn't too upset when I did it.” Everyone but Makio hums in agreement. “I'll try to reject him next time.” said Suma, who was cut off by Makio saying she’s in in the middle of the line. Hina whispered “I'll do it the time after that.” All three of your other wives giggle before you speak up “He's going to go even crazier than he already is…” They all cackle, Makio snorting. The thought just makes them more excited to see his reaction. Makio grinned “This'll be fun.”

You couldn’t help but feel weirded out by the fact that they haven’t rejected him, it seems. Tengen really was spoiled, and it shows that he did not make them feel uncomfortable enough to say no to his advances.What makes him try to sleep with them more than you? Do they not have any complaints at all? You were holding this conversation topic for later. The timeline is blurry, and you seemed unable to hide your worried face. The idea of being a favorite just couldn’t pass you by, in all honesty. It kind of excited you “Do you guys really think I’m… because I rejected him?” You hoped they wouldn’t make you clarify. Hina raises one eyebrow. “Of course we do. You're the only one that ever rejected him.” You think about the ‘favorite’ discussion. “How does that make me a favorite? We only ever kiss… at most.” The other three wives look at you for a second. Suma covers her forehead “Well, we don't do much either. He just sleeps with us.”

Makio and Hina nod in agreement. Your jaw drops at the casual statement. Suma continues, “He kisses all of us, but the way he acts towards you is completely different from how he acts towards us. And you're the only one who rejects him. You leave the estate regularly!” This isn't making sense. They all nod. They are dead set on this idea that Tengen likes you slightly more than them. All three wives look at you for a second, then they smile in your direction. “So, what are you gonna do now?” questions Hina. Makio smirks “Are you gonna reject him again?~” The three of them are eager to see another reaction out of him.

You sigh “He has the worst possible, terrible timing. I didn't want to reject him... it was so long since last time…” The three of them seem to be disappointed in your decision. They all want you to reject him the next time he tries something. Suma exclaims “Ah, come on! Reject him! It'll be even funnier if we all reject him!” The other two wives nod in agreement. You felt like admitting your opinion to them “He won't approach me again after last night, at least until he goes through the rest of you.” You talk over their giggling as you point at each of them as you count up “He'll go 1, 2, 3, 4.” landing on yourself. They all look around at each other. Makio puts her head on her knees “Oh, right. He does seem to go in that particular order, based on intimacy.” They all nod in agreement. Each one of them plans to reject him the next time he comes around. They're all on the same page- they will get their husband back to paying attention to all four of them, and to stop picking a favorite.

You can’t help but also admit what Tengen wants from you… since it’s bothering you that you had no say. “Guys... I have something to say now that we're being honest.” They all look at you with curious faces. They all tilt their heads to the side in anticipation of what you have to say. “Tengen doesn't seem to trust me in Kyojuro's estate, so he wants me to write everything that happens over there in a journal.” Everyone stays silent for a second, intrigued. They all look at each other, completely in shock. Makio speaks loudly “T-Tengen doesn't trust you?” You look particularly guilty. Everyone still looks at you with shocked facial expressions. They want to know the reason why Tengen doesn't trust you. Hina perks up “Wait, I'm confused. Why doesn't he trust you?” You furrow your brows “I don't know. He knows Kyojuro would never... he would never be in an affair with me.”

You’re overthinking… Did you phrase that correctly? Should you have told the girls at all? Do they know more than they’re telling you? Makio’s voice is quiet for the first time “… Did you do something to make him think you're having an affair with Kyojuro?” The three of your wives are intrigued and they want to know the truth. You blurt “No!” You furrow my brows further. “Kyojuro and I haven't done anything romantic...” Saying that sentence out loud makes you feel lightheaded. Everybody seems a little skeptical of what you said. Suma pats her own head “You sure Kyojuro never flirted with you or did anything inappropriate towards you?” Hina adds “Never? Not once?” They all look at you in disbelief. “No... what would you classify as flirting?” Everyone is silent for a moment. They all wonder what to say. Makio stares into your eyes “He didn't try making any passes at you? Any flirty remarks? Any touching?” It’s just been hugs… your brain is on overdrive. They're being a little pushy about it. Makio wouldn’t stop babbling “Like putting his arm around you or anything like that?” They all are still waiting for you to answer. They all seem so desperate for you to say something. You look down “It has never been anything romantic.”

“So, he's never said anything inappropriate to you?” Makio pinches your cheek and you slap her hand. She asks this in a suspicious tone. “Never. He's a gentleman.” They stay silent and seem skeptical that Kyojuro never made any inappropriate comments or actions towards you. Hina eggs her on “Are you absolutely certain there was never anything inappropriate?” These women are crazy. Not even in your daydreams does he do romantic things. You feel terribly guilty for your imaginations. She asks this with a somewhat teasing tone. You recoil “Don't say it like that!” You all giggle. “You sound a little defensive.” Suma whispers. They all look at you with amused or suspicious facial expressions. You raise your voice “Stop the interrogation!” You sigh “Kyojuro is not flirtatious at all!” They stay silent for a few seconds, as per usual. Then the three of them begin laughing hysterically. Hina wipes her eyes “It's just... a little unbelievable. If that's true, then... why doesn't Tengen trust you?”

You decide to change the subject, as you really want them to clarify their feelings on the journal. “You guys think the journal idea is… normal?” Two of them nod. Hina hands you a napkin “I think that there could’ve been a worse request-” Suma cuts her off “What color is the journal?” Makio scowls. “I think it’s insane… but I would do it if I were you… It would make me feel weird knowing he doesn’t trust me. I’d prove him wrong…” She was right. You wanted to confirm the current plans and stop the heat from reaching you.

“As long as you all ignore his advances for our ‘experiment’, I think I’ll let everyone read my journals! You can even decorate with me!” You were all laughing as Tengen comes inside the estate. You start to ask a question as the laughing dies down “Does he really yell at you gu-” His footsteps are heard. The room goes quiet, you keeping your mouth shut, and everyone covering their mouths. He looks at the four of you, looking quite confused as to what's going on. “What are you guys so excited about without me?” Everyone looks at Tengen with blank expressions.

kaylinababy please do not copy | ty for the ♡ & reblogs!

taglist @gingerspicelattemix @misty-angerose @tati-the-fangirl @stuckinthewrongworld @versalia @annie-napier @bitches4lifebro @movie-enthusiast22 @wolywolymoley @mar-hee06 @archer-fb @cotton-candycloudz @its-missa @star-dust-wanderer @king-shimura @vr00m-vr00m @d4rno @whatelsecouldgowrong

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ravenrune · 1 year

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A little Luis x F!reader thing I've been working on for the past few days. I enjoy writing the reader meeting a character for the first time, so here is one for Luis. I went for she/her pronouns this time. I'm sorry I didn't go for gender-neutral. I will again next time! <3

No warnings. Fanfic. Not beta-read. Around 900 words.

The first step

Under any other circumstances, Luis loved to attend parties. The wedding he was at right now, however, had killed his joy very early on. Luis barely knew the couple and didn’t understand why they’d invited him. Politeness, he figured. He used to work with the man, and they had kept in touch after he’d left Umbrella, but to call them friends would be a massive overstatement. Vague acquaintances seemed much more fitting.

Except for this time, anyway.

Initially, Luis had looked forward to the wedding. Not because he cared much about the wedding couple, but because he always wanted to meet new people. This wedding, however, was boring with a capital B. It seemed as if everyone present was in a relationship and didn’t feel like interacting with strangers.

Luis himself had come alone. He’d tried to get a friend to join him, but nobody had been interested. Luis didn’t have any women in his life that he was romantically involved with, so he hadn’t been able to score a date, either. Didn’t matter much, though, because normally, he was pretty good at keeping himself, and strangers, entertained.

Bored and annoyed, he got up from the table, seemingly invisible to the people around him. He’d go out for a smoke, have another drink, and maybe then it would finally feel appropriate to leave. He didn’t think he’d ever be home before eleven after a party, but he really wasn’t feeling it this time.

“Ai, ai, ai,” he muttered, stepping out into the rain. He was pretty sure the weather forecast had promised clear skies, but apparently they’d been wrong again. “How hard can it be to predict the weather?”

“Surprisingly difficult, actually,” came a female voice from behind him. “Want to stay under my umbrella?”

Luis turned around and saw a woman standing there. Relatively young. Nice dress. It was too dark to see the colour of her eyes or hair. She was holding a big umbrella and gestured to him to come over.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Luis flashed her a big smile and stood next to her. “You mind if I light one up?” He held up his pack of cigarettes.

She shrugged. “Nah, go ahead.”

Luis lit his cigarette and placed the pack and the lighter back in his pocket. “Why are you outside? It’s a bit cold, no?”

“Cold doesn’t bother me much,” she replied. “It’s a bit too… crowded inside.”

Luis glanced at her. She had nice features, but he still couldn’t tell what colour her eyes or her hair were. “Is it too crowded, or is it just too boring?” He asked, only half joking.

She laughed and looked around to ensure nobody was close enough to hear her. “It really is very boring,” she groaned. “I kinda regret coming here. I could’ve stayed home and watched a movie. Would’ve cost me less money, too.”

“Yeah… I don’t even know why I was invited,” Luis muttered. “They don’t seem that interested in their guests.”

“Money, probably. They just want gifts. Isn’t that why people get married in the first place?”

Luis nearly choked on some smoke. “People get married for money? Where’s the romance in that, amiga?”

“Romance is dead,” she stated matter-of-factly, “everything is just a financial transaction nowadays.”

Wow. Luis wasn’t sure about what to say. How could someone think that way? He wondered if perhaps something had happened in her past, that someone had hurt her badly enough to turn her away from romantic interactions.

It was hard to imagine, and the thought made him feel a bit sad. His first instinct was to see this as a challenge. A challenge to try and conquer her heart. Then again, he also knew very well that that could end badly. He may consider himself quite the ladies’ man, but he wasn’t in it to hurt people. He didn’t hop from woman to man to woman just to satisfy his needs and move on. Not anymore, anyway. Not like when he was younger.

Luis had gotten so lost in thought, his cigarette started to burn his finger. “Agh!” He threw the thing on the ground and stomped it out. “That hurt!”

“Not the smartest thing I’ve ever seen,” she joked. “Do you need a plaster?”

Luis smiled. “Nah,” he muttered. “I just gotta pay attention.”

He liked hearing her laugh, he thought to himself. He wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.

“You eh… you got a name, amiga?” He asked.

“Y/N,” she replied.

“Good name. I’m Luis Serra.” He extended his hand, which she shook. “Encantado.”

“Same… I think?” She smirked. “How about we go back inside and get something to drink? I’m sick of the rain.”

Going inside for a drink. That seemed like a very nice first step for Luis. “Yeah, why not. I’ll buy you one.”

“Eh?” She frowned at him. “Drinks are free tonight.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Luis laughed. “Well, I’m sure that after tonight you’ll want nothing more than for me to take you out and buy you one elsewhere!”

“I doubt it,” she muttered while folding her umbrella. “But hey… surprise me, I guess.”

Now that was definitely a challenge, and Luis wasn’t the type to say no to one.

#luis sera #luis serra #luis sera x reader #luis serra x reader #resident evil #ravenrune writes

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genericpuff · 10 months

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The LO TV show isn't happening, and here's why.

Now, before I begin, courtesy to /u/Princess_Space_Goose because they're one of the driving forces behind these observations concerning stuff in the entertainment sector and they were the first ones to make a comprehensive post about it over on reddit shortly after we got into it in the Discord and compiled everything we knew. But I also REALLY wanna talk about this and I'm surprised to see I haven't yet. They've covered reddit, so I'm covering Tumblr LMAO

Disclaimer: Long post ahead. Much of what I say below is speculation but there's a lot of damning evidence to support it. Take it with grains of salt.

Rachel has vague-posted about the show a couple times over the past few years, but very sparingly so, always stating that it's "in the works" without anything to actually show for it. This would have been fine back in 2020 or even 2021 (the pandemic did bring a lot of television/movie development to a crawl) but we're over halfway through 2023 now.

So where's the show? Who's running it? What is it gonna look like? Which streaming service is it going to be hosted on?

We literally do not know any definitive answers to these questions because nothing has been revealed and at this point in the game, that's basically a death sentence. LO has been on a noticeable decline in stats over the past year, while we obviously can't access the backend numbers (and neither can Rachel as far as I know because WT guards them with an iron fist which is a whole other topic for discussion) it's still very clear by the comic's rating slowly but surely dropping and the like count average lowering (obv the like count isn't indicative of view count but if the ratio has remained the same, that means if the like count lowers, the viewership is likely lowering too). There's also been certain behavior from WT over the past year that hints at the comic not doing well, such as its VERY aggressive ad campaigning which often undercuts other series on the platform that are far better than LO and deserve the spotlight, but lose it anyways because WT just wants to keep its golden goose on life support even after its heart has stopped beating.

So the fact that we don't know the answers to these questions still after 4 years is NOT good. We don't know anything and while that was excusable 3 years ago, at this point, it's more indicative of the project being at a standstill or dropped completely, and what we dug up and discussed in the ULO Discord (and what was later posted to reddit) proves it with some very telling information dissected from LinkedIn and other sources.

So far, the only people we know connected to this project are Rachel Smythe (the creator of LO) and Stephanie K Smith (the appointed showrunner). Showrunners are the lifeblood of television series, remember this. Here's a little bit about her:

Lore Olympus still doesn't have a network, this means it has no definitive spot to air, which is not good at this point, because the network is what primarily funds these projects. Think of "Netflix shows" - they're not necessarily made by Netflix, they're made by studios that Netflix funds and as such they're given the Netflix branding because Netflix is their proprietary distribution network and benefactor. So LO has no network or streaming service funding its production. All of her other credited works have affiliated networks/distributors, but LO doesn't.

"But what about Jim Henson Company?" Jim Henson Company bought the rights to LO in 2019 to produce it, that doesn't necessarily mean they were onboard to fund the entire project. Again, these studios need networks to back them, not just for monetary purposes, but with the promise that their project will have a place to go when it's finished, whether it's Netflix, HBO, etc. Think of it like a movie theater - the movie theaters aren't the ones making the movies, but they have deals with the studios to air those movies with the agreement that both sides will be making money.

Jim Henson Company is a production studio, not a network. Not only that, but they're primarily for-hire for puppetry/animatronic projects, they're not the same kind of studio as, say, Laika, or Disney, or Warner Bros. Much of their work is done on the backend, creating animatronics and puppets for kids' productions, monster movies, etc. Currently they're working as the animatronic designers for Five Nights at Freddy's, but that movie isn't a JHC movie, it's a Blumhouse production, which has hired JHC to create animatronics for them.

So, the fact that they were the ones to buy out LO for production rights is... very odd. Because for starters, they don't tend to buy out production rights like major studios, they're typically for hire, but they're also not an animation studio. Any animation projects they've worked on were for concept art and design, such as Word Party, but the folks at JHC primarily specialize in conceptualization and practical effects. That's their whole shtick, it's what they're selling, it's what they get hired for.

That's all early stuff though, stuff we've been speculating on for ages. What came to light recently that spurred on this whole essay was discovering this one section on Stephanie K's LinkedIn:

There are a couple things we can glean from this. First, we know this has to be LO even if it isn't being named, because LO is the only one that was bought by JHC.

This also confirms that LO did end up with a distribution network, specifically HBO Max.

But it also confirms that Stephanie K Smith, the showrunner, is no longer on the project, either due to willingly quitting or being removed. According to the time stamps, she left in April of this year.

This is especially not good because without a showrunner, there's no leader. Showrunners are essential to these projects. So without a showrunner, and without any sort of announcement of a replacement, LO's television show is a ship without a captain, a car without a driver, a Hell's Kitchen without a Gordon Ramsay.

There's mention of an "animated presentation" but as mentioned in that reddit post above, that's not necessarily a pilot, it's more likely it was this. Which can't even really be called "animation", it's just video editing, rigging and tweening, but I digress.

There's a lot more in that reddit thread that dives into some of the details of Stephanie K's stuff, including the HBO Max affiliation and how that potentially connects to the Sydney Sweeney trailer, but ultimately, all of these breadcrumbs add up to one of two things:

LO's television show is in severe development hell which it likely will not come out of for quite some time, especially right now with both the writer's strike and streaming services gutting their animation connections.

LO's show isn't happening at all but with LO's numbers declining and its audience growing more fed up with the series (look no further than the comments on Instagram about LO's recent Eisner win, people are PISSED) Rachel and WT are trying to do as much damage control as possible by dangling a carrot in front of the audience they have left in the hopes that they'll stick around long enough on the promise of a TV show happening to keep siphoning cash and views. After all, there are two things many readers are still sticking around for - the SA plotline, and the TV show, and both of those things are being unnecessarily dragged out in the vaguest way possible with no real resolution in sight.

Neither of these are good, but I think what's even more telling is that, since that post was made on reddit, Rachel has attended SDCC and taken part in a new interview from Girl Wonder Podcast, and when asked about the show, all she had to say was this:

"Um, it’s been really interesting. It’s been educational for me. So, what I—what has been done so far is beautiful. Like, if I could share it, I would. But I can’t. Because it’s very naughty."

IDK if the "naughty" bit is referring to the show or just her revealing info about it, but the fact that NOTHING was shown at SDCC is just. Y'all, I'm sorry, but the show is not happening. If you're gonna show off previews for television ANYWHERE, it's SDCC. It's like the E3 of comics and entertainment media. So the fact that she's STILL VAGUE-POSTING ABOUT IT EVEN AT A MAJOR EVENT WHERE IT'S COMMONPLACE TO REVEAL TRAILERS AND PREVIEWS OF NEW PROJECTS, like... it's just not happening. Jim Henson Company bought the rights to produce LO as a TV show in the summer of 2019. Since then, we haven't seen a SHRED of news, if you google "Lore Olympus TV show" it'll still be the same 2-3 articles from 2019 talking about JHC buying the rights and that's it. If you do further sleuthing, all you'll find is Rachel saying "yeah it's still happening but I can't say anything!" which means fucking nothing at this point. The only 'hope' I have left is that they'll announce it at NYCC which has Rachel in a top billing spot in its advertising, but I'm really not holding my breath at this point.

Animated productions take a while, sure, but LO wasn't the only comic bought for TV production in that late 2010's/early 2020's era. Heartstopper was bought in 2019, and it made it to Netflix by April 2022. And it was live action, a medium SEVERELY affected by the pandemic, unlike animation, which wasn't affected as much because a lot of animation development can be done from home. What did affect the animation sector was streaming services like Netflix gutting their connections to animation studios and putting animated projects on the chopping block... which also doesn't bode well for LO.

It's 2023 now and we still don't even have anything beyond those initial announcement articles and Rachel making empty promises. It's not happening. Don't fall for the "it's coming soon but I can't say anything" nonsense. It's far less genuine now than it was 3 years ago and it has nothing to support those claims that it's actually in development, and ironically far more to support mere speculation that she's lying or doing damage control.

And, if it actually is happening, on a shred of belief in that being a possibility, then it sure as shit isn't being marketed well. Knowing how to build hype in a product is an entire course of knowledge. Marvel is practically the king of building hype, they're why people sit until the very end of the credits now in the hopes of seeing an after-credit scene, even in movies that aren't made by them. LO's numbers are bleeding right now, so to not show anything at even the major events like SDCC is a blatant misfire. Almost like there isn't anything to show in the first place.

You can take all of this evidence as you will. Some of it you may dismiss as "overthinking" or whatever have you. And a lot of it is speculation based on the crumbs we've picked up along the way.

But let me pose you this as a final thought: how can it be a good sign when everything being asked about the show, by fans and critics alike, comes down to "Is the show still happening?"

The best time to reveal proof of the LO television show was 3 years ago. The second best time is now.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #long post #analysis post #essay post

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sigmoon · 1 month

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Wildflowers under the summer rain - Chapter Five: Bittersweet Nightshade

"Healing holy man, once upon a time / hunting high and low to seek revenge / brand new moral code / got made reluctant renegade / evil spirits flowed / he drank the blood like lemonade." (Morcheeba, Blood Like Lemonade)

"And how I tried so hard to hide the pain / what bad temper we're keeping / and so I followed a light into the night / and you kept me waiting in the dark with no place to hide / cause we are more than our disguises." (Weyes Blood, Twin Flame)

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

wc: 4.2k

cw: Dark content! Implied self harm (cuts). Implied sexual abuse. Implied depression and suicidal ideation. Implied murder. Religious themes. Implied manipulation/brainwashing. Vague hints about Fyodor’s past. Subtle flirting. Fyodor’s POV.

Author's note: It's been so long since the last chapter, and rereading the first four chapters made me cringe a lot. My writing has changed, and so have my original plans for this story, and the most recent revelations about Fyodor from the manga have interfered with them a bit… I don't want to make promises I might not keep, but I'm sure I won't take 4+ months again until the next update. That being said, enjoy reading part five!

“Man, there are many ability users out there.”

She knelt on the floor, surrounded by a sea of files she’d taken out of the shelf in the corner of Fyodor’s office, and browsed through them one after another.

Fyodor, who sat a few feet away from her at his desk, and was just as busy, had told her to read through the many files he had assembled about various ability users from all around the world. They included detailed descriptions of their supernatural abilities, and Fyodor hoped that at least one of them might be useful for the next missions he’d planned, and replace one of his current subordinates if necessary.

However, he felt no need to entertain her need for conversation, unbothered by the silence between them, unlike her, who tried to fill it by at any given chance.

Though inevitably, Fyodor had learned over time that she was sharper than he’d initially thought.

But he simply had very little interest in wasting his time with a sinner like her, let alone bond with one. She was a useful tool, but it was best to keep her an arm's length away from himself, emotionally.

“Oh hey, look!”

She held up a thin file, no more than a few pages with a small photo stapled on.

It was a bit blurry, but one could still recognize the face of a boy, presumably in his teenage years, with brown, messy hair. One of his dark eyes was covered by white bandages.

“What about him? His gift is… ’ability neutralization.’ That sounds pretty useful, right? I mean, sure, he’s a little young, but–”

“No, not him,” Fyodor said, clipped. He’d looked over his shoulder and recognized the file, or rather the person in the photo.

“Why not?”

“He already works for another organization. He can’t be trusted.”

“Are you sure?” she asked and skimmed through the file again. “Judging by what it says here, he'd make a pretty good hitman, at least."

“Not him,” Fyodor repeated. “Check the other files; and no members of other organizations.”

“So we’re only looking for people in vulnerable and unstable life situations?”

“Correct.”

“Exclusively employing easily manipulated people and desperate losers...good business model you got there. Religions take a similar approach,” she said, putting the file back. Her tone was provocative and her words were meant to be a jab at Fyodor.

“Shut your mouth and get back to work,” Fyodor said sternly. Who did this girl think she was…

“Sorry, I forgot that being reminded of what a terrible person you are is a sensitive topic…” she said and met Fyodor’s cold gaze with a contemptful glare of her own.

“You’ve got quite the nerve calling me a bad person. You’re no better than me,” replied Fyodor.

„Are you serious? I might not be a saint, but you’re a lot worse than I am. Yes, I’ve hurt people, but I didn’t kill any of them, and you’ve built an entire organization that does nothing but spill blood because their leader is some delusional fanatic who believes it’s for the greater good.“

Much as she was pushing her luck with him, and despite his anger, Fyodor grinned mockingly as she spat insults at him.

„You clearly do not understand my lifework one bit, but that was to be expected of someone like you. Impulsively going on a purging spree because someone took your dignity, only to get locked up and not change a single thing, not even for yourself. Pathetic,“ he hissed right back.

„Did it feel good, at least? Because I can assure you that your adorable little plan to rid the world of evil was entirely self-indulgent and did not help anyone in need, not even yourself. Why else would you see so little meaning in your life if not because getting revenge did not free you of the shackles that person apparently still has you in? You’re still as miserable as you were before, aren’t you?“

“You don’t know anything about me, you sick fuck!” she growled and trembled with fury. The way she eyed Fyodor betrayed her apparent desire to pounce him and tear him apart.

“I don’t have to; that deranged look on your face speaks volumes," Fyodor said coldly, but as soon as the words had gone past his lips, he realized that he’d gone too far. Her face was no longer twisted in outrage but in genuine hurt and humiliation.

Her efforts to hide it were unsuccessful– Fyodor saw her lower lip quivering, like that of a child about to burst into tears.

He wondered how she'd managed to agitate him like that once again. Insults were not usually his style, and neither was lashing out at people.

He cleared his throat and calmly, he added: "What I know for sure is that vengeance is never worth it. Not the effort, nor the blood that's being spilled...and especially not the remorse that comes after, either."

"It’s better than doing nothing about the things others have done to you," she whispered.

“And it’s ironic how you’re judging me for how strongly my past affects me when your entire life’s purpose depends on the words that someone else has put inside your head.”

“I never expected you to share my beliefs, or to understand them.”

“I wasn’t talking about your god, and I think you know it,” she said with the same penetrating expression that had made Fyodor so uneasy since the day they’d met.

“Sucks to hear it, huh?” She said, amused by the aghast look on Fyodor’s face. “You’re just as controlled by your past as I am, but I’m trying to escape that grip, while you succumb to it. You’re someone’s little puppet, and yet you believe that you’re acting on your own accord."

Fyodor swallowed hard and tried to make sense of his racing thoughts.

There was no way she could know...Fyodor had never spoken about his past in her presence. Not like he did around anyone else, ever. And how on earth could she possibly know about him?

No, she only enjoyed taunting him by making provocative assumptions. She was only playing a mind game, in hopes to rile him up.

Or was it her ability’s doing? Fyodor’s information about her ability was vague, but he knew that she could make people suffer a great deal by using it, so it wasn’t far-fetched that she was trying to do this to him as well.

After all, she was vicious, unstable, and, despite their teamwork, a dangerous individual.

“You’re being ridiculous…I’m ending this conversation now,” Fyodor murmured and turned away in his office chair, shaken up, and attempting to keep his composure.

His underling seemed just as fed up with their argument as he was. She pulled out another file from the shelf and browsed through it.

“What about him?” she sniffed. Her voice was shaky, her eyes glistening with tears that threatened to fall. “He can create portals.”

The file she was showing Fyodor now was significantly thicker than the previous one. Fyodor recognized it immediately; he’d been working on it for a fair amount of time now, as the ability user it was about had already piqued his interest a while ago.

He hadn’t been quite sure how to utilize him so far, but Fyodor was convinced that when the time was right, he would make for a valuable accomplice.

“We’ll keep an eye on him.”

━━━━━

Fyodor let his head fall back against the headrest of his office chair.

It was late, he’d been ignoring his body’s cries for rest for hours and was now nearing his mental and physical limits.

Working himself to the bone wasn’t rare, and though the price he paid was high, Fyodor deemed it necessary, willing to do everything in his might to get the job done.

His head was pounding, and he closed his eyes with a sigh of resignation, thinking about today’s incident.

His underling was not an easy person to have a conversation with, and maybe, under different circumstances, Fyodor would have appreciated someone to talk to who wasn’t as dull as the rest of the people he was surrounded by.

However, while he appreciated her desire for autonomy - a trait that his other subordinates lacked - broadening his horizon by constantly questioning his every sentence wasn’t what he’d hired her for.

She didn’t seem to have a shred of respect for him or what he stood for, and Fyodor was fed up with defending what was holy to him against a lowly sinner like her.

He stared at the ceiling above him and gnawed on his thumb as he reveled in his thoughts. While she wasn’t as degenerate as others he considered a pest in this world, her mind and hands were tainted with sin. And just like everyone else, she refused to see it.

She was not at fault for what had been done to her, Fyodor knew that, but he firmly believed that she was to blame for how she’d dealt with it.

Fyodor could even see why she’d decided to walk down the path of bloodthirsty revenge, an understandable desire, after being violated by another person, but still, it was not her rightful place to deliver punishment on those who deserve it, but his.

And always that damned expression on her face. Fyodor was unfazed by all kinds of horrors, having seen and done a lot, but the way her stare pierced through him as if she could see his soul creeped him out.

She knew things that she couldn’t possibly know, because Fyodor had never spoken about them with anyone, ever. But he had a feeling that she still knew, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Other than that, he had yet to figure out what exactly her ability enabled her to do. She hadn’t told him anything, and Fyodor wasn’t as almighty as people thought he was. Skilled at seeing through people by analyzing their speech and behavior, yes, or getting someone to reveal information about themselves without even realizing they’d been interrogated, but even Fyodor’s intelligence had its limits.

He assumed that her ability went beyond enabling her to inflict severe white torture upon people, which was the only proven knowledge he had about it. It would have been naive to believe that there wasn’t more to it than that.

Sometimes, when Fyodor felt his patience run out, he stooped to taking his irritation out on her by voicing how little value she had to him as a person and pointing out his superiority over her.

He wasn’t proud of participating in this infantile tug-on war between them, and it upset him that she had the power over him to get such petty reactions out of him.

Their discussions, no, her entire being only proved Fyodor’s point; most people failed to comprehend his mission– that they had to be saved from the misery that they were either put through by someone else or managed to maneuver themselves into.

Both were the case for her and - while it was uncomfortable to admit - it was for Fyodor, too.

In this world, nobody was free of sin forever. No matter how hard one tried, it would get to them at some point, and someone needed to put an end to this vicious cycle. Even if it required sacrifices.

Fyodor was more than willing to die on a cross and take those who stood in his way with him if it was for the sake of a better world.

A metallic taste spread on his tongue, and he retracted his hand to inspect it. A drop of blood oozed from his bitten nail bed, and Fyodor watched it trickle down the length of his thumb before bringing it back to his lips and licking it clean.

The sound of distant footsteps, slowly approaching, followed by the creaking of his door, pulled Fyodor out of his thoughts.

He knew that this late visitor could only be her, but her presence was not reason enough for him to drop everything and turn around.

„Aren’t you a bit too old to be suckling on your thumb?“

Fyodor didn’t reply to the voice coming from a few feet behind him. Even if he had felt like entertaining another argument, he would’ve been far too exhausted for that.

He felt miserable; his eyeballs were dry and stung, and his head still ached; telltale signs that he ought to abandon his screens and make up for the lack of sleep these days. Fyodor knew that he wasn’t doing his already strained body any favor, but there was work to do, too important to be postponed.

„No witty comeback?“ she asked when Fyodor stayed silent. „I’m just saying that you’ve got quite a bad habit with your nail biting.“

„That makes two of us,“ Fyodor said, looking at her over his shoulder, and he briefly nodded at her forearms.

Usually covered by her daytime attire, they were now exposed, the sleeves of her t-shirt barely reaching her elbows. The tender skin revealed was uneven, with multiple streaks of scar tissue betraying that she was no stranger to unhealthy coping, either.

Fyodor could tell that the cuts were not inflicted recently, but rather several months, if not years ago, as they looked mostly healed, as far as injuries like such could.

Still, he murmured: „You might want to give me that gun back I gave you some time ago.“

„Are you worried about me?“ she smirked, her tone surprisingly sober, considering the topic that hung in the air.

„No, but I don’t want to be the one scrubbing your brain off of the floor one day.“

„I‘m sure you wouldn’t have to,“ she replied and approached his desk. She took a seat on a chair next to Fyodor’s. „You’ve got plenty of lackeys who’d do anything for you, even that.“

„Still, I have no interest in losing my most valuable subordinate.“

“So you do care about me.” she grinned, but Fyodor wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of believing he liked her, which he didn’t. If he did, and he’d told her, she’d only be going to exploit it.

„I do not,“ Fyodor repeated. „But the others lack the competence that you have.“

„Is that a compliment? Are you promoting me?“

“It’s a matter of fact, not flattery. But I might think about assigning you with other tasks,“ Fyodor said, tilting his head and resting it in his palm. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. „If I don’t keep you busy, you will just keep pestering me.”

„That’s great,“ she smiled back. „But if you make me babysit Ivan and Pushkin, I will use my gun.“

„To kill them or yourself?“

„All three of us, in that order,“ she said, and Fyodor finally chuckled, though he blamed the slip-up on his tiredness.

He was certain that his exhaustion was to blame for this conversation even happening, as he rarely had any interest in speaking with her, or so he thought, as he’d never given her a proper chance to prove herself worthy of sharing his few moments of spare time.

Neither of them said anything for a minute or two, the dim light coming from Fyodor’s computer screens painting the room, as well as their faces, in a soft purple, enhancing both of their weary expressions, and Fyodor could see that just like him, she had dark shadows beneath her eyes as she looked past him.

“Why are you awake at this hour?” Fyodor was the first to break the silence.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said firmly, no trace of the lightness from just a moment ago left.

“I asked first,” Fyodor replied, but he didn’t expect her to open up. She’d never been eager to do so, and he doubted she would be now.

She scowled at him but sighed, and leaned back into her seat. “I had a bad dream.”

“About…?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, cutting him off.

Fyodor was on thin ice. He had to be careful, otherwise, this opportunity of taking advantage of her vulnerable state would pass, without having gotten any new information about her.

Fyodor was aware of this risk, and yet he asked: „Has hurting others made your suffering more bearable?“

She didn’t respond at first, and Fyodor already feared he’d lost his chance. But after pausing for a moment, she said: „Momentarily, yes. But the satisfaction, the relief– it didn’t last. What did last, was this rotten stuff inside of me. I’ve hoped that if I just kept doing it…then it might finally go away.“

„But it didn’t,” Fyodor said confidently, though he could only guess what she meant by the ‘rotten stuff’.

„No. The damage done stuck around, I guess.”

“I see. You never told me what your ability does, by the way.”

“Don’t you know?" she asked. “You’ve seen me use it.”

“But that is not all it does, am I right?” Fyodor insisted. As talkative as she was on occasion, she wasn’t easy to read.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you know things you can’t possibly know,” said Fyodor.

“So I was right?”

“About what?”

“About you being someone’s puppet. Your actions are influenced, your entire plan is.”

Fyodor felt disrespected, even more than whenever she dragged his lifework through dirt, the very thing he’d gone through hell and back for.

What fueled the humiliation was that she wasn’t entirely wrong, but Fyodor didn’t want her to have the upper hand in this. However, the time spent trying to come up with a response only confirmed her accusation.

“I was only taking a guess, actually, I’m not a mindreader. But thanks for confirming my theory. I had a feeling that there’s more to this all than just your faith.”

Fyodor’s expression must've looked hilarious to her, as she giggled. “Don’t look so grim. It doesn’t take an ability to figure out that you have issues.”

There was a deep line between Fyodor’s furrowed brows, and he clenched his jaw.

Was she, perhaps, able to deduce someone’s feelings simply due to a high level of empathy and emotional intelligence, even without the help of a supernatural ability?

“Wanna tell me about it?” She asked, disturbing the silence, as well as Fyodor’s train of thought.

“Absolutely not.”

„Come on,“ she pleaded. „I don’t mean to make fun of you, I promise. I just think it would be helpful for us to understand each other better. I’m sure I wouldn’t despise you as much if I fully understood what all of this is really about.”

„And why do you care?”

Tight-lipped, she fidgeted with her hands as she struggled for words. “Well…Because you’re not boring, as much as I don't like you.“

"Oh?"

“Now, don’t mistake this as flattery, but you're really smart. You could be anything you wanted, and why would you make use of your potential the way you are right now,” she asked, “if not because someone convinced you that this is your sole purpose?”

“You’re both right and wrong,” Fyodor said solemnly. “It was someone else’s words, but the power of many that made me realize what my purpose is.”

“What, becoming a terrorist?”

He scowled. “No. That I must change the world, no matter the price. Sacrifices are inevitable, and no, I am not indifferent about that. I know that the measures I’m taking are drastic at times, but it all happens for a reason.”

“Ugh…” She grimaced and pretended to retch.

“I don’t care if you understand my reasoning here, but I know that those who end up being sacrificed for my plan will be rewarded when my work is done. Because then, all the lost souls will be granted salvation. God has mercy on those who deserve it, and I am creating a world with no room for those who don’t, which is why I assumed that you would gladly assist me when I had you brought here,” Fyodor said. "After all, what you did was similar to my plan. Bungling, lacking skill and precision, but of the same essence. That’s the whole reason I wanted you as my right hand.”

“First of all, rude, and secondly, I lost interest in cooperating with you when you started preaching about god and salivating as you did so.”

“Cut the blasphemy if you want this conversation to continue,” Fyodor hissed.

“Fine, fine. But a world devoid of evil and ability users? That goal is quite hypocritical, considering that you are an ability user yourself.”

“Abilities are part of the problem, which is the sin, infiltrating and corrupting people. They do more harm than good. I seek to free the world of this burden. Mankind is foolish and people need to be saved from themselves. Even you must agree, no?”

“Yes, though I wouldn’t have assigned you, of all people, with that task. You’re a menace.”

“Well, some people have thought differently in the past.”

“In other words, you’ve been manipulated. A person of your intellect would never come up with this crap all by themselves and let it dictate their life.”

“Call it what you want– I have lived a long life, long enough to know that I am the one destined to fulfill God's plan.”

“You can’t be that old,” she said, tilting her head and inspecting Fyodor’s face.

“Clearly, you don’t know as much as you think you do. Not about the world, and certainly not about me,” he said.

“Then enlighten me. Tell me about yourself.”

All of Fyodor’s resistance was futile. He felt weak and disgustingly vulnerable. The way she spoke, the way she looked at him; it all made him want to open up his heart, and spill everything he’d safely locked inside it over the years, just to get more of this new feeling– the sweet relief that he’d felt when she first made it clear that she wasn’t so easily fooled by his facade. The relief of having some weight lifted off of his shoulders.

“I feel with every person who's died at my hands, directly and indirectly. And I wish there was another way to change the world than wiping out the sinful parts of the population like they’re parasites and doing so at the cost of innocents. But I’ve been assigned this task, by God himself, and I must complete it, so no one else has to taint themself like I do. This means everything to me…all the lost souls, even the evil ones, will be forgiven for their sins and granted a second chance, but I…I’ve got blood on my hands that I cannot wash off, and I know that I won’t be granted a place in the new world I intend to create."

“That’s really fucking sad,” she said once Fyodor had finished.

“Hm.” He shrugged. “Anyway, there is a specific tool that will enable me to achieve all of this, a very powerful one. And I need to get it, at all costs.”

“What kind of tool?”

“A book. A novel, to be precise, with all blank pages, and whatever is written inside becomes reality. Getting my hands on it is difficult, and requires resorting to drastic measures, but once it’s in my possession, nobody will have to suffer anymore.”

“I understand,” she replied. “And do you think you’ll be able to find peace if your plan works out?”

“What? I’m not the one with issues, and I don't need your pity!” Fyodor said with a dark glare. He was angry, especially at himself, for blabbering with no restraint.

“Sure you don’t,” she said mockingly. “You might be fooling yourself, but not me. Look, I have no idea who made you carry the weight of the whole world all by yourself, but I can’t sit here, watching you approach this problem the way that you are. Surely, there must be a way to get that book with less mass destruction along the way.”

“Don't you think I'm already trying to avoid unnecessary suffering?”

“Yeah, no, I don’t believe you are. We might have a similar goal, but our approaches are worlds apart. And to be honest, I have little respect and understanding for your strategy.”

Fyodor rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’ve told me already. I lost count of how often.”

She smiled. “And you will hear it again. Just please, let me do more than interrogation, let me actually partake in this plan. I don’t care about hurting evil people if it’s necessary, but unlike you, I don’t believe in the afterlife, so I don’t want innocents to die because of us.” She then held out her hand, waiting for Fyodor to shake it. “Deal?”

“Fine, I can live with that. Yes, we have a deal,” Fyodor said, after a last moment of hesitation, and shook her hand; smaller, softer, but just as cold as his, causing chills to run down his spine. His gaze flicked down to look at the streaks on her forearms, and then up to her face, where a pair of eyes stared back at him, with an indefinable expression.

Fyodor had yet to realize that he knew far less about this sinner, as well as about himself, than he’d initially thought, and about how deeply her fate was to affect his own.

This handshake, their first touch, was only the beginning of a series of events that was going to turn Fyodor’s world upside down.

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