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quizzicalwriter · 7 months

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dally winston x virgin!reader who asks her boyfriend dally to be her first time

Sweet Thing

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Kissing, touching, fingering. Inexperienced and slightly innocent reader. Loss of virginity.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.8k (I got carried away.)

You’d always been Dallas’s favorite preoccupation, distracting him from everything else in life. The sweet thing he carted around whenever he hung around with the boys or found himself in the drunken den that was Buck’s on a Saturday night. You’d be there, propped on his lap with his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

Not that you didn’t have anything to say besides sitting there, hell, the guys loved you. You could hold your own when it came to their wit and it made you a worthy companion for Dallas in their eyes, not to mention your inexplicable ability to put up with his shit when nobody else had before - or seemingly nobody else had been given the chance.

Normally Dallas would’ve gone for girls at the drive-in, greaser girls, or any woman he could get his hands on or who could handle his banter for longer than a minute without giving him the back of their hand. You weren’t one of them, and frankly, that terrified Dallas. There was a part of him that wanted to pull away, push you away in hopes that he’d save himself the pain of heartbreak later on he’d convinced himself he’d suffer. But he always stopped himself whenever you found yourself in his arms, gazing up at him with your doe-like eyes.

It was a difficult thing, Dallas being intimate. He was born and raised in a constant battle for survival, not showing love or producing it, but you made it easy. The longer you two had been together the longer he found himself wanting to keep you close, protect you from dangers he seemed to see everywhere. The worries you once had about him leaving eventually faded, the look in his eyes as he gazed at you whenever you laid in his arms far outweighed any ill thoughts you’d suffered with.

The only way you could describe it was ardent, laced with a deep desire that you’d never seen before in his brown eyes. A deep desire that would show itself in the bounds of the night after the two of you had disappeared together, culminating in you on his lap in his bed, hips rocking together as he kissed along your throat and down onto your chest. Or with your legs wrapped loosely around his hips, him grinding into you, you whispering sweet moans into his mouth spurring him on to do more, touch you more, please you more.

Dallas never pushed, he was always understanding whenever you pulled away. Of course, he’d have to adjust himself in his jeans, but he’d quickly pull you to his chest and press delicate kisses along your face, murmuring how much you mean to him, something he didn’t dare do in front of others. That side of Dallas was for you, nobody else, so you treasured it whenever he showed it.

On one particular Saturday night in the midst of autumn, you found yourself propped up against Dallas’s side on one of the couches in Buck’s bar, legs bent up at your chest as you fiddled with frayed denim at the end of your pant leg. Dallas was in a debate with a random man, someone he seemed to know well enough to bullshit with, talking about how the two had snagged something good off a rich man’s car not too long ago.

If it hadn’t been for the incessant country music Buck played when it rounded two in the morning you’d likely have fallen asleep against Dallas, but the occasional jump of a new song kept you jerking awake, a tired pout situating itself on your features as you rested your cheek against Dallas’s shoulder.

“Looks like your miss is real tired.” The man stated, taking a long puff from his cigar before gesturing toward you with the end of it, a snicker following his words as he propped himself up against the end of his pool cue. Dallas quirked a brow, looking down at you where you were tucked into his side with a hidden smile.

“Guess she is.” He murmured, not saying anything more beyond that before moving to prop himself up straighter, hand smoothing down your back as he looked down at you. “Tired?”

You weren’t tired, tired. More so bored, the constant scent of smoke and alcohol wasn’t helping the boredom or the budding headache in the back of your skull. But knowing if you said anything other than ‘yes’ at that moment would result in another hour downstairs, you nodded, feigning a yawn as you let your eyes flutter deceptively.

Dallas caught on, but he didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to click his tongue against his teeth as he played along, shrugging as he moved to stand. “I’ll see you later, man.” He stated, causing the older man to shrug himself before dispersing off into the crowd. Dallas turned to you, helping you to your feet before leading you up the stairs.

“Lyin’ is a sin, y’know that right?” He chuckled out, quiet enough for only you to hear as he nudged open his bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, causing you to laugh yourself and avert your gaze from his as you moved into the familiar room.

“Didn’t lie.” You mumbled out, another pout crossing your lips as you kicked off your shoes, making your way to his bed. “Real tired, Dally.”

“Sure, doll.” He snickered from the corner of the room as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, the familiar metallic clang of his belt hitting the wooden floor echoing throughout the room soon after.

He moved beside you then, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flush with his chest. The sound of country music and clattering pool balls still echoed from downstairs, but the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of Dallas’s knee between your legs.

It was an innocent move, both of you slept with your legs intertwined, it felt comfortable given how small his bed was. As he shifted to get more comfortable his knee pressed harder against your clothed cunt, causing your cheeks to flush red as you choked back a whine. Dallas stiffened, breath catching in his throat as he took a moment to gauge your reaction before moving his knee again.

“Dal-“ You whined, hand moving down in between your legs as you buried your face into the pillow you two shared, his scent lingering heavily on the fabric doing nothing to quell the growing ache between your legs.

“What, doll? Feel good?” He whispered, words ghosting across the nape of your neck, causing your back to arch involuntarily as you slowly nodded. His hand smoothed down your front, bumping over the fabric of your shirt and jeans as he slowly moved to cup your sex, ever so gently applying pressure as he rocked himself against you.

You felt yourself soaking your underwear with arousal the longer he rutted against you, his fingers pressing against your cunt through your jeans as he did. A familiar sensation bloomed in your lower stomach, one that left you clenching your thighs around his palm as you tried to quell the growing ache.

“Gotta tell me what you want.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, trailing a litany of open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of your throat, pressure from his fingers increasing against your cunt. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, Dallas, just fuck me.” You whined, embarrassment over the prospect of voicing your needs soon being overweighed by the sheer need you felt for him, your hand moved to grasp at his forearm as you begged. “Please, Dal.”

That seemed to be all he needed as he moved to sit up on his knees, pressing another kiss to your jaw before pulling his shirt up and over his head. You laid there, lips parted as you watched him undress, feeling your blush spread from your cheeks to the top of your chest. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him - so you did. You moved to sit up, folding your legs underneath yourself as you moved to press a kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his jaw, only pulling away when you felt that familiar pull to touch him elsewhere.

You’d seen him without a shirt, but you’d never truly been able to admire him until now. Your hands wavered over his body, fingertips dipping in between the rivets of his toned skin, along healed scars, a faint bruise that still lingered under the left side of his ribcage. Above it all you found yourself fascinated with the way his chest rose with each breath and the small freckles that lined his skin. They reminded you of the ones he’d gotten from his time in the sun that plastered themselves against his cheekbones and upper shoulders.

Dallas let you look, eyes fluttering whenever your hands would drift farther south than before. You could hear him taking in shuddering breaths, chest catching every few minutes as though he were teetering on the edge of self-control. He raised his hands then, looking to you for approval before he lifted your shirt up and over your head, bundling the soft fabric in his hands before letting it fall to the floor.

You reached your hands behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders until your bra collapsed into your lap, exposing your breasts to him. Dallas had seen women before, he’d seen plenty, but none of them had ever had the effect you currently had on him. He felt his throat dry, brown eyes flickering between your chest and your eyes before he moved to gently lay you back against his bed, situating himself over top of you.

“You want this?” His words were hushed as his hand drifted down over your bare stomach, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he kept his gaze locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort or worry. When you responded with a nod and a quiet, “I want this.” He smiled, a soft laugh leaving him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You’d envisioned losing your virginity hundreds of times, a perfect encapsulation of what sex had to be painted in your mind, vivid and blaring. But this was so different, the way Dallas was so gentle, not afraid to laugh if something awkward happened, both of you sharing the pure moment of intimacy with smiles on your face. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for it and that somehow made it all so much better.

As he slid your jeans off your legs he smiled up at you, a soft look on his face as he tossed the denim to the floor, moving back up to place another languid kiss to your lips. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers splaying against your cunt through your underwear, a groan passing his lips when he felt just how wet you’d become.

“Dallas, please-“ You begged, thighs trembling as he continued to tease you through your underwear. He relented, placing a gentle kiss to your jaw before moving to sit back up, slowly sliding your underwear down and off your body before discarding them to the floor as well.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, eyes wandering over your form laid in front of him, hands smoothing up and down your sides as he took it all in. “So fuckin’ beautiful, doll.”

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his jeans off, kicking his boxers off along with them. His length was bigger than you’d anticipated, only having felt the shape of it when you’d ground down against him during your frequent make-out sessions. As if sensing your apprehension he moved back over you, hand moving to cup your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It won’t hurt, alright? We’ll take it slow, real slow.” He whispered, voice soothing as he helped you to wrap your legs around his hips, your heels subtly digging into the flesh of his lower back. He smiled down at you, eyes voicing a silent question if you were alright to which you quickly nodded back, a smile upon your face as well.

He braced himself on his arm, face close to yours as he slid a hand down between you, helping to guide himself inside before sliding his fingers up to slowly circle your clit. A moan left you at the feeling, leaving you clenching around his tip, the feeling causing him to bite back a grunt as he slowly began pushing in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned out, brows screwing together as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of your welcoming cunt, pausing in his movements to give you a chance to grow used to the feeling. “Doin’ so good, baby, so good.”

You’d heard horror stories from your friends, tales of how their first time had been painful and rushed, but this felt the complete opposite. While it took you a moment to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you, it was an incredibly welcome feeling. You could feel yourself clenching down around him, his fingers circling your clit only adding to the feeling building in your stomach.

“Dal- Dal, move.” You whispered out, voice hoarse as you grasped at his shoulders, desperate for him to move. He snickered at your pleading tone, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in, slowly and deeply fucking you as he whispered words of praise into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses against your damp skin whenever he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him.

You could hear your wetness coating his cock with each thrust of his hips, his fingers slick against your clit. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, broken-off moans, and whispered words. Your thighs tightened against him as he adjusted himself, lifting himself a bit, unknowingly brushing against a spot within you that you’d never known existed - one that pulled a drawn-out moan from your chest.

“Yeah?” He asked through a smirk, hand moving down to cup your hip as he pushed back into you, hitting that very same spot. You could hardly think, let alone breathe as he fucked himself into you, fingers working at your clit as he angled himself to hit that spot over, and over. “Taking me so good, doll.” He grunted out, grip tightening on your hip as he picked up his pace.

Your hand shot down to his wrist as he continued toying with your clit, eyes fluttering shut as you felt your orgasm building to its peak in your lower stomach, the feeling causing you to rock your hips in tandem with his thrusts. The look on your face was enough to make him groan, his hand moving from your hip to your jaw as he tilted your face to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock, baby.” He murmured, voice soft yet authoritative as he slammed into you. As soon as you opened your eyes he moved his hand, pressing it against your lower stomach as he continued fucking himself into you. It felt as though he were pushing you down onto him, that spot that nearly blinded you with pleasure constantly being rutted against by his cock.

All you could muster was a weak, “F-fuck,” as you came undone, back arching off the bed as you whined out his name. He didn’t stop, stifling a groan at the way you writhed beneath him as he felt his orgasm building. Once you started swatting at his fingers that still circled your clit he moved his hand, choosing to grab the other side of your hip, effectively propping you up against him as he fucked you.

The pace was near brutal, moans forced from your body as your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn’t focus, still reeling from your last orgasm as he continued fucking you into oversensitivity-fueled bliss. You could feel his thumbs pressing into your hipbones, short curses slipping past his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He grunted, pulling out of you a second later, spilling his cum across your lower stomach. His chest heaved, cheeks flushed red as he pumped himself through his orgasm. You could only watch in a haze of your own, still catching your breath as he looked up at you, that familiar crooked smile taking over his features as he moved on top of you once more.

“Did so good, doll. Real good.” He murmured against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin between each sentence. “You feel alright? Need me to get you something?” He asked after a moment, a hint of concern evident in his tone that made you smile as you shook your head.

“It felt perfect, Dal. I’m alright.” You whispered back, turning over onto your side to face him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning up after to press a kiss to his waiting lips. “Perfect.”

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, or even if you just skimmed it over - either way I appreciate the interactions! As always you can find my work over on my ao3 under the user “Unscriptural.” Thank you anon for the request! (Sorry for the late posting, or early? Wherever you are? I finished editing it and didn’t want to queue it, so here is your daily scheduled reading material.)

#dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston writing #dallas winston x reader smut #dallas winston drabble #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston smut #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston #dally winston x reader #dally winston #my work #the outsiders writing #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders #request #anon ask #the outsiders dally #the outsiders dallas

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vampirenigh · 8 months

Text

Fun and fame

Summary: You are an idol.

Characters: Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Bachira Meguru.

Warnings: Some curse words, stalkers, harassment.

Masterlist

Sae Itoshi

He would be supportive. You always come to his games when you can so he always comes to your shows if he is in the same country as you.

He would listen to your songs and give you some feedback before they are released.

Your fans and his fans love to see pictures of you both on different dates, in a studio or on a training ground. One time you and Sae tried to cook a speciality from French on your live but you both ended up full of flour and laughing. The fans made many edits of you.

When Sae heard that you had a stalker he got very mad. He is a possessive man and no one has the right to touch what is his. In the end he took care of him with his fans and whit social media making him a laughing stock.

On the rare occasions when someone is hitting on you he will just come to you both and look in his eyes. That works most of the time but when it doesn't he won't care if he is in public or not. He will curse him out till he leaves.

"Do you think you lukewarm shit are good enough for her? Fuck off before I will do something that will make you regret that you were even born asshole."

Rin Itoshi

He doesn't care. Not in a bad way. He won't care if you are an idol, a model or nothing at all. He loves you and that's it. But that doesn't stop him from coming at your shows when he can.

He likes to listen to your songs when he trains. They are nice and it helps him to not hear his teammates.

When he heard that you had a stalker he confronted him directly. He didn't care who he was. He was ready to throw some punches at his stupid face. After that no one stalked you anymore. They were scared of your boyfriend.

And if he sees that you are being harassed he just takes your hand and drags you away from that man. If the man still complains he turns and sends him a glare that makes him shit his pants.

"If any more man harrass you just leave. They are not worthy of your time. They are so lukewarm."

Bachira Meguru

He is your biggest supporter. He comes to all of your shows and gives you a small present after every show.

He likes to praise you a lot and likes to show you off to everyone. Especially Isagi. I think Isagi knows all about you because of Bachira.

He likes to listen your music at training, when he cooks, when he buys things. He listens to it on every waking minute. He knows all your songs by now.

When he heard that you have a stalker he was worried. Like are you okay? Why didn't you tell him faster? He would tell his team and tell everyone to help him. In the end he helped you.

When you are harrased he just wants in the conversation and makes the oder man uncomfortable.

"Oh, who is he? Your friend? Isn't Y/n amazing? She has such a perfect voice. Doesn't she?"

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earenwen-leafwhisper · 7 months

Text

Not wanted (part 1)

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Chubby fem reader

Summer : "The silver hair of the prince was blown by the slight breeze, his purplish gaze burned with an anger worthy of his dragon. Y/n although set back could observe the scene unfolding in front of her eyes. Daemon was in front of her father, Dark sister in hand."

Author’s note: hello, I post the first part of "Not wanted" now, so you don’t wait as much. Part two will probably be published during the week or else it will be two publications on Sunday. I hope you enjoy this first part. Enjoy your reading.

Trigger warning: mistakes have undoubtedly had to pass my vigilance, English not being my mother tongue they will be corrected.

Ao3 profile : Earenwen_Leafwhisper

---

There is a feeling, or will it be instinct, which tells you quietly that you are not wanted in a place, it can happen everywhere, whether in school, in the street, at work, but also in the family.

This feeling grows over time and it is not pleasant, the worst being the evening when the truth comes out. When your father is drunk with all the alcohol he has drunk since the beginning of the afternoon explains to you that you will never be born, that your life you owe to your mother who wanted more than anything in the world a child. That explains, a lot of things, like never having a "congratulations" when you achieve something, or a "I’m proud of you, I love you my daughter". No. Never, just "Did you see how fat you are?" "Stop reading", "Why don’t you read?" , being cut off at every moment, "Shut up!" followed by "Why don’t you answer me?". Little by little, all your self-esteem eventually crumbles, by a member of your closest family. There is also this question, "What would I do alone?" The moments when you imagine running away.

Being born on Westeros is not a dream life, whether we are peasants or nobles, we have our own personal hell. Yours is your father. Although not wanted, your father decided to do something with you, and marrying a second-rate lord was a good solution. His son, born of a first union, was already married to a lady from your region, strengthening the ties of the two families.

His son, he saw it differently, for him he had nothing to reproach himself. But to all the others, he was a frightful asshole, who amused himself by threatening servants and lords of smaller house than yours. Manipulating everyone around you, going so far as to threaten you, morally and physically, explaining clearly, that the day your father died, he would put you at the door of your castle. But you were just a ball and chain. Your father did not want to marry you, at the very beginning, prefer that no one speaks of you or shows interest, waiting for the coming years, he ends up wanting to see you leave with a lord, he could not see you when he was drunk, insulting you with various sentences, more or less painful, explaining that nobody would want you, the least that nothing. Deep down, he was bubbling, refusing to accept that someone was interested in you.

During the various tournaments in which he participated as spectator, he tried to find you a husband in vain, he reproached you, while it was his fault, because no lords had seen you in the flesh. The lords are trying hard to convince him to get you out of the castle, wanting to see who this misterieuse young woman was.

A date was chosen, those of the games organized by Lord Baratheon, for the adoubement of his eldest son.

---

To say that you were surprised would have been an understatement, your father, one morning sober, warned you or rather ordered you to be present at the games organize for the son Baratheon. Your mind worked very quickly, you felt fear mounted within you, your whole body became warm, your heart throbbing, you felt your blood flowing at the level of your temples, your hands became sweatly. With time you had learned not to believe the good news coming from your father because to each of them, hid a dark face, turning against you.

You instinctively understood that something was wrong. He had never wanted you to accompany the "family", you learned to appreciate the fact of not participating in banquets, the only semblance of banquets in which you had participated was in your very young childhood, during which only the houses vassal to yours participated and at the same time make your acquaintance, having seen you as a child at your mother’s side. Whether it was a courtesy visit or in the most difficult moments, you, the child who tried to do well to please his parents, but ended up seeing his father drunk, yelling at the guests who contradicted him on anything, (whether on the land or on the alcohol he ate) and who fell asleep on one of the benches aligned against a wall of the room, a knight winning up to your nurse in order to sleep safely.

As you grew up, you would stay back, observing in the dark the rare events taking place in your castle, seeing from your apartments, your brother’s wedding, do not participate in the festivities. In a sense you were grateful, you did not want to play this open-air play, where false pretenses were common, you could only wish good luck to the servants, knowing more than very well, that their work and reprimands would be much more severe than usual

Now you had to participate, was it a new way to humiliate yourself? To have you away from the castle so that your brother could make it his stronghold and abandon you in a place that you were unknown?

All possible reasons paraded in your mind, not even trying to find optimism in them.

---

The area of your family was quite far from the stromlands, the journey was long and winding, the summer was coming to an end, the roads formed of a mixture of earth and large stones, you avoided the forests anticipate the slightest attack of bandits who could have hidden in the trees and depths of the forest. You were traveling for the first time outside your castle and your father did not want to worry about looting in addition to having you nearby.

There were two carriages, in the first was your father, a mestre and his advisor. You were present in the second, more modest, made only of wood, without ornaments, made of the rest of the wood of an old carriage, a servant was at your side, helping you to sew a new dress, for the dinner in which you and your father would participate, dinner to help you find a husband. «New», was not the right word, you used fabric of old dresses that belonged to you to make your work. The jerky movements of the carriage made it difficult to sew, more than once you had pricked your fingers, fortunately there was no taste of blood spilled.

Your journey was calm, you stayed in the carriage most of the time, leaving only when you had no choice, escorted by your servant and a knight, you avoid your father, who over the days used up the small reserve of wine he took with him when you left. The less alcohol there was and the faster he started to be irritable. The slightest thing that was contrary to his desires was directly criticized, whether it was the singing of birds early in the morning, the wind blowing a little too loudly, or a knight of one’s armor needed to be oiled. Everything was a pretext for his moods, the rare moments when he was sober and asked how you lived the journey, and his drinking crises where he remembered for an eternal time painful moments for all and reproaching you, even if you had nothing in it.

---

After more than a fortnight of travel, you finally arrived on the edge of the ramparts of Storm’s End, gave you the impression of being gloomy, all its shades of dark color, made you think of the tales that your nanny told you before going to sleep. Your servant looked through the opening of the carriage opposite to yours, observing the little distance that separated you from your destination.

"My lady! Look! In the sky!"

Surprised by her sudden change in behavior, you looked, trying to understand why she had reacted in this way.

You squinted slightly, trying to look towards the clouds that were beginning to gather above the stromlands. It was just clouds, nothing new, just big gray clouds with white reflections. Whatever… There you seemed to see a darker point, moving, appearing and disappearing, moving in movements that did not seem to come from the wind. The more you concentrated, the more you had the impression that it was getting bigger and bigger. Your throbbing heart, you didn’t understand what you see.

"Sir Percival, do you see this form moving in the clouds?"

Sir Percival was a knight of of family who was loyal to yours for several generations, long before the conquest of Westeros by Aegon the conqueror. Percival seemed to be close to your father’s age, as far as you could remember, you had always known her. He had always encouraged you when you were a child doing a task that seemed impossible to you, unlike your father who always found subject to criticism.

Sir Percival mounted on his horse’s saddle, lifted his head, you could see from his profile that he was concentrating, you could see fine wrinkles forming in the corner of the eye that you could see.

“It seems Lady Y/n, that it is, a dragon.”

"A dragon?"

“Lady Rhaenys Targaryen is a cousin of the Baratheon House through her mother. It would not surprise me that other Targaryen would have been invited. Although tensions are still high between the two houses, with regard to the iron thrones. "

“Thank you Sir”

"With pleasure Lady Y/n"

When you put your head in the carriage you began to imagine how big the shape could become, what their dragon riders might look like. Lost in your thoughts, you whispered a sweet.

“Dragons…”

---

Tents stood against the ramparts of the city that was facing the castle. The long and heavy linen fabrics covered them, a ballet of color paraded on both sides of the central aisle. Shades of blue, green, yellow and other warm and cold colors contrasted against the walls of an anthracite gray. The tents closest to the doors were intended for the most noble houses and more precisely for their knights, small paths were formed between the tents, taking visitors in the direction of the tents of the vassal houses, whose tents became increasingly modest according to their ranks and riches.

From inside the carriage, you and your servant could smell scents of roasted meats, grilled vegetables and soups. The smells came from the outskirts of the enormous camp, where servants of vassal houses prepared meals on oak tables, suspended above the campfires, stood pots where various soups and stews marinated. Looking from the openings of the carriage, you could see the knights helping from their squires moving armor, swords, masses and shields towards the forges moving from the city to the camp. The noises they heard were a mixture of words, metal clapping, the neighing of horses and clogs clapping on the ground.

The coach stopped slowly arriving at the level of the places defined at the location of the future tents. Your house was not one of the largest houses of Westeros, but had known to keep its independence from the largest houses, bend the knee only in front of the Targaryen house, after several years of fierce war. Some people in your family had kept a deep resentment towards silver hair, prefer to have links with other houses in Westeros, hence their placement. Coming out of the carriage, you looked around, taking the time to remember every moment, knowing that she would risk being married to a person she did not know at the end of the games.

Your house was placed between the Stark and Tully houses. You had never met a person of the two houses, hearing of them only by the few bits of words coming from messenger or by the books about the conquest of Aegon. The people coming out of the main tent of the Stark house were preparing the beds, moving the weapon and armor racks, they too had to arrive shortly before you.

"You do not speak without permission, you do not look a lord or a lady in the eye, keep your head down, and most importantly! Don’t make me ashamed!"

The words of your father came out of your thoughts, since your departure from the castle, he had not spoken to you directly, you understood that he would not speak to you more, and kissed the head you understood that it was the best solution for the moment, no one present knew you except the knights of your house, no one would have stood up for you.

Sir Percival descended from his horse, standing beside you. He put his hand against your shoulder.

"Don’t worry Lady Y/n, I’m here."

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of the years under your father’s yoke continue to pressure you.

"Shall I wait here until the tents are up?"

"No my lady, your father allows you to go around the camp, under the supervision of a knight."

"In that case, will you be prepared to accompany Sir Percival?"

"Of course."

Sir Percival, bowed gently in the direction of the young woman, letting his young squire take the reins of his horse, helmet under his arm, the knight began to walk beside the young woman, understanding more than his lord that the young woman needed it.

---

You felt several glances resting on you, despite everything you tried to keep your head high, constantly repeating to you, that your father did not see you, that he could not have concrete proof on your posture. The lord closest to your father looked at Sir Percival, recognizing the knight who at times accompanied Lord Y/f/n, they all watched the young woman round, recognizing for the most observant, the few features she shared with her father. So she was the young woman?

Murmurs began to roam the tents, first of all the less noble houses, clearly understanding that it was their chance to assert their houses in order to win ranks to theirs. The noblest houses were the most reluctant, the lords knew enough Y/f/n to know that your presence was hiding something. Never had your father talked about you, no hint, nothing. You could be legitimate just like a bastard they knew nothing about. A union between the two families by your blood did not guarantee the loyalty of the Y/h/n family, or even your legitimacy. There was still a positive point, your house, was known to have stood up to the Targaryen, it was powerful, but the disadvantage came from one man. Lord Y/f/n Y/h/n. Your father. Who of his problems with alcohol, became one of the most detestable men of Westeros, be it his words invaded with a hatred towards any man not thinking in the same way as him, refusing the slightest annoyance, and his bad manners, he turned and farted without any shame, whether during dinners, the shawl or in interviews when they took place at night.

Some shameless lords were already beginning to want to bring their sons closer, thinking they understood that your father could be overthrown quickly in case of an alliance, but the knight accompanying you watched over the grain, He threw black glances at people who observed too insistently his protégé. Fortunately all the families present were not insistent, greeting you simply out of politeness, resuming their activities just after.

From your walk in the central aisle, you could see the affinities of noble houses from their positions, the north remained mainly between them, the south with the south and then there were some houses that did not remain according to their geolocations on Westeros, But by their wedding rings, the children came and went from tents to tents, laughing at each other in a game that annoyed adults.

Looking at them you felt a slight pinch in the heart, you had never known a real moment of innocence to play with other children except one or two children of servants who ended up punished. Only your nanny and some knights kept you company, trying to alleviate the boredom of the little girl you were.

But of all the looks on you, you could never have imagined that one of them would have made you miss a heartbeat.

---

From both ends of the long alley stood two very large tents, of red and black color. From the location that the house Y/h/n, moving in the direction of the right stood the largest and most flamboyant in its shades of red, it was almost contiguous to the large door, this one raised flags of a red tricephal dragon on a black background. Many knights and servants moved in and around the tent, but no silver heads were visible.

“The king is very weak, he must have sent fighters on his behalf for the games.”

It was Percival, who saw the curiosity in your eyes, had spoken.

“In this case, who owns the second tent? It also carries the dragon.”

Percival concentrated, trying to understand why the Targaryen could have been divided into two parts. The Velaryons stood between the royal tent and the knights fighting under the banner of the Baratheon. In this case, the crown wanted to show that the union between the houses was maintained, although the princess was not the future queen. Who was in the second tent? To this Percival had no answer.

"I’m afraid I don’t know, lady Y/n. "

“It is nothing, we will probably learn in the coming days.”

You were right, when you returned to the tent of your house, you could see the second Targaryen tent grow. Unlike the royal tent, it was mainly composed of linen from a jet black. Two banners in the colors of the Targaryen were placed on both sides of the opening. There was very little movement around, the tent seemed almost deserted.

Almost.

A snap of armor was heard, you turned around at the same time as Percival and saw several knights walking quickly in your direction, Percival just had time to grab your arm and shoot at him, preventing you from being rushed. Slightly under the surprise, you did not pay much attention to the number of knights, or even to the fact that they did not apologize. The only thing that captivated your attention was a hair color that you had never seen beyond book to screen, silver hair, your eyes very easily found those that belonged to the person with silver hair. The purple eyes were almost hypnotic, you never thought possible that it exists, it took you a few seconds to turn away, not without fighting. In front of you, a man who seemed barely older walked, he was dressed in black with small touches of dark red. If at first the man’s gaze was surprised, it was quickly changed by a smirk. You felt your breath stay in your throat, time seemed to you to last an eternity. Although in reality your exchange of gaze did not last more than two minutes.

Percival with his protective arm around you, looked at the man younger than him, he growled. He understood why a second tent was present. Prince Daemon Targaryen would participate in his games, and this no longer in Percival. The prince since the appointment of Viserys as successor to the throne, was in dispute with the royal family, rumors about his adventures in the bordelles spanked numerous as his disrespect for people he did not see as his equal, refusing the arranged marriage with Lady Rhea Royce. The rogue prince was not someone the fathers wanted their daughters to meet. Percival though merely your protector feared that the prince would fall under his spell, not for the punishment he would have had, but he only wanted to protect you.

---

On the first night, Y/f/n ordered his knights and servants to keep you inside your tent, refusing to let you speak to anyone before he begins the bargain of your future marriage. He didn’t want you to undermine his progress, not noticing your look lost in the void.

Although you could not get out of the tent, the servants kept the entrance open allowing everyone to see what was happening outside, finding agreements with the servants of the nearby noble houses to say nothing to their lords.

You were sitting near the entrance and looking out, seeing that the movements of the day had faded by the time the noblest houses had come to the opening dinner of the games. You kept hoping you could see the silver-haired man again before your father came back, but he didn’t seem to have left his tent.

This is what you believed, because under a cloak with the hood up, the young prince was out, wanting to enjoy the night outside the large camp. He saw you from the corner of his eye, a servant was taking care of your hair (long/short, thin/thick, lise/curly/frizzy, etc.) y/hair/c.

Daemon was intrigued, he had already met your father on very rare occasions, as well as your half-brother. Oh more than once, the desire for murder had risen in his mind, he could still bear the Baratheons, but these two men, were detestable. Daemon wondered who this round young woman was, having never heard of her. Something in her attracted him, but he did not know what it was and he did not like it.

---

The night gave way to the days, the first games started at dawn, the archery tournament was on the outskirts of the city, long lines of targets next to each other butted in front of wooden bleachers. Ropes prevented the peasants from meeting the nobles. Your house was divided in two, the closest to the ground you were sitting with your servant, you had to keep your head low, feeling the heavy look of your father in the back, this one was two rows above you.

Daemon, from his place, standing back from the royal family, held a goblet of wine in his left hand, he tried to keep his gaze in the direction of the archers who were advancing, but was without hope. His gaze turned away at the slightest opportunity in your direction, he could see that since night, your posture had changed. From a straight posture, you had bent the spine letting appear some curves that he had not yet seen and which did not displease him, observing what was behind you, he saw Y/f/n, of which the black look was directed in your direction, while he seemed to speak with the lord next to him. Daemon despised this scene.

“You seem to be more interested in the Y/h/n house than in the tournament, my prince.” a lord who Daemon had forgotten the name, just spoken.

"If you please, my prince, it would seem that Lord Y/h/n wishes to bride his daugther although with her age I doubt that the lords are interested, they prefer them younger."

This lord annoyed Daemon, whether by his words or by his innuendo.

“At the same time, what did he think of his daughter, she only whas the second child, and of a second wife, his son will inherit everything.”

The second child… Daemon knew what it was like to be the second, more than anyone else.

---

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x chubby reader #daemon x chubby reader #daemon targeryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

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just-a-fragment · 10 months

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It's jung heewon's birthday and gosh her character arc still hits hard even after finishing the novel for almost a year now.

She was a "nameless background character" and when she was introduced it's implied she was a victim of one of the most cruel crimes someone can commit to another person(and yet its something that happens to most women).

In this scene, KDJ's commentary states that its a "cliche" or not an unexpected development that happens to "nameless" characters whenever a story has societal collapse. So it's very refreshing that not only did she turn out to be such an important character, but when she gained one of the more powerful attack skills, she was able to enact her vengeance and carry this righteous catharsis throughout the novel. But it doesn't stop there!

The skill actually contains a caveat. She wasn't the one who decided which "evil" is deserving of being killed. She has to constantly answer to a system that has to unanimously "vote" if the skill should be used or not. So while she's extremely powerful, there were times where she wasn't able to defend herself just because the system of good decided that her enemy wasn't worthy of punishment.

Except who are these constellations to decide if someone was worthy or not, especially when, aside from delighting in these spectacles, they weren't the ones affected by such grievances. She has seen how the so-called "good" abandoned her and her companions in vital times, that's why it was so satisfying when she finally gained full autonomy to enact her own judgement. She saw that the system doesn't actually adhere to morality but to an audience, to authorities who never cared for their own well-being in the first place. The best part about this arc is not just how her skill evolved from adhering to a shaky yet rigid parameter to the intrinsic desire to protect the ones you love but how it doesn't abhor the way she handled her trauma! It was never implied that the rage she felt was cruel.

Her story arc is such a kind fate that most authors rarely consider for characters who suffered the same as her. It's established early on that aside from being one of the most powerful characters, she's also funny! she's very caring to the kids, she mentors jihye, she's very loyal to kimcom. She has one of the more consistent moral codes in the novel, she's justice personified. It's what makes her character arc so satisfying, her trauma never retracted any of this, because that's always been who she is.

Her character arc could've just been dissecting her trauma around men, but it's also how it's incredibly hard to maintain your sense of justice/sense of self under an oppressive system. How even the most capable people are held back.

She's not reduced to some brooding/tsundere combat side character, who not only overly relies on the male mc but experiences more trauma to further male mc / other male character developments, which unfortunately happens to characters that have the same fate as her.

Like she's incredibly loyal to dokja but she questions his decisions, she doesn't praise him as a god that goes through with all of his plans just because he saved her, Because she doesn't owe him anything and both of them know this! By the end of the novel she was the one who felt remorse, but her loyalty is still there.

Same thing can be said with Hyunsung who was consistently willing to be a tool for her catharsis, for her righteous anger, and this might be a controversial opinion, but I actually kinda liked that they broke up! In the brief/rare times we get their perspective, yeah we can see that they actually do care/love each other, we can't deny that their love story was born from the apocalypse. It was never confirmed but I wouldn't ignore the possibility that to some constellations, their relationship was a spectacle, people were supporting them, or egging them on(I mean we even see how HSY placed a bet on them)

It's a very refreshing or even realistic take to these kinds of storylines, yes Hyunsung helped her when she was broken, yes he helped her with her trauma, yes they loved each other. But the implication that Heewon, someone who was introduced as a person whose agency was taken from her, being able to decide that her "knight-in-shining armor" isn't her endgame, and being able to acknowledge that it isn't the right time, but the love existed, the love was still there(which is one of orv's main themes). Like that's such a powerful and important message!

I also like how the side stories addresses the argument on whether or not she deserves the backstory she got like!!! SS already proved that she was written with so much care, so much interiority, so much agency, so much love. I wish I could write more(even though this post is already long lol) but I haven't read the side stories.

So yeah HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNG HEEWON WOMAN OF ALL TIME.

#orv #orv spoilers #HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNG HEEWON #orv analysis #jung heewon #jhw #omniscient reader's viewpoint

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thepepsislvt · 3 months

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What if we had another Barto fic because were so starved for his content esp in writing if the reader was like a strawhat that luffy picked up in like skypiea maybe..like a shandorian with the little wings 👀.. just a thought..

I WIN yes i will write more of Barto bc i love him and im glad so many other people love him too!

this one seemed rushed and i apologize i wrote this before my second shift of work :(

Bartolomeo x Winged! Gn Reader

warnings: all fluff, some cursing, mention of doflamingo

you were born on Skypiea and thats all you’ve known

you were always so curious as a child but nobody would tell you what the rest of the world was like

So when you hit your teenage years you decide that one day you're going to leave the floating island

You had wings so you could easily fly away but you couldn't navigate the ocean by yourself

Most nights you would hope and pray that someday, someone would save you.

That's when a certain pirate with a straw hat came and fucked shit up on your island

At the age of 19, you knew this was your getaway, a savior you had spent all of these years praying for

After he won the battle he was fighting you came up to him and his crew as they were about to depart

“Strawhat! You must take me with you! I will prove myself worthy to join your crew-”

“Ok”

“-and I won't take no for an answer! Wait did you say okay? That fast?” you looked at the pirate captain with confusion and shock

All he did was smile and nod

So it was easier than you thought

It didn't take very long to get along with the rest of the crew members

You would give Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy rides through the air

Zoro taught you how to use a sword

Naomi taught you to pickpockets even though you probably won't use that skill

The Entire crew loved you

When Frankly and Brook joined the Straw hats you easily got along with them as well

When you got separated for two years on Sabaody you couldn't have been happier to see them

Your wings had fully grown and you could now use them to their full potential

You guys may have changed a lot physically over the past two years but nothing has changed between your friendship

During the events of Dressrosa, you decided to follow Luffy to the Colosseum to make sure he doesnt give away his identity and draw unwanted attention towards him

While you and Luffy were watching the fight, a certain green haired rooster head had caught your eye

he was hated by the crowd for being vulgar but thats what you liked about him

after his victory in Block B you knew you had to go and greet him

what you were not expecting was him to start crying and saying how much he wasn’t good enough to be in your presence

how can such a scary looking man with the title “Cannibal” fall to his knees over someone like you?

you were flattered by his kind (?) response and had to console him

he asked you to sign your wanted poster he kept

after the defeat of Doflamingo, you hung around Bartolomeo more, falling more and more for him and his wild personality

he had finally accepted that you were actually his friend and took his fanboying down a notch (he still has his moments though)

you had asked him out since you know damn well he wouldnt have the balls to ask you

when you did he just about died on the spot

but y’all had the best time on your date

Sanji and Nami had helped you dress nicely for the event

at the end of the night Barto and you were just star gazing as you told him all about each constellation

Barto knew he had to something he just didnt know how

“you see those six stars up there forming a ‘W’? they call that one the King of Pirates in honor of Gol Roger himself! isnt that cool?” you had explained while pointing to the sky

after you didnt get a response from him you looked over to see if he was alright only to be met with his face close to yours

“Barto? are you alright?” you whispered to him

He just stared into your eyes before kissing your cheek, leaving you flustered and your wings spread out in suprise

“was that okay? should i not have done it?” Bartolomeo started to panic and think of every possible negative outcome before you kissed his lips gently

“more than alright”

he Smiled and started giggling all giddy

“I GOT KISSED BY MY FAVORITE STRAWHAT!!” he yelled out into the sky

you only laughed and kissed him again

#x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #bartolomeo #bartolomeo the cannibal #bartolomeo x reader #one piece x gn reader

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yamatenzo · 1 month

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karin is my meow meow princess who was born in a cardboard box all alone and most people write her off as her character just being "sasuke obsessed" which i actually do understand because its not like kishimoto put much effort in there now did he. but i actually love her because (and this is personal to me) once you start seeing her whole situation with her body being used by everyone and her believing it's what gives her worth as an allegory for abuse it reframes So much of her behavior because imho? the way she acts towards sasuke is So painfully real LOL

like here's the thing about karin and i'm fully gonna subscribe to her tsukuyomi dream episode here because i think it's visceral, rough as hell and good: what she craves the most is Love she doesn't care if she's used up as long as it's by someone she believes is worthy of her love- again, subscribing to her tsukuyomi dream, girl it fucking ends with her asking for love as she's DYING isn't it so fucked up (but extremely interesting character wise) that THAT'S her ideal world? she doesn't even receive the words of love she is asking for, she just makes the request openly and to her that's enough like. THAT'S HEARTBREAKIIIIING

and back to this idea of craving love, i think she's conditioned herself to believing what she wants is that idealized romantic love where someone Needs her (even if she might end up being thrown away or become obsolete- a very insanely sad way to think of yourself) but if you Fully observe karin back from the time she had her mother still to when she meets naruto and says, if memory serves, she feels a Warmth to him that makes her happy, that what she really wants is a place to belong that is like family... i wish they'd given any payoff on the naruto thing but oh well lol. something i'll actually give boruto props for is karin (orochimaru aside) seems very happy and fulfilled to have found a spot with taka as her family as she says 🥺...

anyway tl;dr karin's character, if you ask me, is (or rather Should Have Explicitly Been) about longing for the love of a family that won't need to use you or throw you away no matter what

#snooorkmimi :)#shes soimportant to me 🥺

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usernamesuggestionsarefunny · 2 months

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Possibly unpopular opinion (Or perhaps not idk): I love what they have done with Zuko and Ozai's relationship in the live action Netflix Avatar show.

In the cartoon we never get the ~vibes~ that Zuko has a complicated relationship with his father, only that it is abusive and one-sided in the sense only Zuko craves Ozai's approval, while Ozai straight up hates him, wants him dead or has no problem with him dying (Why doesn't he kill him if he has Azula? We don't know, plot has to happen, he sent Zuko to find the avatar in order to get rid of him, probably, or actually canon idk or remember), clearly prefers Azula to him as successor, etc, etc, etc (+ later the comics literally overkilled this trend "she was born lucky while..." omg stfu). Zuko is basically the perfect character to prove the fire nation is not all evil (Oh look, they hate him too, he is inherently their victim too from the very beginning).

So when Zuko switches sides in the cartoon, what I see as an adult rewatching is someone giving up on luxory, physical safety and... that is pretty much it. Sure it is a big deal to give up on those things to do what is right (Few would) and still awesome that he did the right thing in the end, but if you really think about it, he is not giving up that much, he is not giving up anything truly valuable to him. Respect? Honor? Sure he is said to have received it back after Azula "killed" Aang, but we never truly see it. For all intents and purposes his sister has that and wayyy more of it. His father's love and acceptance? Never had it, so he didn't truly "loose it" when he spoke up for those soldiers, got the scar and was banished, it is not really shown to have suddenly popped into existence when he was said to have killed the avatar. He literally had nothing in the fire nation, literally nothing. This could only make "doing the right thing" a lot easier for him, and for the adult audience (At least for me), his arc is just him realizing what is almost irritatingly obvious for us: That no one in the fire nation truly loves and respects him so might as well switch sides (Basically if we weren't also shown that Zuko is compassionate and does care about the horrible things the fire nation is doing, Ember Island Players would have gotten a bit of truth in it).

Now, in the live action, where do I even start? It has been so good so far when it comes to Ozai and Zuko. That man, if he hated Zuko in a cartoonishly evil way almost from birth, he sure doesn't show it. Don't get me wrong, he is just as abusive (Creepily so in many scenes, made me feel so protective of Zuko and Azula), but he is also shown to "care" about Zuko as in having some hope left that he can mold him into another powerful genocidal mini me. Is Azula winning by far? Ofc, she is still the prodigy, I am sure I am going to see flashbacks of favoritism later on. But Ozai doesn't yet seem to favor her in a way that makes Zuko's craving for his approval (Or even Ozai's hope in him as heir) hopeless. It seems, from his scenes with Azula, that Ozai foments the rivalry and competition between the two siblings not only because he personally thinks Azula is the best (Which he also might in this version), but also as a way of control through fear (Especially for prodigy Azula), and to make them (Especially comparatively weaker Zuko) "better", something this version of Ozai appears to think is possible EVEN when he banishes Zuko. Now, he might have done this "to get rid of him" as in the original, but in the live action he seems super open to and genuinely believe the idea that the exile could make Zuko stronger and better, not to mention worthy of the throne if he succeeds. Ozai treats Zuko like the heir despite favoring Azula is all I am saying. Zuko's actions are therefore almost impossible, yes, but not hopeless or even naive. And if this trend of Ozai's respect and "love" (Super on quotes) being achievable continues, Zuko's eventual turn to the good side will be much more powerful. He will have to give up much more after spending a summer with his abusive parent love bombing him for "killing" the avatar. Zuko's choice will be solely based on his findings about the horrors the fire nation has committed and not wanting to be the cause of more suffering even though he could have it all. Even though it was his fate to be his father's "mini me"-> Something terrifyingly likely and not so quickly discarded by the narrative itself as it was in the animated series.

I think the best part about this subtle change in the father-son dynamic (If it was the intention of the writers, I am aware it could have been unintended) is that the scar tm was a direct result of Zuko's compassion for those soldiers and not just the excuse Ozai used to banish him or "final straw" because he preferred Azula sooo much more, as it is pretty much implied later on in the animated series and comics by focusing so much on how much of a perfect victim Zuko was pretty much from birth. The addition of the 41st surviving because of Zuko was also pretty nice, and so is Zuko's relationship with them, he will need fire nation allies when he gets to the throne and this is a good start, something the animated series never touched upon much.

I am on episode 6 btw so my opinion might change. I will edit this post if that is the case. BUT my thoughts on these first scenes doesn't change, they are good imho

EDIT (And spoilers): I just watched Zhao’s revelation where he tells Zuko that Ozai would never let him return and he just wanted to use him to motivate Azula. It does change things and invalidates most of what I said, but taking out just this one scene, as I said, the Ozai-Zuko dynamic is great in this show, and also, Zhao is obviously not the most reliable source, because he was allied to Azula and obviously wanted to hurt Zuko, as he was losing the fight with him. There is also the fact that Azula wasn't watching Ozai and Zuko when Ozai told his son that he was being banished and that it was in part so he could get stronger etc, that was all for Zuko and had little way of serving as motivation for Azula (Unlike the scenes where Ozai praises Zuko in front of her, those could have totally been him bullshitting his daughter to motivate her to work even harder). So all in all this scene doesn't ruin the overall impression I had of the Ozai-Zuko father-son dynamic in the life action show. In fact, it could be taken to confirm one of my impressions which was that Ozai likes pitying his children against each other to push them harder.

EDIT 2: Ozai's reaction to Zuko's possible death is further proof imo that his “test” was very much real (even if almost impossible) and everything I said earlier still stands. He wouldn't mind that much if he died, it would just prove his “weakness”, and he is very pleased with Azula, but he didn't look happy or even indifferent when he learned the news.

#zuko #ozai #atla #atlab #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender netflix #natla #natla spoilers #netflix avatar

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shorthaltsjester · 8 months

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taliesin and laura remain truly so fantastic at making characters who… don’t necessarily have something extremely and inherently in common but do have experiences that were caused by similar sources and that lead them to have quite different opinions/ideas about things but in ways that are typically very reconcilable? which is a lot of qualifiers but it’s a through line of vex/percy with nobility, jester & cad with loneliness (and also god stuff but in a different post maybe someday i’ll talk about how actually their god stuff is intensely related to their different experiences of loneliness), and now imogen & ashton with being left behind.

like vex was this character who technically had a claim to nobility due to her blood but at the same time was burdened because of that same claim. and percy who was born into and raised by nobility but that nobility ended up making his family the targets of a massacre. and then vex who lets down her walls and Do I Look Like I Come From Money? and percy giving her the title grand mistress of the grey hunt because it has nothing to do with blood, or his love for her, or anything aside from the fact that it’s something she can prove herself worthy of simply by virtue of who she Is, not who someone makes her. and percy and vex’s conversation about forgiveness and it’s necessity for growth as probably two of the characters most inclined to hold grudges.

and caduceus clay who gets left behind with nothing but his Belief while his family goes off into the world. and jester lavorre who gets shut inside with no company except her Belief as her mother protects her from the world. and they both get the burden of loneliness and the understanding of love’s nonmalicious imperfection. and caduceus having a panic attack on a ship and jester telling him that the world is a lot bigger than his cemetery and that means he has to break out of his comfort zone to find his path. and caduceus telling jester that he doesn’t think she gets as much credit as she ought to and she deserves more pastries. and jester thanking caduceus for showing her how cool it is to actually heal people and caduceus asking if she wants to use his shield while he doesn’t need it.

and ashton who was left broken and dying on the ground and was given inescapable pain as their means of survival. and imogen who was left behind by the only person who could provide true understanding of the pain she’d one day come to feel. and ashton who’s a barbarian, who wields their rage casually and unapologetically and who sees the Shittiness of the world but is unrelenting in his version of optimism. and imogen who is weighed down by pessimism she doesn’t Want to have but hasn’t cracked how to undo and who doesn’t admit her anger until it comes up again and again and again and carries it like a burden or like guilt, who we only see really Grasp and feel Confidence about her anger being something good in front of others when she has those conversations with ashton. and like. ashton who looks at imogen and sees a superhero. imogen venturing through ashton’s mind and holding his bleeding and exhausted head and saying i’m sorry. i’m sorry. and imogen who looks at ashton and sees someone special. and fucking “we got him killed.” and “no, we didn’t. don’t you dare. […] we are not what fucking killed that man. […] we are his eventual victory. we are his fucking revenge.” and “i’ll be his revenge.” and “i have no fucking doubt.”

and in general rp wise they both tend to make some of my favourite characters (also typically the ones i find most frustrating) because they both tend to make flaws that are easy to hate and they make those flaws very central to their characters but i think that’s also what makes their character interactions so deeply compelling because so frequently it’s like. yes yes these two characters have like. a helix of things they have in common but also things they deeply disagree on but they’re going to spider-man point at the things that are the same and they’re going to honour their differences while doing so. and it’s just. i always enjoy it so much and i was psyched when i heard about an imogen and ashton side pit stop in last nights episode and i was not let down when i watched the episode today.

#also gotta emphatically say that i Do Not Mean their characters understand each other better than others or completely #i just think those two consistently have characters that have opinions that would perhaps naturally be the most at odds but then #they always craft these dynamics that like. web together pieces of sameness so that their characters end up having deeply #meaningful relationships with one another.#but like. ashton and imogen really do Not get each other in a lot of ways. cad and jester were very opposite in a lot of ways #percy and vex i think probably had the most in common but also like . they had and have vast differences .#idk this probably is worth a longer post that lingers in my brain about how relationships between characters whether romantic or not #are actually Much more compelling and rewarding when characters Don’t just click and have perfect matching experiences #because. to have to Choose to want to understand someone and what they’ve experiences and why they differ from you #if actually a much stronger act of love than searching for your reflection in everyone you meet.#someday i’ll string together that post but. until then. tal and laura my beloveds. storytelling duo truly #cr3 #cr2 #jester lavorre #imogen temult #vex’ahlia #caduceus clay #ashton greymoore #percy de rolo #cr1 #critical role #cr spoilers #no molly and jester input here because i haven’t watched early m9 in a Long time but. i’m sure there’s similar scenes in there.#honestly even like. jesters Earnestness with her still manipulative trickery vs. mollys much more . not necessarily Cruelness but just. idk #there’s something there with the way that when they meet jester is all in for the tarot cards for the experience that they both get out #of her choosing to believe what molly says vs molly going in to get something out of jester? yk.#but they’re still bestie icons. jester still tears a man in half in the hopes of saving molly. molly still died trying to help get her back.#anyway. beloveds #laura bailey #taliesin jaffe

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aziraphales-library · 10 months

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Hello! I love what you do here! Your blog has been my number one guide to find good fanfics!

I wanted to ask if you could help me here. I recently read a fanfic with naga!crowley who was in some tower he couldn’t get out and he wasn’t himself. Azi found him there. It sounded very cool but had quite a bit adult content. I feel rather uncomfortable with sutch thing and wanted to know if there are any other fics with the same idea but no adult content and please no human AU’s. could you help me with that? Already a big thank you for this blog <3

Hi! Your description gives fairytale/fantasy vibes, so I hope these are the kind of fics you were after...

A Demon's Guide to Love and Curses by cyankelpie (G)

(Crowley has been cursed by a witch, cut off from his powers, and trapped in serpent form. Only a True Love’s Kiss can restore him to his former self. There’s just one problem: demons can’t fall in love.)

“So what’s your plan?” Crowley said at last, sounding resigned. “You want me to ssslither into town, find some random human, and see if I can fall in love with them? And get them to fall for me?”

“Goodness, no. That would never work.” Aziraphale crossed the floor and pulled his cloak off the coat stand. “My plan is to take you into town, and then, together, we’ll find someone for you to court.”

The Prince and the Serpent by IneffableDoll (G)

The witch’s expression was downright evil. “You’ve heard of True Love’s Kiss, haven’t you?” Anthony stared at her. If he’d had eyebrows instead of being a snake, they’d have touched his hairline. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” ~ This is a magical rom-com about an idiot besotted snake and an idiot besotted prince very loosely inspired by The Princess and the Frog, what do you want from me?

The prince and the snake by Lost_In_Wonderland12 (G)

The kingdom of gold got a prophecy long ago about the youngest child of the king weilding a flaming sword and the king waited expectantly for this child for years until finally the worthy one was born. His last child, Aziraphale, his knight. Fast forward to years later after the death of the king, his oldest son Gabriel has since taken the throne and has no hopes for his youngest brother. That is until a cursed man, a sorcerer if you will, with snake like eyes starts becoming a slight problem. He messes with the roads, terrorizes children, sets snakes loose in barns, and Gabriel does not like him one bit.

So he asks for an audience with the snakelike man who asks for something unusual in return for staying out of trouble. A companion, and a willing one at that. No one steps forward except for Prince Aziraphale, who is whisked away with the promise that he can visit. What will come of this?

A Familiar Bond by ChubbstheFish (T)

There is a reason witches are warned not to summon demons. The sleepy town of Tadfield was supposed to be peaceful, a town full of witches practicing their craft without worry of outside persecution. At least it was until someone let a demon loose. But local bookshop owner and garden enthusiast Aziraphale doesn't really care about all that nonsense, not when he has just acquired a new friend and companion in the shape of a Familiar. Crowley just wanted to head back home. But that's getting harder to do now that he's gone and gotten attached to a certain witch, which is bad since he does not want the pure-hearted man to be corrupted by his mere presence.

The Rose and the Serpent by Atalan (M)

AU, retelling of “Beauty and the Beast”. Quite honestly, sending Aziraphale off into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle isn’t even the worst thing Gabriel’s ever done to him, and at least it means a change of scene. But then neither the snake nor the castle turn out to be quite what he’s expecting…

Choose Your Princes Wisely by ZehWulf (T)

“There’s an enchanted castle West in the Hellian slopes, and apparently it comes with a prince looking for a bride or bridegroom to free him from a dark fae’s curse.”

“I see,” Aziraphale says finally, when he realizes both Gabriel and Uriel are staring at him expectantly. “You want me to marry a beast?”

Gabriel's mouth flattens. “I want you to take this gods’ blessed opportunity to secure your family’s future for good."

Aziraphale is a professional quest hero who just wants to sit by the fire and read a book, if his overbearing family will ever let him; Crowley is a serpent demon who needs a gullible hero he can con into gathering some critical ingredients for a human corporation spell. Hijinks and a lot of terribly inconvenient feelings ensue.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #fantasy au #alternative universe: fantasy #fairytale #snake crowley #naga crowley #mod d

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tacagen · 10 months

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did you know that negaduck from darkwing duck was based off reverse-flash? yeah, that doesnt even BEGIN to describe what's actually been going on between their character histories..

first, negaduck wasnt just inspired by or a reverse-flash parody. he's a literal copy-paste of silver age thawne with a very few changes of origin place from future to parallel universe and identity from some random future guy to main hero's evil twin, because originally eobard was fixated on being a Criminal and not particularly flash's nemesis. back in the day, thawne constantly mentions how much he loves his criminal life. half of his lines are negaduck-worthy purely because the rest is related to being a speedster scientist. my personal favorite as an example:

he passes the speed limit law in central city so that barry couldnt use superspeed without breaking it but thawne still could because he is 'a hardened criminal'. he invents rays that turn everything inflicted evil (something even negaduck has never done (ig solely because megavolt's already done it in the negaduck episode where he accidentally splits darkwing into good dw (posiduck) and bad dw(negaduck, with a black and gray color scheme), and while yellow negaduck is a different character this is basically how the idea of him was born and the writers just decided to keep him in a different form bc the gray one merged back into normal dw at the end which is super funny. imagine coming up with a duck villain and going 'oh this guy actually reminds me a lot of reverse-flash with all that opposite/negative thing. LET'S PAINT HIM IN THOSE COLORS AND GIVE HIM THE SAME PERSONALITY AND SIMILAR ORIGIN THIS TIME'), altho he DOES test the power gem on a cat in jail bird like thawne did with evil rays). he repeatedly tries to get poor former dr alchemy back to crime just because 'crime fun. why cant you see that. im doing it for your own good' and negaduck tried something like that with morgana in feb 14th episode my valentine ghoul (+that brief scene with gos from 2016 comics run where he believes she must be bad deep down inside out of comparsion to nega!gosalyn). negaduck also travels from a whole other world just to fuck around here for fun (there was this bronze age flash issue called flashback where thawne gets lost in the timestream because barry pushed the wrong buttons in his time capsule which is almost exact negaduck's fate in life, the negaverse and everything) and one of another few differences related is that negaduck is shown to be a dictator of his universe's St. Canard who is bored to live somewhere he already has all the power so he travels to another universe to cause problems on purpose.

second. dc's new52. eobard is rewritten again, now he and zoom are kind of one character. but guess what else is new in this version that never happend neither in zoom or professor zoom's lives? thawne is a fucking dictator in his own time. and people tried to fight his rule in flash's name just like friendly four needed darkwing as inspiration to finally fight back for their world.

he gets his own team, acolytes of zoom (i wish i could call them local fearsome 4 but there are 5 of them, making it more of a sinister 6 if you count thawne) which he trains for centuries to fight the flash and betrays later by trying to steal their powers just like negaduck stole f4's in jail bird to become mega-negaduck and if all that wasnt enough, without the mask he straight up looks like negaduck humanization. look at him. this mf is only missing a hat and a cape.

also these sudden black parts in his new speedster suit design? either it is some absolute fucking bonkers of a coincidence or someone on the flash writing team really went 'hey guys you know what would be real funny? lets base new thawne off negaduck. like he was originally based off thawne. i swear no one will notice' and everyone went with that. (i could also mention he has the same dumb motivation for being evil (having shitty childhood/being deep down sad about mistreatment and loneliness) as 2011 dwd comics run negaduck but imo that's too far of a stretch to actually be included)

third. yall know the deal of the first season of cw's the flash? yeah, what if i told you the whole thawne messes with the particle accelerator and causes barry to gain superspeed thing already fucking happend in darkwing duck, episode going nowhere fast?

(the way i lost my mind over this back in the day when i decided to watch dwd just because negaduck reminded me of thawne(i didnt even know he was a direct rip-off, i just went 'oh wait dt universe has this evil fuck that wears the same color scheme as reverse-flash? girl i AM checking the whole thing out just to see if he's anything like thawne'.) and first watched the episode... priceless, still haunts me to this very day. how the hell was that written in 1991. did cw writers just take the idea from dwd too. honestly i cant be sure about anything anymore).

and remember in the duck knight returns (2011 comics run arc) flashbacks there was a super funny thing with negaduck not knowing dw's secret identity and being so proud he cracked the case? remember cw!og!thawne looking for flash's time period and not knowing his identity in 2nd season cameo episode? what the hell was even up with that!!! like guys. guys one of you is the most devoted flash fan from the future and there is NO way none of that kind of information was left a CENTURY after (i mean come on dude couldntve you just asked gideon. she literally had that 2024 newspaper about vanishing and thats at the very least not mentioning she was created by barry) and another is straight up the same fucking person as the hero with the same fucking relatives and enemies. idk take a wild guess??? ((i really wonder if anybody on the wirting team of 2011 dwd run saw not just life, the negaverse and everything but any episode featuring negaduck at all. not only do they ignore the existence of nega!gos in the 'oh he mean bc alone :(' approach, they ignore the very definition of negaduck's character which is literally evil drake mallard. i mean sure hes dumb and may miss obvious clues because of being the same dw just evil but come on, such a comedic situation and never addressed by drake whos literally been in the negaverse and knows they are the same person or by anyone else he coluldve told that? oh well unless drake is also dumb af and thought there never was any drake mallard in the negaverse in the first place and that negaduck is some other guy. which is a real probability i suppose))

also. negaduck's death by being split on billions of evil particles in crisis on infinite darkwings and thawne, being 'exorcised' from nash's body in a form of a negative speed force stream with sparks in 6x15 of cw's the flash.

fourth! yall did watch ducktales 2017 reboot, right? specifically the duck knight returns episode? they introduce a whole new version of negaduck there! and guess what. jim starling, an old darkwing duck (in-universe 90s tv series) actor obsessed with his role, goes fucking nuts because there is a new darkwing duck actor in a new movie and he didnt even know. because he feels forgotten. because no one remembers neither him nor original series (objectievely not true bc obviously launchpad and drake but to jim they just dont count bc reasons. he seems to count only children but calls lp his fan when anthagonizes drake for taking even that from him in the end). because he was replaced and no one even bothered to tell him. he causes a fire on the set, almost kills drake but does have a change of heart at the end after launchpad's speech about what darkwing duck stands for and seemingly sacrifices himself to save drake and lp from the explosion. then they have the worst idea they could have in relation to jim's character ever: for drake to be a real life darkwing duck to honor jim's sacrifice. so naturally he hears that from the sewers or wherever he was hiding to see their reactions(look i am. 100% sure that this is what happened bc that makes so much more sense than jim getting brain damage or whatever from that explosion and waking up to choose violence again for no other reason). he gets hit with the being replacable and forgotten thing once again and renders back to negaduck tendencies, for all we know for good this time as his darkwing suit changes to the yellow-red one. yk who else went on a rampage because he felt forgotten and replaced? you guessed it! the return of barry allen, a 90s classic where thawne goes to 21st century for the first time, thinks he's barry (original-ish flash) because dissociation from trauma of seeing himself being killed by his hero and acts exactly like starling, having the same issues as motivation aka him/barry being forgotten and replaced by wally. he implies wally taking on the flash mantle is most disrespectful to barry. he rants about how he's the only flash and threatens to destroy not only the flash family but the whole central city for forgetting that. he and wally have a conflict of legacy similar to jim and drake's conflict in dt17. he is The starling blueprint only a lot more mentally ill. also we've heard something like the duck knight returns in running scared (this one is less reminiscent of jim but still features some things that werent in the return of barry allen). it's a rebirth arc that introduces another new origin of reverse-flash. now, he's been hyperfixated on barry allen his whole life (on a whole new level i mean) and there was the first meeting in 25th century where they Connected like thawne always believed they would. that day ended up in a fight and thawne's imprisonment because he set up casualties to get attention and praise for being the flash of 25th century but unlike all other versions this thawne has a change of heart after the fight, too. he promises to 'fix everything' including himself, he even goes to therapy afterwards. then he goes to the 21st century to tell barry how much he accomplished since they last met and then sees barry saying to wally one meaningful phrase he said to thawne that perfect day. like it wasnt something special only barry and eobard shared. like the day they met never happened. like he forgot thawne ever existed. like he was replaced as barry's speedster partner/friend/whatever he thought they were after that day by wally. and that shatters thawne so much he runs back to 25th and just decides to become the reverse-flash and make barry suffer until he gives him attention and recognition he deserved. frank angones, i am inside your walls. you CANT deny you based your versions of dw and nd off flash comics and thawne particularly. and more, you legit made reverse!eobarry au and put it in dt in duck forms. i have been losing my mind about it for 3 years now. i am exposing you and there is nothing you can do to escape that.

fifth(ish). yeah, and btw about friendly four from life, the negaverse and everything. did you think they actually escaped being mirrored in the flash? ha. i present to you reverse-rogues from the 25th century aka the renegades, carefully created by zoom and thawne himself, thinking it would somehow be funny.

cant believe hunter once saw it on tv put 2 and 2 together and went 'eobard my dude we need to go full negaverse with the 25th century. we need a friendly four to your negaduck. i swear it'll be Hilarious'. god the only thing they lack at this point is nega!gosalyn (i mean. hunter actually did try something like that with inertia, saving him from the museum and trying to teach him how to torture flashfam into improving them but thad was more of a nega!honker and reverted hunter to crippled powerless state just because. love that kid)

and that's all i have so far, if anyone here also into both yellow-red mfs with no life feel free to comment or even add more because there sure is or at least will be more and no one has the power to stop it.

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cxltsxo · 10 months

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Double Edged Sword;

summary: in which Miles stops being friends with you to insure your safety

pairing: Earth 42 Miles Morales and fem!reader

cw: angst and lowkey terrible Spanish. I’m a bit rusty on my writing skills, its been a while.

inspo: saw an irl write abt Earth 42 Miles and felt like i just HAD to. I spent like 3 hours on this 😓

nsfw: no

(i wrote this in a delirious, nearly asleep state. I apologize for any errors I overlooked. Apparently i also forgot a title 💀.)

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There would never be an adequate word to describe how You felt in this moment.

Hurt, betrayed, alone?

No, none of those words could convey the way your heart ached at the knowledge that you had destroyed the only good thing God had ever deemed you worthy of.

Your 13 year friendship with your best friend, Miles Morales.

He had been there for you since the beginning of time. At least, that’s what it felt like. You two had known each other since the ripe age of 2 years old. You were neighbors and your mothers had become friends years before you were born, so they both watched you grow up with Miles, saying that you two were inseparable. It was true too, whether it was school work or even something as minuscule as taking out the trash, there was never a place where Miles was where you weren’t following close behind. It had always been that way, and you thought it always would be.

It seems that you may have been wrong.

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After school let out, you and Miles walked to the library down the street from your houses. It had been your ritual for almost 6 years now and even if you didn’t actually end up doing anything groundbreaking with him while you were there, his company itself was extremely pleasant and more than enough to keep you coming back, day after day, year after year. When you two arrived at the near-abandoned building, you claimed the two seats closest to the back of the lounge area while Miles searched for a book you both needed for your English class. If you read and studied together, you’d definitely be more likely to ace the exam you had over the reading at the end of the week. Miles was a genius, and while you were definitely not stupid, you could use the extra help from someone who knows what they’re doing. English was definitely your worst subject.

“Hey y/n? What’s the name of this book we’re supposed to be reading? I can’t find the email they sent out about it.”

Miles spoke rather loudly, earning multiple shushes from the surrounding population. You opened your mouth to speak while Miles flashed a sheepish grin to the old librarian who happened to be glaring daggers at him.

“Quiet down Miles you’re making the audience boo. It’s called ‘The Great Gatsby’. Did you check your spam folder? That’s where my email was.”

You articulated your words in a harsh fast whisper, feeling the eyes staring at the both of you from the surrounding area. Miles took note of your discomfort and stayed silent while he went to a book isle to the left of you. About 10 minutes later, he returned to the table with two copies of ‘The Great Gatsby’ in his hand, setting them down while he whispered in your ear.

“You were right. It was in the spam folder.”

You felt your face get warm. You could never understand why your body and mind treated you this way whenever Miles got too close for comfort, and honestly, you hoped you never did. You quickly pushed away the giddy feeling rising inside of you and looked up at Miles to see his gorgeous smile staring back at you. God, there was nothing you loved more than his smile. Except for being the cause of it, that was so much better.

Miles quickly noticed your staring. His smile widened while he quirked up his eyebrow in mock confusion.

“Is there something on my face mi vida? Or are you just taking in my beauty? Me pregunto si te duelen los ojos.”

You forced out a laugh, trying to ignore the fact that you nearly fall in love with him every time he decides to speak spanish to you. The added pet name definitely didn’t help your case much. You pushed out a quick “come sit down”, watching as he took his seat next to you and opened his book. All while having that same smile pointed at you. You barely managed to flash a small smile in return before you began popcorn reading with him for the next 2 hours and taking notes whenever you found something important to note. You had a lot more fun than you wanted to admit and had conquered over half the book while in the process. Needless to say, you were quite pleased with you and Miles’ efforts. The sun was beginning to set as you walked home with Miles in tow. It had been relatively quiet the rest of the way to your neighborhood, which was unusual considering Miles always had something to talk about. You heard faint typing sounds as well as the ‘delivered’ notification play from his phone. Curious, you decide to pry a bit.

“Who’re you texting?”

You watched as Miles startled, taken aback by the sudden question. He looked as if he wanted to tell you something, but decided against it,

“Ah- uh. No one y/n. Don’t worry about it.”

Miles’ sudden strange behavior threw you for a loop. He never hid things from you, even when they were embarrassing or something you just shouldn’t tell other people. Keeping secrets wasn’t his forte and you hated to admit that it did hurt a little that he wasn’t being completely truthful. You chose to leave it alone, figuring that it would be entirely nonsensical to make a big deal out of this situation. It wasn’t really even that serious right? There was no reason for you to be upset.

right?

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a sharp ‘ding’ coming from Miles’ phone. You glanced behind you as his facial expression shifted from neutral to nearly enraged. You had never seen Miles look like that before, and to be quite honest, it scared you. A sudden urge to check up on him took over you.

“Miles? Are you okay? What happened? You need me to beat someones ass for you?”

At that, Miles startled again. Wiping the clearly upset look off of his face, he smiled at you.

“Haha y/n. You couldn’t win a fight if your life depended on it. I’m okay, but I’m gonna have to say goodbye to you early. I’ll see you tomorrow at school though, Sorry!”

“Miles? Wha-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Miles had run off. To be completely honest, you were too tired to chase after him. holding your head in your hands, you walked the rest of the way home, alone.

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Two weeks.

It had been exactly two weeks since you had last heard from or seen Miles. You had texted him him every day asking him where he was and if he was alright, only to be left on delivered the entire time. Your chest felt tight. Your mom had talked to Mrs. Morales and found out that Miles hadn’t come home that night, but had texted his mother to let him know he was okay. You felt your stomach drop as worry and hurt began to set in. You were in the middle of praying to your nonexistent god when your mom knocked on your bedroom door, letting you know that Miles had returned home. You hurried out of your room and ran outside, banging on Miles’ door as soon as you reached it.

“MILES WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I’VE BEEN SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!”

You were pretty sure the entire neighborhood could hear you at this point, but you didn’t care. Miles had never once treated you like this and you were royally upset with him. You wanted an explanation, and a good one at that. Before you could scream anymore, the door opened to reveal Miles standing in the doorway. His expression looked troubled and he quickly cut you off before you could say anything else.

“Hey y/n… I know you’re mad at me already but we can’t… talk right now. For a while, actually. I’m sorry.”

You stood there with your jaw on the ground. You had lost the ability to speak. First, he had left you on delivered for two full weeks and now, now you couldn’t talk to him anymore? For a while? How long was a while? Your tried to regain your composure, bombarding him with questions while your anger slowly seeped into your words.

“What? Why? Where were you and why didn’t you respond to my texts? You didn’t even read them! Do you know how worried about you I was? You don’t do that kind of shit to your best friend! I thought you cared about me more than that. Are you too good to talk to me now?”

“No no! It’s nothing like that, I swear to you. It’s just… I can’t tell you y/n. You wouldn’t understand…. it would put you in danger and I can’t let you get hurt because of me. You mean a lot to me, so much. It’s just not safe for us to be close to each other right now. You won’t see me for a while. This is for your own good.”

Miles closed the door, leaving you standing there, speechless. Danger? Not safe? You didn’t know what any of it meant. You didn’t know what to do, or where to go. You just stood there, crying and holding your chest. You began to walk away from his doorstep. Stopping yourself before you could fully leave. You looked back at his door, the crimson red reflecting in your eyes. You remembered all the times you had opened that door. All the times Mr. and Mrs. Morales had you and your mother over for dinner, when you and Miles would play in his living room when you were younger, everything came flooding back all at once and you couldn’t take it anymore. You broke down into a sobbing mess, speaking four words before you ran back to your house.

“I love you, Miles.”

Little did you know, Miles had never left the door. Hearing you cry was the last straw for him. As he listened to your labored footsteps, he gave in to his tears.

“I know. I’m so sorry, just give me some time. I love you too y/n.”

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Pt 2 coming soon 🙏🏼

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #writeblr #writing #fanfiction writer #writerscorner #one shot?#miles morales #queer writers #female writers #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #i spent entirely too much time on this #literally so tired omfg #i lowkey hope this is decent #i havent written in so long

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fuzzballsheltiepants · 7 months

Text

So this has been said before and by better people than me, but the thing is, anything worth doing is worth doing badly.

There are people talking about AI art being somehow valid because it means that “anyone can create art” but—anyone can create art [see this post for some lovely discussion and examples.]. It’s part of what makes us human. Humanity has been unique among all of evolution for creating and sharing art, whether that be stories or music or paintings or crafts. Drawing in wet sand, handprints in concrete. Kids make art on our walls; we wash it off and they do it again. We sing in the shower and doodle on scrap paper. We tell stories because we don’t know how not to, even if it’s a simple as what happened during our day.

The oldest known instruments are bone flutes from 40000 years ago; likewise, the oldest known paintings. There are oral histories that have been passed down for tens of thousands of years. We yearn to create, to share parts of ourselves in one way or another. We yearn to learn about each other from these shared fragments. There are countless museums all over the world with millions of visitors each year who travel just to see what someone else created, what bits of themselves they gave to the world.

AI “art” isn’t art. It doesn’t create from a soul, it doesn’t share fragments of its self. It steals people’s fragments and mashes them together to make something that may be aesthetically pleasing, but that can never be more than that. It can’t tell a truth because it doesn’t know what truth is.

But in this modern world where everything is commodified, every hobby is supposed to be monetized, everything is supposed to pass some sort of “test”, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that aesthetically pleasing is all that matters. It’s easy to want to earn those clicks, those likes, to feel validated by something that was mashed together by your keystrokes. It's easy to embrace the pleasant lies.

It’s hard to be bad at something. It’s hard to spend hours making something, to make yourself vulnerable, and have it not live up to what was in your head. But that’s also the nature of being human. Nobody is born good at something; they work at it. And sometimes that work isn’t aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes the story reads awkwardly. Sometimes you hit a wrong note, or spend the whole song out of key. Sometimes the photo isn’t in focus, and the pot is lopsided, and the cake looks like you dropped it.

Sometimes you scare your cat with the glorious cacophony of learning.

You can’t get good without being bad first, and looking at what’s bad, and trying again. Maybe this time, your lines will be crisper, even if your proportions are still off. Maybe this time, you’ll have one good sentence, one good paragraph. This time, you’ll play Chopsticks and only be off on a couple of notes; your scarf is lumpy but it’s warm and vibrant. You remember the crumb layer on your cake and it tastes good, and you meant to take a picture of the flower but you got the bee in focus, and the pot is still lopsided but it looks like a Dali clock and you kind of like it.

Or maybe not. Maybe it will never be Insta-worthy, maybe it will lurk in your word processor for the rest of time, maybe the sketch never leaves the sketchbook and you never sing on stage. But even if it’s bad—it’s still truth. It’s still a piece of you. And that is still a celebration of being human.

If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.

#do things #do them badly #eventually maybe you'll do them well #but either way #it'll be real #it'll be yours #your voice is worth hearing #ai discourse #ai art

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earenwen-leafwhisper · 9 months

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Teaser " Not wanted"

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Chubby fem reader

Author’s note: Hi, I propose to tease a writing, that I wrote to clear my head of a day or even more, complicated.

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There is a feeling, or will it be instinct, which tells you quietly that you are not wanted in a place, it can happen everywhere, whether in school, in the street, at work, but also in the family.

A date was chosen, those of the games organized by Lord Baratheon, for the adoubement of his eldest son.

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x chubby reader #daemon x chubby reader #daemon targeryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

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acourtofthought · 10 months

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Just adding a disclaimer here since I recently got a harassing anon claiming I think I'm an expert on Az:

***I am not an expert on Azriel. This is simply my interpretation of the text and his character of which there can be many. Until SJM confirms or disproves things in her next book, my interpretation will only be as valid or as wrong as anyone else's. These are only my thoughts and opinions. If you are bothered with Anti E/riel posts than I encourage you to look away and seek out blogs that are more in line with your own thoughts***

WHY DOES AZ WANT ELAIN TO BE HIS MATE?

Because "the Cauldron chose three sisters."

Because "my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another "

Because "Lucien will never be good enough for her" (this is not fact but merely a comment born from Azriel's own insecurities. Lucien is a favorite of the authors, a character who has been around since book 1, and a character she's setting up to be a High Lord so he's obviously "good enough").

Because "she has no interest in him anyway"

Because she gave him a gift last Solstice but didn't get her mate one.

Because of the envy in his chest

Because Elain knows why he doesn't come to family dinners or why he didn't go near the fire.

In my opinion, those don't seem like valid enough reasons to want a mating bond with someone because those things don't speak of Elain as an individual outside of Az.

SJM is a romance author and if she wants readers to believe a male is in love with a female, she's not going have us fill in the blanks as to why he loves her.

Some claim Az wants to be Elain's mate because he truly loves her but nothing Az has said or thought has managed to convince me that's the case. He might love the idea of having a mate and being worthy of a bond, he might love the idea of being someone's protector, he might love the idea of three brothers and three sisters because of the convenience but what does any of that have to do with the person Elain is?

Feyre and Nesta could have had another attractive third sister named (XYZ) and those particular statements would still hold true.

If Elain had interest in Lucien then would Az feel the same? Or is it only because Elain doesn't seem interested that he latched on to the idea of the third sister being available so he could be part of the three bothers / three sisters club?

If she hadn't gotten him a gift last year, would he have become fixated on her?

He would have still felt envious of Rhys and Cassian even if Feyre and Nesta had no third sister.

Elain knowing why he hasn't been to family dinners is once again making it all about Az and he doesn't give her credit for how she knows. He could have said, "Elain was always so observant / perceptive and it was something that impressed him" (something Cassian actually acknowledges about Elain) but we don't get that even though he's got no issues thinking on Gwyns charming irreverence later in the series. That she's come a long way since Sangravah. That she gives a beautiful, precise blow with her sword. Why are his thoughts of Gwyn as an individual more poetic than those he has of Elain as an individual (outside of her physical appearance)? The thought of Gwyn's happiness sparks something in his chest but does he ever think of Elain's happiness?

What about Elain outside of Az does Az like? You should like someone for who they are and not only what you think they do for you.

Even as early as book 1, we get the sense that Rhys is impressed with Feyre outside of what Feyre has done for him:

A deep, elegant voice replied this time. “She’s building a trap.” Rhysand. “But the Middengard—” “Relies on its scent to see,” Rhysand answered, and I gave a special glower for him as I glanced at the rim of the trench and found him smiling at me. “And Feyre just became invisible.” His violet eyes twinkled. I made an obscene gesture before I broke into a run, heading straight for the worm.

“Yes, I’d say almost my entire court bet on you dying within the first minute; some said you’d last five, and”—she turned over the paper—“and just one person said you would win.”

Early on in book 2:

“You are no one’s subject.”

“You can be a pawn, be someone’s reward, and spend the rest of your immortal life bowing and scraping and pretending you’re less than him, than Ianthe, than any of us. If you want to pick that road, then fine. A shame, but it’s your choice.” The shadow of wings rippled again. “But I know you—more than you realize, I think—and I don’t believe for one damn minute that you’re remotely fine with being a pretty trophy for someone who sat on his ass for nearly fifty years, then sat on his ass while you were shredded apart—” “Stop it—” “Or,” he plowed ahead, “you’ve got another choice. You can master whatever powers we gave to you, and make it count. You can play a role in this war.

Even before Nessian's book, Cassian has a lot to say about Nesta as a person:

He’d left their frst encounter here not entirely sure where he’d stood, or who’d had the upper hand.

And, Mother damn him, in the past few weeks, he’d found himself turning over every word and look he’d exchanged with her, over and over.

“You’re ten minutes late,” she only said, moving toward the far end of theroom, wherea frecrackled against early springs chill. Where the sound of the flames might cover their voices. Clever girl.

His temper rose with dizzying speed at the words, the absurd perfection of her. A blade given form—that’s what she was.

The fire drew out the golden sheen in Nesta’s hair as she angled her head. A predator sizing up a worthy opponent.

And in those blue-gray eyes, he could see the thoughts swirling in her as if they were smoke under glass. The cunning mind at work behind that face

He’d seen that fire before—and the steel. He half wondered what might happen if the two of them ever met. What might come of it.

With Rhys and Cassian I can feel the respect they have for Feyre and Nesta and none of that has anything to do with what the sisters had done for them. In fact both Feyre and Nesta fought like hell against Rhys and Cassian at that time in the story, actively expressing their disinterest towards them, yet the males were still impressed by who the females were.

Shouldn't Az be thinking about how impressed he was that Elain stood up to Nesta? Shouldn't he admire her for wanting to help do something dangerous, encouraging her to follow through because he believes she can? Shouldn't he (and not Cassian) be commenting on how Elain saw everything Nesta was?

Instead it's "Elain got "ME" a gift" and Elain knows why "I" don't come to dinners" and "I" saved Elain after all (even though Elain saved Briar, Nesta and Cassian and stabbed the King which are all big deals yet he doesn't ever mention any of that). It's like he doesn't view Elain as anything outside of what she's done for him or that he got to save a damsel in distress. And sure, he lent her TT but that's so he could feel like he was doing something worthy after Cassian first tried to. Yes, he helped her with the potatoes but that's because she reminded him of his mother being a servant.

Why do we have both Rhys and Cassian remark on Feyre and Nesta's cleverness yet we've never heard anything remotely close to that from Az? Why did Lucien give Elain credit for killing the king yet Azriel never once thinks on it or mentions it to Cassian as proof that she is capable of doing the things that need to be done? What about Elain impresses Az? If we have no examples in his own words or thoughts of why he likes her outside of "she got him a gift", "she doesn't want her mate" and, "she's a beautiful female whose scent of arousal makes his eyes roll back in his head" then I'm standing firmly in my belief that he doesn't actually want Elain for Elain.

#anti e/riel #antielriel #gwynriel

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saphirered · 2 years

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hiii idk if you know the musical Wicked, but I was thinking of an imagine surrounding the song “Not That Girl” with Vax or Percy?

Wicked is soooo good I love it! Hope you like what I cooked up for this one! Did go with a at twist and happy ending though so hope you don't mind. 😘

Percy laughs. Like a proper unburdened laugh. Those have been a rarity for him for many years but finally he is free. Finally he has his love in his arms. Together they are spinning across the dance floor, surrounded by the many who watch them, or dance with them. The halls of this castle no longer drown in the blood of others, instead they shine clean and bright in the candlelight. There is joy once more despite all past horrors. He didn’t think himself capable, to live a life without that constant pain and anger, and while he still has so much grief to go around, it’s more bearable. He doesn’t feel guilty for being happy, and instead finally feels he’s worthy of it, he’s worthy of the beautiful half-elf in his arms. He’s worthy of her smile. He’s worthy of her kiss and her attention. He’s simply worthy. It took him some time to get there but he can finally believe it too, and take her word for it. She is the best thing to ever happen to him.

From that same floor, polished and shining, along the strings of that same music that bounces with the beat of a heart and lulls along the limbs of the restless in beautiful symphonies, there stands another, watching the happy couple as they look at each other lovingly. They deserve this. They have fought for this. That’s what you keep telling yourself. You tell yourself you’re happy for them, and you are. You truly are but you too , are haunted by the memories of a past and your demons have not yet been vanquished by a lover bright. All your life you were told you’d be the one at his side. Your entire existence was built around these chains that constricted you, to live up to that expectation, that destiny. You were supposed to be the one in his arms and you are not. It is not jealousy that fuels you now. No, you do not burst green with envy. You do not long for the Lord of Whitestone. You long for love. You long for the life you were promised and to see that it will never be yours, that hurts, for what is your path now? Where do you go? Where do you belong if not here at this castle? You mourn what could have been, but it does not do well to dwell on such things.

He loves her so, but you’ll never be her. You can’t be and you don’t want to be but that does not make the ache of what could have been go away. So you watch, like so many others, watch them dance, watch them be in love and be happy for them, even if your heart clenches. You dream that maybe someday you will be lucky to find that kind of love, find someone who stares at you like that, who holds you like that, shields you from this world when it becomes too much. He is exactly all those things you’d wish for, but he is not the one for you. So you smile. You smile until your mourning of the life that could have been becomes too much because he loves her so and tell yourself something different. You tell yourself the things you were promised are not what you were born for after all. You’re not meant for the rose and pearl. And thus you slip from the crowd, slip from the beautiful halls, away from the light and into the shadows. You look back at your old life just the once, and you miss the warmth the further from that glow you get. You long to go back but you can’t. You’ll refuse to be stuck in a castle you do not belong. You will never be what you need to be there and you owe it to yourself to just be you.

At the bottom of the stairs Vax’ildan has settled down. Behind him he hears the music, and chattering of the fancy and the fooled. He knows that life all too well. Knows what he was once pushed into, and what he broke free from. He’s not cut out for that life and while he will humour his friends, by attending these gatherings when he needs to, or simply to spend time with them, he can only put up with so much before he’d rather slip back into the shadows. Let the people who glimmer in the candlelight shine. He is perfectly content not being there. But sometimes he wonders; what if he had not discarded that part of his life? What if he had done as his sister had, had tried to fit in and not given up? Would he be dancing with them right now? Would he be clinking glasses over empty promises and charming smiles? Would he have enjoyed it? He doesn’t really know the answer to that. Instead he’ll sit outside on the stairs, in his fancy clothes playing with the dagger he’d kept hidden to distract himself before he made himself scarce.

“You look lonely.” A voice behind him speaks and nearly makes him jump out of his skin. He drops the dagger and it clanks against the stone, beginning to bounce down as his eyes fall on you. You look positively radiant, so much so you catch his breath and he forgets where he is, what he’s doing. You quickly reach out your hand in the air and the clanks fall silent. A translucent hand brings the dagger back to his side as you take some more steps down. Vax shakes himself off.

“I-uh. The company inside didn’t really suit me. What’s your excuse?” It came out a bit more hostile than he intended, given the way you flinch.

“I needed some air and a change of scene.” You speak as proper as ever but that flicker of pain that crosses your features when you look back at the grand castle does not go unnoticed to the rogue, even if you managed to sneak up on him before. You stand there for a few seconds before you take another step and then another. You place the dagger back by his side and dispel the mage hand you summoned to catch it with the flick of your wrist.

“Sorry.” You mutter under your breath even though you know not what for, when you’re about to pass the rogue.

“Come sit with me.” The offer was an impulsive one, Vax will admit but something within him screams. It’s done so before but he’s quelled it then. Now he loosens that restrain simply for one reason; you look lonely too.

“Are you sure?” He gives you a look that answers your question enough and so you look at the step, then at your clothes and the step he’s seated on again.

“What? Scared of some stains on your pretty clothes?” He jokes and you simply plop yourself down. He knows you’ve never been scared to get your hands, or clothes dirty for that matter. He’s seen you crawl through swamps and soil and gore plenty of times. No matter what, you’d always manage to look stunning to him. He’s never shared these thoughts of course because he knew where you came from, he knows where you’re meant to go. He’s not meant for a life like yours. He may once have been among rose petals and gilded halls but that’s not the life he resigned himself to. That’s exactly why he sits on these steps now. You are meant for a different life and he can never be the man that drinks champagne over talks of politics. He’ll never be the one to smile through the bullshit of others. He will never get his steps right of those fancy waltzes no matter how quick and light on his feet he may be. You belong among the shining gems. Not in the shadows with him.

Sometimes Vax wonders, though. He dreams of what a life with you might be. Would he be standing next to you in this life of extravagance? Would he be on that dance floor now with you in his arms, swaying back and forth with a crowd more akin to an audience, ignorant to the performance you’d have to put on in favour of enjoying his time with you? Would he pick you up in your fancy clothes and carry you through the halls to make you laugh? Would you laugh? Would your smile be so bright it would make him feel warm and wanted inside? Would you love him so? Could you love him so? It is not meant to be because you belong up there among the golden ones while he lingers in his shadows, away from the light. His heart aches for what might have been had he chosen the same life as his sister. Where might he be now? Where might you be now?

“You look sad.” You state when you see his frown, and the distance of thought in his eyes as you observe the rogue. It’s an innocent statement, and you seem to reflect his mood in your own voice.

“It’s nothing.” He brushes it off. You always know exactly how he feels. He can’t hide anything from you. No matter how hard he tries, for better or worse. And so a sad smile graces his lips. “You shouldn’t stay too long. They’ll miss you in there.”

“Do you wish for me to leave?” You ask concerned. It nearly breaks his heart how you sound as if you’ve offended him.

“No! No. Please, stay, if you want to. I invited you to sit after all. I just mean, they’ll notice you’re gone. Just don’t feel like you have to because you don’t want me to sit here on my own.” When you visibly relax Vax feels like he can finally breathe again. You relax into your spot; shoulders drooping, and posture slouching just a little, leaving enough of a trace of what you were born into and were you a child, you’d have been scolded for it. You’re at ease. Or as much as you can be. He counts himself lucky to be one of the few people who you feel comfortable around to do so. But then he notices on your features; an expression that mimicked his own and he frowns once more, but not for his own thoughts, and instead for what might run through your own head, whatever it is. You shouldn’t feel sad. You deserve all the happiness in the world. You once claimed you enjoyed nights of dancing and dining, that they never failed to bring a smile to your face but tonight, that seems a forgotten dream.

“You look sad.” He repeats your own words from earlier but fills them with compassion and kinship, fills them with kindness and acceptance because while he’d rather you’d be smiling happily, he understands that sometimes sadness is just as much part of life. You are no stranger to pain and neither is he. Sometimes you just have to be reminded you’re not alone in this and he will gladly show you he’s there for you when you need him, because at the end of the day, even if your life is not meant for him, he still cares about you and still wants you to have all that is good in this life of yours because you deserve happiness. You deserve it. You’ve more than earned it.

“Normally, I might have pretended to smile and dismiss the pure notion of sadness in the eyes of others. But I don’t think I can muster the strength nor courage to do so tonight.” You admit hesitantly. Layer by layer you are shaking off the burdens that were placed upon you. Perhaps this is the start of it; to be true to who you are, who you might be without these comforts you’ve grown accustomed to but were they comforts in the first place? Or have they always been chains?

“It takes just as much strength and courage to say the words you just said.” It’s a simple statement. Not a counter argument. Just an acknowledgement. You take a deep breath as you feel his eyes on you. You opt for staring at the skyline, if only not to break apart now. Vax continues. “You have lived a life shaped by others. You’ve been raised among shining gems and have become the brightest of jewels in turn. But I know it comes with many downsides. I ran away from that kind of life for a reason. I admire you for staying.” He speaks from his heart, true feelings without deceit or some kind of twisting fanciness compelled by the rules of social engagement.

“Sometimes I’ve found myself wondering what would have happened if I had run away. Tonight I just find myself wishing I’d never stepped into a gilded life at all. How did you do it? How did you know your decision was the right one?” Your voice tremors. You’re troubled, it’s clear to see. Vax slowly brings his hand over to yours, placing his palm over it as he wraps his fingers around to hold your hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. He thinks about his answer for a second. Just a second.

“I didn’t know it was the right decision. Sometimes I still wonder if it was, or what might have been if I hadn’t. I think I might have been up there.” He nudges his head towards the castle. “With the others. With you. I might have been dancing and drinking among ‘esteemed company’ even though we both know they’re a bunch of fucking drunkards with too much coin in their pockets.” That brings a smile to your face and lets a light chuckle escape your lips. You look more relaxed this time, and while the sadness still lingers it feels as if some rush of joy remains within. You curl your own fingers around his and squeeze lightly.

“You’re not wrong.” A moment of silence passes. “If it matters, I think you made the right call.”

“How so?”

“Because unlike you, I’ve watched the life set out for me crumble in the end, and be resigned to a futile purpose no longer necessary nor wanted. I don’t belong up there. Not anymore.” There’s the sad again. You look at your clasped hands so Vax turns sideways to face you better. Lifts his fingers beneath your chin and turns your gaze to look him in the eye.

“Hey, it’s your life. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s we get to choose where we want to be; up there between jewels and champagne, down here under the stars and moonlight, or anywhere else we choose to be. Life doesn’t end here nor there. You matter and you are wanted. I know you are. Even if you can’t see it yourself, I see you.” He speaks from his heart. You do not need twelve scholars on social encounters to have taught you that because you feel it in your own heart. You feel like you belong again. Neither here nor there. You belong here right now in this moment and you know, you made the right call walking out here because in a way, the air feels less stuffy and you feel the chains lifting little by little.

“I think those are the most truthful words I’ve ever heard someone say.”

“I think that’s sad.”

“I know it is. But it’s true no less.” Vax rises to his feel, never letting go of your joined hands.

“Come on?” He asks more than anything. You don’t find it within yourself to question, let alone refuse and simply allow him to pull you to your feet and further down the stairs until you stand on even ground once more, the sounds of the party in the distance still audible. He’ll admit he’s acting on impulse and stupidity but that’s exactly what this calls for. He faces you, takes a step back, lowers his head and bends his knees in a curtsy.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance?” Vax asks awaiting your answer patiently, not moving a muscle. Some training has stuck with him, even after all these years. Perhaps that was because it was not some teachers and governesses that taught him this. No, his mother did. She taught him how to dance, and while it were no palace waltzes, she taught him the proper etiquette. That’s why he cared to remember them because every time he practiced them it made her smile. He knows you enjoy dancing, be that your fancy and practiced routines, or simply letting loose in the tavern when everyone is a little too deep into their cups.

“I-… yes…” You breathe. And with a smile of his own he rises to look into your bewildered eyes. He crosses his arms at the wrist, lets his palms face upward for you to place yours within.

“Now, tonight we dance the dance of peasants. No more melancholic string quartets. Just let yourself go. Think you can do that?” You give him a thoughtful look, as if you’re debating but he know it’s your lightheartedness coming through and he feels relieved. he feels his heart leap when you take a step closer and place your hands in his with a smile.

And so you spin and twirl and jump and step to the beat of your own drums. You laugh and chime and sing songs of the taverns, and whatever else you might have picked up on your adventures. Vax has rarely seen you like this, this alive, this unrestraint because with every time he twirls you, every time he wraps his arms around you, you seem to grow lighter, less burdened by the weight you didn’t even realise you carried. And finally you are free from the chains that bound you. Like him, you have found your freedom in the shadows. It took him a long time to realise the shadows aren’t so lonely, and only now he realised, perhaps you didn’t belong in the gilded halls. That doesn’t make you less of a perfect diamond. You were simply to precious to be among the many jewels and your beauty truly shines here under the moon, not because of some fancy appearances or good manners but because you smile and laugh and dance to your heart’s content. No longer do you worry about what others might mean or think or say or do at every turn. You can simply be free. Thanks to the rogue who showed you what it means to live instead of just be alive.

It comes to him as a surprise when by the end of the night your lips find his cheek and you mutter a thank you. His cheeks stain crimson when you say you hope this will not be the last of these kind of nights and if it’s up to him, he’ll offer you this every night to come, just to see you happy. You deserve happiness. He’ll hand it to you at every opportunity.

#critical role x reader #vox machina x reader #vax’ildan x reader #vax x reader #vax'ildan #critrole x reader #critical role #critical role fanfic #legend of vox machina #tlovm x reader #vox machina #critical role fanfiction #critical role imagine #percy de rolo x reader #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia

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