#the gender and colonialism walking hand in hand

[ourlittlesister2015]

La Folie Almayer (2011), dir. Chantal Akerman

#the gender and colonialism walking hand in hand #chantal akerman #la folie almayer #almayer's folly #* #film stills #dailyworldcinema

[system-to-the-madness]

Cherry Blossom Comfort 🌸 Zuko x Reader

Pairing: Zuko x Reader(can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1 724 Warnings: Major Spoilers for the graphic novel “The Search” Summary: Zuko opens up to you about his feelings about his family

Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist

Zuko’s head was heavily resting in your lap, cushioned on the deep red fabric of your gown pulled over your soft thighs. His amber eyes watched your face closely as you ran your hands through his dark hair, admiring the way the soft strands so effortlessly slipped through your fingers. It had been a while since you had sat like this. Between the conflict at the former colony of Yu Dao, now its own state, and the immediately following search for Zuko’s mother, there had been little time for any kind of quiet intimacy between Zuko and you.

After you had found his mother, and had returned to the palace, Zuko had been quieter than you knew him to be. He had spent a long time talking to his mother before leaving her and his half-sister in order to return to the palace, and you suspected that whatever they had discussed, was still occupying his mind. Usually, he talked to you about whatever thought he couldn’t get rid of, but so far, he had kept it shut inside, making you wonder if it simply was something he did not want to share, if he didn’t want to share it with you, or if he only needed a little more time to think about it.

A few days ago, he had eventually asked if you wanted to come to Ba Sing Se with him, an invitation you had gladly taken. You were staying at his uncle's place, a small house with only a few rooms, which gave the two of you the opportunity to share the narrow bed and cuddle up each night. In the palace, there were always guards around, and Zuko had been advised that it would be better if the two of you were not to sleep in the same room, at least not too often, to avoid gossip. Zuko had been in an especially bad mood after that for a while, grumbling about how he was your boyfriend and why anybody other than the two of you should be concerned with your relationship.  But if he had learnt anything in the year of being Fire Lord, it was that certain advice was better to be followed, and as much as both of you hated it, this was one of the instances.

This in turn meant both of you cherished the time at Uncle Iroh’s home even more. With the excuse of not enough space, you got to share a bed each night, falling asleep in each other’s arms without the concern of guards walking in or starting rumours.

Both of you were aware that you could not hide out in Ba Sing Se forever, but you had agreed that a holiday of a few days would be acceptable, and so you spent the days either helping in Uncle Iroh’s tea shop or talking long walks in the parks that spread wide and far through the city.

Now you were sitting in the garden that belonged to his uncle’s tea shop, back against the trunk of a blooming cherry tree, Zuko laying spread out on the ground, his head resting in your lap. Usually, you would have taken the opportunity to ask him what he was thinking about, but considering the events of the past month, the almost-war at Yu Dao and the reunion with his mother, which he still hadn’t talked about, you thought it would be better if he were the one to talk first. Or not. While you were curious about what had happened, you never wanted to make him feel like you were prying into parts of his life he wasn’t ready to share with you.

His eyes flickered from your face to the pink blossoms above your heads, before focusing back on you, a smile tucking at his lips before he spoke.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “For the time in which I was thinking Ikem was my father, I was almost relieved.”

Ikem, the man his mother had loved before having been married to his father Ozai, and the man who she had returned to after leaving the palace.

Quietly you nodded, more to yourself than Zuko. You had suspected as much, judging from his behaviour and how he had talked about Ozai in these days.

“If Ikem had been my father, I’d never have to worry about turning out like Ozai again,” he explained, his eyes almost absentmindedly tracing your features, like a routine that brought him comfort. “I wouldn’t be in danger to turn as crazy and delusional as him, or Azula. And I could have stopped feeling guilty for not being as powerful a firebender as them.”

You wanted to disagree, tell him he was as good as them, but the truth was they were more powerful than he would probably ever be, even though he had by far the better techniques and his skills were more refined. The only ones who had ever looked down on him for that had been the two of them, and to you it couldn’t matter less how good at firebending he was, or whether he was a bender at all. But you had a feeling this talk was better to be had at another time. Right now it was more important that Zuko got to share his thoughts uninterrupted, while he felt safe and comfortable enough to confide you.

“And Azula…” He trailed off, his eyes leaving your face and returning to the blossoms above him. “I always got told these stories when I was little, about siblings sticking together, through thick and thin, like Sokka and Katara. But Azula and I never were like that. Even when I tried to be what I thought a big brother should be like, she only ever took pleasure in humiliating me. If I had been only her half-brother, it would have felt like an explanation, and I could have stopped feeling guilty for it.”

A crease was forming on his forehead, and you brought your hand from his hair to his face, brushing over his forehead with your thumb.

“Why would you feel guilty for the way she was treating you, hm,” you asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Zuko agreed. “Still there were times when I just wanted to get along with her. I just wanted a normal family. For my father to love me the way my mother had, for Azula to treat me like her brother, even if that includes the one or the other rivalry. But not like some second-class human being.”

“In Azula’s eyes everyone who isn’t her is a second-class human being,” you mumbled.

“I know,” Zuko sighed. “But still.”

“I’m sorry that you never got the family you wished for,” you whispered. “You have every right to be upset about that.”

“For a moment I thought, I could have that family, you know,” Zuko admitted. “If Ikem really would have been my father- I could have had a normal family, the one I always wanted, a father who’s proud of me, my mother who never made me feel small or irrelevant and a sister who actually sees me as a human and not just a challenge.” He took a deep breath. “But I always would have doubted my position as Fire Lord,” he continued. “I wouldn’t have known where I belonged anymore.” He hesitated for a moment before he added: “I think I would have even started to doubt that I belong at your side.”

“I wouldn’t have allowed you to doubt that,” you told him, and the crease on his forehead softened under your insistent brushing over it. You could have been only of little help if he had started doubting his position as Fire Lord, but you would never let him question that the two of you belonged with each other. That was not a matter of heritage, it was a matter of your hearts, your souls. As dramatic as it sounded, you were convinced that Zuko and you were bound together by more than the emotions you were aware of.

Even before you had really gotten to know another, back when you had still been enemies, you had always found and saved each other, even when all rationality had dictated the opposite. You had defied probability and logic again and again, consciously, and subconsciously, so much that by the time Zuko had turned up at the Wester Air Temple with an awkward “Hello, Zuko here”, you had been convinced you were cursed to always run into him.

Now you were convinced it was something else entirely, something that would lead you back to find each other no matter when and where you were. For a while Zuko had loved to throw around the word ‘destiny’, and even though you hardly believed in that concept, you couldn’t imagine to not be bound to him by destiny.

Zuko’s eyes found yours, clear amber staring up at you on a mixture of wonder and admiration.

“No,” he finally agreed with you. “I belong with you. No matter who I am, or where, or when. I’m yours.”

You smiled at the certainty in his voice, knowing that right now there was absolutely no doubt in neither of your hearts about that. Gently you brushed his hair aside and leant down to press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flickered closed blissfully, and you grinned at the way he puckered his lips, expecting a kiss there too, but you pulled away teasingly. When he realised you weren’t going to kiss him, he blinked his eyes open, frowning at you disapprovingly, while snuggling into the palm with which you cupped his face. Sometimes it still surprised you how touch starved he was.

“And I’m yours,” you whispered, making him blush. After almost a year of exchanged whispers like this you would think he had gotten used to them yet, but you loved how you were still able to fluster him so easily.

“I’m just glad I get to be by your side,” Zuko confessed, making you smile.

“I’m glad, too,” you replied before leaning down again, this time softly kissing his lips, pretending like the soft sigh that slipped past his lips did not make your heart skip a beat, but you had a feeling Zuko knew either way.

#sakura festival #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko x yn #fire lord zuko x reader #fire lord zuko x you #fire lord zuko x y/n #fire lord zuko x yn #avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender x you #avatar the last airbender x y/n #avatar the last airbender x yn #atla x reader #atla x you #atla x y/n #atla x yn #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #avatar x yn #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar the last airbender fanfic #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #atla fic #atla fanfic #atla fanfiction #avatar fic #avatar fanfic #avatar fanfiction

[chickenlizard13]

Let Me See

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 4742

Warnings: Fluff, Mature 18+ (get outta here you kids)

Description: I’m really just doing whatever I want at this point. Can be read as a sequel to All You’ve Done, but can also be read as a standalone. Prequel to Stay Right Here.

Holding the box in your lap, you bounce your knees impatiently, awaiting Ominis’s return. You sat on the couch, fearing he’d take the gift as an insult, rather than the assistance it was meant to be. 

Grabbing your journal from the side table, you read the incantation again, and again, and again, knowing it by heart but still afraid you’d make a mistake. It was getting late, a heavy rainstorm obscuring the front gate of the property, making you all the more anxious. Ominis was always punctual, if not early, so it concerned you that he still hadn’t walked through the front door. 

Taking a few calming breaths, you reminded yourself that Ominis was incredibly capable, more so than you at times, so it wouldn’t do to sit around worrying. 

Standing up, you gingerly place the box on the couch, heading into the kitchen to make tea. Ominis would certainly appreciate a hot cup after the cold storm. You’d just put the pot on the flames, when two freezing hands appeared on your hips. Yelping, you turn around to an absolutely soaked Ominis, grinning down at you mischievously.

“Hello, darling.”  

“Ominis! I don’t understand how you keep doing this. Why is it, I can level an entire poacher camp alone, but I never hear you sneaking up behind me?” His grin widened as he took a step towards you, the puddle forming at his feet growing larger.

“It’s not my fault you keep letting your guard down. Perhaps you’ve become rusty?” 

Scoffing, a drop from his wet hair lands directly on your forehead, startling you. “My love, go change. Those clothes can’t be comfortable.” 

You try to move out of his grasp, but find yourself being tugged back, your hands landing on soaked biceps. 

“I’m actually quite comfortable right here.”

Water continues to drip on you from his hair as you squirm, laughing in his arms, his smile becoming more maniacal the longer you struggle. “Ominis! Release me you scoundrel, you’re soaked! Go dry off!” 

Instead, he hauls your body right up against him, shoving his face into the crook of your neck. You again squeal at him to let go, but he refuses to budge. 

Finally he raises his face, kissing you sweetly on the lips, before pulling away slightly. You gaze up at him in annoyance, grimacing. “I’m wet.”

He chuckles playfully, humming as he kisses you again and whispers against your lips. “You will be.” 

Blushing, you smack him on the arm and he steals one last kiss before releasing you to change, laughing the whole way up the stairs. 

You look down at yourself, now also soaked, and shake your head, a small amused smile gracing your lips. Grabbing your wand, you dry yourself off and clean up the water Ominis had tracked into the kitchen. 

The house had once belonged to Professor Fig, and was passed to you upon his death. It sat isolated on a high cliff, overlooking the ocean. Wildflowers bloomed in the yard, their stalks shaking wildly as Ominis’s ever growing cat colony chased each other through the grass. 

You’d moved in immediately after seventh year, not having another place to go, and not wanting to return to the muggle world. Ominis had returned to the Gaunt estate at first, but showed up at your doorstep in hysterics late one night, cursing his family name and the marriage they’d tried to force on him. You’d ushered him through the door, and he never walked back out. 

It’d been several years since then, and every day you were grateful to have him. At times, you had to stop and steady yourself, awed by the love he bestowed on you constantly. You thought it a crime that his family attempted to rob him of his gentle soul, and you swore to pay them back tenfold if they ever tried again. 

The tea pot whistled loudly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Grabbing two cups, you bring the tea out to the living room, startling slightly when you see Ominis standing by the couch, back to you. 

He’d changed into dry comfortable clothes, turning around when he heard you enter. In one hand he held the box you’d set on the couch, in the other, he held the contents of said box. 

“Darling, this was on the sofa. Is it yours?” You set the tea down on a table and walk over to him.

“It’s yours actually.” 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “A scarf? I have plenty of scarves my love, something you remind me of constantly.” 

Rolling your eyes, you worm your way under his arm, hugging his side,  arms wrapping around his waist. “It’s not just any scarf, you silly man.” 

He makes a curious sound in the back of his throat as he leans his head on top of yours. “Care to enlighten me?” 

Back at Hogwarts, Natty informed you of a certain charm taught at Uagadou. The spell allowed the caster to see through the eyes of a familiar. You’d immediately thought about Ominis, that maybe he’d be interested in trying it out, but Natty said that she wasn’t sure if it’d work on someone who was already blind. Thus, began the long journey of trial and error, often forcing Sebastian to play guinea pig with a blindfold. 

Once you were sure you’d perfected the charm for your purposes, you’d gotten to work on the familiar part. Natty was very specific, stating that the caster and familiar had to have a deep connection, and Ominis wasn’t overly fond of most beasts. He loved the cats of course, but you wouldn’t say there was one he favored in particular. 

Then the thought came to you, perhaps if you made something yourself, and then transfigured it into an animal, your connection with Ominis would translate over. Honestly, you’d have probably been able to show him sooner, if learning to knit hadn’t taken so long. 

Now though, everything was finally ready. Ominis held a cream colored scarf in his hand, both of your initials embroidered in the corner. “Why don’t you sit down, my love.” 

Ominis cocks his brow at you, but obeys, sitting down and patting the seat next to him. You sit and take his unoccupied hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“So, I’ve been working on something, for you, for quite a long time now, and I think it’s finally ready.” 

His thumb swept back and forth across your hand, body turned towards you attentively. “The scarf? You made it?” 

Nodding, you continue your explanation. “That’s not all. I- There’s a spell that would allow someone to use a familiar to…see.” 

You felt his fingers tighten on yours as his brows furrowed. “But I…I don’t have a familiar. How would-“

“That’s where the scarf comes in. I’m going to transfigure it.” 

Ominis breathed out, not saying anything more. You would be worried that he was cross with you, if not for the thumb still stroking lazy circles on the back of your hand. “And…you’ve been working on this? For how long?”

You pressed your lips together, unable to read his face to tell what he was feeling. “Since our seventh year.” 

Ominis sucked in a breath, his voice coming out in a whisper. “That long?” 

He clutched the scarf in his hand, holding it close to him, voice just above a whisper. “Show me.”

Squeezing his hand reassuringly, you take out your wand, and waving it over the scarf, you watch as it transfigures into a smooth white snake. You just thought he’d look so good with a snake draped over his shoulders, making such a striking image combined with his pressed jackets and manicured hair. He smirked slightly at you, raising an eyebrow in amusement. 

“A snake? Really?” 

“Shut up. Are…Are you ready?” 

His face becomes serious again, hesitating only a moment before nodding his head. You took a deep breath, praying for success. He closed his eyes, squeezing your hand as you cast the spell. You were sure to be extra careful with your pronunciation, placing your wand on the table when you finished. He waited a beat before cracking an eye open, sucking in a breath and snapping it shut again. 

You reached for him, heart sinking, fearing the worst. Before your hands could get too far, he was shoving his face into your shoulder, eyes still pinched shut. “Ominis, what’s wrong? Did it not-”

“It worked. I’m just- I just need a moment.” You could feel him take calming breaths against your skin, allowing him to stay there until he was ready. Slowly, he leaned back, eyes still shut. Blinking slowly, he opened them, taking in the carpet under his feet. He studied the patterns, following the black swirls, before looking at the fireplace. The snake’s head mirrored his movements, silently showing him what he wanted. He sat mesmerized by the fire for a moment, before looking back at the carpet, the snake moving in sync. 

“What…what color is that?”

You didn’t take your eyes off him, knowing what he was asking about. “Red.”

He mouthed the word, staring for a moment more, before turning his gaze to look at you. It looked like all the air left his body as he locked eyes with you, his breath shuddering out of him. “...oh.” 

His eyes darted around your face, a stricken look on his features, mouth slightly open. You didn’t know what he meant, feeling slightly self conscious under his attention, resisting the urge to cross your arms in front of you. You’d never felt insecure in your relationship, but suddenly you worried he didn’t like what he saw, nervous it would have a negative effect on his feelings for you. 

You unintentionally shied away from his intense scrutiny, and his hand shot out to your face, chasing you. “Please don’t run.”

He swallowed, still staring at you with wide eyes. “I’m-I’m sorry, it’s just…that’s…that’s what you look like? I- How- How did you end up with…me?” 

You looked at him bewildered, his eyes drinking in the new expression. “How did I…end up with you? Ominis I- because you’re kind, and generous, and-”

“But you just look so…I don’t- I can’t articulate how-” He stopped abruptly, releasing an irritated huff at his fumbling. 

You realized that he’d never seen himself before. He didn’t know how beautiful he was. Standing suddenly, you haul him up, dragging him to the nearest mirror. The snake slithered up his arm, resting its long body around his shoulders, head turning quickly as Ominis tried to look at every object you passed. 

You lead him to a mirror hanging in the hall, stopping in front of it. “How did you end up with me? My love, take a look at yourself.” 

He turned his attention to the mirror, eyes wide. His hand came up to touch his face. “Are these…moles? I have so many.” 

Hugging one arm, you lean your head against him, watching him inspect himself. You smile lovingly, fingers running up and down his arm lightly. 

He watched in the mirror as you watched him, the look on your face striking him in the chest. Was this how you always looked at him? Even having now seen himself, he truly couldn’t fathom why you chose him. He thought he looked so plain compared to you. You were…Merlin you were beautiful. He’d known that of course, his wand giving him a vague idea of your facial structure, but it was nothing compared to this. He could see the slightest change to your expression, the color of your skin, your eyes. It was overwhelming. 

“You have to stop doing this.” 

Scrunching your brow, you shake your head at him, not understanding.

“Every time I think I can’t possibly fall more in love with you, you give me another reason. What am I supposed to do? Nothing I can give you will ever hold a candle to what you’ve given me.” 

Shaking your head, you try to object, but Ominis continues on. “I’d endure every terrible thing in my life, all of it, all over again if it meant you’d be there waiting for me.”

You turn your face away, hiding your watery eyes. He squeezes your hand, a soft smile painting his face, his voice intimate. “Thank you, my love.”

You sat together in silence for a moment longer, just basking in each other's presence. Eventually, he asks you to disenchant the snake and turn it back into a scarf, informing you that he was feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment. You did as he asked, taking care to place the scarf back in the box carefully, saving it for another time. 

He held you close that night, limbs entangled, your face tucked into his neck as he combed his fingers through your hair. Basking in your warmth and replaying your image in his head. 

—————

It’d been a few days since then, the both of you sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a peaceful morning. You gazed out the window at the rising sun, sipping your coffee, lost in thought. Ominis stroked his fingers on the back of your hand idly, an enchanted book in the other hand, seemingly engrossed in the words. In reality, Ominis’s attention was elsewhere, mulling over the events of the days prior. 

He’d used the scarf a handful of times, for short periods as it was still quite overwhelming, preferring to use his wand for most things. 

However, a thought continuously ran through his mind every time he saw you. He loved seeing the little expressions that were often lost to him, treasuring each one, but as time went on his eyes would drift lower, wondering what you’d look like under your clothes. He’d trace the contours of your body, his hands lightly following the path his eyes blazed.

He wanted desperately to peel your layers off, slowly exploring your skin with his lips, wondering what color you’d turn with his mouth on you. 

What he wasn’t thrilled about, was the large snake he’d have to wrap around his shoulders, wearing it the entire time he ravaged you. He turned the thought over in his mind, pondering possible solutions, and the things you’d said about the nature of the spell itself.

“Darling, may I ask you something?”

You turned your head towards him, eyes blinking slowly as you came out of your distracted daze. “Of course, my love, anything.” 

He paused for a moment, mindlessly stroking your hand in thought. “That spell, does it only work on animals?” 

You cocked your head, to the side, considering his inquiry. “I’m…not sure. The spell specifies that a connection is required, but I don’t know if it’s strictly limited to beast companions. Why do you ask?”

Ominis hummed in thought. “Simply curious.”

 

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’ll do some research today while you’re at work.” 

Smiling, he gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles lightly. “Thank you, darling.”

—————

It took a couple more days, and a brief trip to see Natty, but you think you’d done it. Ominis sat in front of you on the couch waiting patiently, a nervous buzz beneath his skin. He closed his eyes in anticipation, until he felt the now familiar feeling of the spell taking effect. 

Opening his eyes, he was startled with the image of himself sitting on the couch. It was interesting watching his own reactions, finding coordination difficult as you sat across from him. 

You watched him flail about for a moment, unsure of how to match his movements to what he was seeing. Standing, you take the seat next to him. “Better?”

He nods, and turns his face to you, disappointed when he only sees himself looking back. This wouldn’t do at all. His brows furrowed, a pout forming on his lips. “I can’t see you.” 

You chuckle and grab his hand, guiding him once more to the large mirror in the hall. Standing in front, you gesture to your reflection. “Problem solved.” 

Ominis slots himself up behind you, winding his arms around your torso as he places his chin on your shoulder, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Problem solved indeed.” 

There was something in his voice that sent a shiver down your back, but you watched him start to place light, lingering kisses on your neck. You stood there, tilting your head to give him better access, to which he groaned in appreciation, his kisses becoming a bit more forceful. 

You continued to watch him in the mirror as he worked his way up your neck, flinching when he bit your ear playfully. He laughed quietly in amusement, enjoying every expression you gave him and moved his hands to your hips, squeezing them. 

“Ominis…” Panting slightly, an aroused flush appeared high on your cheek bones, as a needy ache formed between your legs. Pleased hums reverberated against your back, Ominis’s hand traveling upward, brushing your nipple through your clothing. You jerk against him again, a second brush of his thumb pulling a small whimper from you. 

Ominis groaned as he watched you, feeling giddy and a bit clumsy, as if this were your first time all over again. He knew the contours of your body like the back of his hand, but savored every twitch and whimper as his eyes devoured you hungrily. 

He kept his gaze fixed on your face, head spinning at the furrow of your brow and half lidded eyes, lips parted slightly, breathing heavy. His hand gripped your chest fully, sucking at your neck with fervor, a breathy whine escaping his lips at your lustful expression. He detached himself from you momentarily to speak. “You’re telling me…this is what you look like when I touch you?” 

He ground his hard dick into your ass, hands tugging your hips tight against him. “I haven’t even undressed you yet, and you already look like this?” 

Reaching a hand up, you close your eyes and slam his mouth down onto yours in a passionate kiss. He moans into your mouth, disappointed he could no longer see you, but loving the desperation with which you kissed him. Twisting in his arms, you stand on your toes, winding your arms around his neck to keep him close. 

Ominis wrapped his arms around you, stroking your sides as he pushed his tongue past your lips. Suddenly, he rips himself from you, panting a demand into your mouth. “Upstairs. Now.” 

You waste no time grabbing his hand and clumsily leading him up the stairs, both of you tripping in your excitement. He kicked the door shut behind him, tugging on your hand forcefully, bringing you back into another searing kiss. He had one hand on your face and the other gripping a handful of clothing at your waist, spinning you around to push you against the door. 

His hand traveled from your waist, skimming your thigh before lifting your leg to his hip, giving him better access to grind his lower body into you. Moaning, your hands find his hair, pulling on it while you pant his name between sloppy kisses. 

“Is there a mirror in this room?” The words are growled against your mouth and it takes your brain a moment to process his question. 

“A- A  mirror? I- um, n-no I don’t- I don’t think there is.” It was hard to think with him grinding his hard cock into you, creating such delicious friction. He kissed you again, unable to stay detached for too long. 

“Then make one.”

Your legs wobbled at his demanding tone, unsure if you’d even be able to make it to your wand on the bedside table. “M-My wand…it’s oh Merlin- it’s on the table by Ominis- by my side of the bed.” 

Groaning, he tugged you from the door, lips never leaving yours as his hands caressed you every place they could reach. The both of you fumbled your way to the bed, your hand blindly searching the table for your wand, almost knocking it on the floor. 

Tearing your mouth from his momentarily, you transfigure your bureau into a huge mirror sitting on the far wall. The image of your disheveled appearance, with Ominis wrapped around you, appeared in the reflection. 

Ominis whimpered loudly, rolling his hips into you hard. “Merlin, my love, I can’t- you look so good. Did I- Did I do that to you?.”

Your eyes roll back at the awe in his voice, barely able to stand. His hands tug at your clothes with purpose, cursing under his breath. “Get these wretched things off.” 

Tearing at your clothes, you’re eager to comply, ripping the clothes from your body as he does the same. When you finish, he climbs backwards onto the bed, hands tugging you along with him. He lets his hands explore your body as he kisses you, fingers traveling lower, feeling the wetness between your legs. 

“So wet. All for me. All mine.” 

You loved when he got possessive like this, but today especially, he seemed so wild, like a beast in heat. You’re abruptly turned around, Ominis settling behind you once more. Craning your neck, you go to question him, but the words die in your mouth when you catch a glimpse of your reflection. 

All you see is your naked body on full display, Ominis hovering over your shoulder, staring at your reflection hungrily. Becoming a bit self conscious, you try to cover yourself, but your hands are immediately ripped from your body, his grip tight on your wrists. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

Whimpering you try to tug your hands from him. “Ominis, it’s a bit- it’s embarras-“

“I don’t care. Let me look at you.” Growling his words directly into your ear, he releases your hands, peppering wet kisses on your shoulder. Ominis brings one hand to your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other travels lower, skimming your stomach. Your breathing picks up again as you watch it, anticipation replacing anxiety. 

His hand stops just short of where you want it, stroking the skin possessively. “Don’t even think about closing your eyes. I won’t miss a single second of you coming undone.” 

Before you could respond, his fingers plunged the rest of the way, finally where you wanted them. You automatically close your eyes as you let out a shameless whine, but immediately feel him halt his movements. “What, did I just say?” 

Forcing your eyes open, you train them on your entangled bodies in the mirror. “Good. So good.” 

He continued his movements, fingers driving you higher and higher almost tipping you over the edge, but it wasn’t enough. You start moving your hips against his hand, making sure to rub his leaking cock against your ass. His movements falter and he tucks his face against your shoulder for a moment, breathing frantic and heavy.

“Ominis, my love, I need- Merlin, I need more. Please. More.” Emphasizing your plea with the grinding of your hips, it only takes a moment before Ominis rips his fingers from you, leaning back on his heels a bit to line his aching cock up with your entrance. 

“As you wish, darling.” 

He pushes into you slowly, maintaining enough self restraint to still be gentle, knowing you’d need a moment to adjust to his size. You cried out at the full feeling, a string of whispered encouragements falling from your lips. You struggled to keep your eyes open, but were rewarded with the sight of Ominis, completely wrecked as he shoved himself inside of you. 

Once he was fully seated, he stilled a moment just breathing, his face resting in the crook of your neck. He waited a bit longer than you would have liked, so you attempted to buck against him, trying to coax him into moving. Instead an arm clamped around your front, preventing you from moving, while the other hand came to cover your eyes. 

As you were about to ask, you felt a wetness on your shoulder, startling you. “My love, what’s wro-“ 

“I’m sorry, my darling, I just- I just need a moment.” His voice was quiet, words watery as he kept still, holding you. Tears silently ran down your back, as Ominis released shaky breaths into your skin, arm tightening around you.

“I love you. So much. It’s- Sometimes I get overwhelmed by how much I love you, and this…treasure you’ve given me is- is…my love, I can’t even begin to tell you what it means to me. You deserve so much more than I can give you. I’m sorry, but…I don’t- I don’t think I could live without you anymore.” Ominis sobbed his words into your shoulder, one of your hands clamped on his arm, and the other gripped the back of his head, trying your best to hold him in your current position. 

The tears stopped a moment later, and he lifted his head to place a few loving kisses on your lips, hand still covering your eyes. Sniffing slightly, he nudged your nose with his, whispering an apology. “I’m sorry for ruining the moment, darling.”

Laughing quietly, you card your fingers comfortingly through his hair. “No moment with you is ruined, my love.” 

You wiggle your hips a bit, reminding him of your current situation. “However, I would still like to finish, if you’re up for it.” 

Chuckling in amusement, some of the fire came back to his chest. Kissing your shoulder a few times, he moves to speak directly in your ear. “Always.” 

He starts out slow, grinding his hips into yours, trying to build your desire back up to where it had been. His hand comes off your eyes, and you immediately open them to look at your reflections. Ominis moans as your image floods his mind once more, hips starting to move faster. “So fucking pretty.” 

Shuddering at his praise, needy whines fight their way out of your throat, begging him to go faster. Obliging you, his hips snap forward at a wild pace, his chin hooked over your shoulder to keep you close. “I can’t- my love, I don’t think I can last much longer. I need you to- oh Merlin darling, I need you to cum. Please. I need it so badly.” 

Ominis trails one hand down your front and starts working you in time with his thrusts. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, struggling to keep them open. “No, no, no, my love, please keep your eyes open. I want to -fuck, I want to watch you fall apart. Please, let me. Please?” 

His thrusts get sloppy as he speeds up, fingers stroking you so perfectly. He whispers praises into your ear. Telling you how good you are for him, how much he loves you, how much he needs you, how desperately he wants you to cum. His pleading whispers hurl you over the edge and you force your eyes to stay open for him. 

He sobs at the sight of you, finishing as soon as he feels you convulse around him. Emptying himself inside you, his hips keep twitching and grinding, prolonging both of your pleasure. Lips brush your neck as he speaks praises into your skin, thanking you for staying with him, for loving him. 

The room was silent, save for your combined panting, the two of you trading comforting caresses as you come down. You allowed the spell to fade, Ominis eventually pulling himself from you to find a cloth, not needing his wand to navigate your shared home. Once he returned, he wiped you down with gentle, practiced motions, kissing your skin with an ‘I love you’ every now and then. Once he’d finished, Ominis tossed the cloth into some dark corner of the room, a problem for tomorrow. Laying down, he pulls you into his chest with a pleased sigh, kissing your forehead twice before settling. 

You’re both quiet for a long time, Ominis rubbing lazy, contemplative circles between your shoulder blades. The feel of his fingers and the beat of his heart lulling you into near sleep, only interrupted by his quiet voice. 

“Marry me.” 

Eyes closed, you smile to yourself. So demanding. 

“When?” 

“Tomorrow.”

You huff in amusement, too tired to do much more. “I’ll owl Anne and Sebastian then.”

His lips stretch into a sweet smile against your forehead.

“I already did.” 

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x reader #fanfic #ominis gaunt #romance

[definitelynotbrucewayne]

Minthara Beanre x Reader

TWs/Tags: Dom!Minthara, Sub!reader/Tav, horny telepathy stuff, size difference (if you squint), mild bondage, begging, extremely minor (non-sexual) reference to gore, AFAB reader but gender-neutral terms are used

As requested by @superanonymousthethird

I hope you like it :3

Sent to siege their leaders, you and your cohorts walked through the damp, goblin-infested halls of the former temple. After passing the guard’s inspection, you wandered the unfamiliar building with them in mind— the cleric, the hobgoblin, and the Drow. You entered an open room with a war table. And leaning above it was her, the Drow. She looked up from the map to gaze at you intensely, a scorching-hot carmine stare to make your stomach drop. With a gulp, you could feel her presence suppress your former sense of confidence. As she turns to you, her thoughts mingle with yours. With your security shook, your tadpoles connect telepathically. “Another True Soul?” Her eyebrows pinch together curiously. “You will join me. I’ve been tasked by the Absolute to exterminate these vermin non-believers.” You nod in response, eager to follow her command to your partymembers’ concern. You learn the Drow’s name to be Minthara as she further presses you for information on the whereabouts of the tiefling colony.

“It appears we are organized to commence the onslaught.” She grins venomously. “I thank you for your cooperation, True Soul. We will leave at dawn to fight. But I am afraid I will not be finished with you by then.” With that comment, she leaves you until the morning.

The day begins with you fastening your armor undisturbed. Suddenly, a presence perturbs your thoughts. You don’t need her to be there physically to know that Minthara is communing with you.

“I will see you on the battlefield, yes?” Her shrill, commanding voice rings through your mind. Images of you and her flash in front of your eyes— her body over yours in ascendency, binding your wrists. You gasp from the shocking sight, your face flushed as her devious chuckle plays through your mind via tadpole. “I hope that’s not too ardent for my True Soul.” The cocky comment echoes before she severs the connection.

You return from the battle drenched in blood and viscera. Forgoing the celebration, you clean your body and armor of the remnants of the battle. Occupying your mind unrelentingly was not the dozens of lives you claimed just hours ago, but Nightwarden Minthara. This, she could sense. Restraining herself from teasing you with more projections of yourselves together, she instead approaches you outside the matters of the mind.

“Not concerned with the celebration, True Soul?” Minthara looks down at you as you sit on a stool beside the flowing river. Unlike the others, she adorns her full armor; augmenting her prowess. You feel underdressed in comparison, wearing only your undershirt and pants. She stares at you as she kneels down to your level. “You fought excellently against those blasphemers.” She reaches to unbutton your shirt. You’re paralyzed as she dotes on your shirt, pulling it off of you. She stands back, expecting you to stand up. When you don’t respond as such, she gently grabs your wrists to lead you to the nearby partially collapsed structure. Sandwiching your body between hers and the wall, she aggressively puts her lips on yours. She licks your bottom lip; your jaw drops for her. “So obedient.” She says as her hand holds your chin, angling it so your gaze matches hers.

“Now, will we be executing those trussed-up fantasies you’ve been having? I want you nice and secure when I take you tonight.” You nod vehemently in agreement. “It is decided,” she chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Tonight, you are mine.”

She pushes you down to sit beneath her. Piquing your curiosity, she reaches for something in a concealed pocket. As she takes it out, you can see a collection of leather straps, completely unused. “As you can see, I’ve anticipated this encounter with you. The Absolute operates is mysterious ways, would you say?” She remarks rhetorically as she wraps them around your wrists, binding them together above your head. She stands back, looming above you as if admiring an artwork of her creation. Leaning back down to your level, she angles her arm above your head, holding both of your bound hands in her singular, larger one. She bows down for another kiss, holding your cheek with her free hand. That free hand soon travels down your abdomen and into your trousers. At a single touch of your cunt, you moan into the kiss. “Hmm, sensitive are we?” She whispers sadistically, clearly deriving amusement from your whimpers. She continues by dipping a pair of fingers into your heat. A loud gasp escapes your mouth in response. When was the last time you did this again?

Minthara pushes her fingers in, diving deeper against the inside of you while still sucking at your lips. You struggle against her as she senses the tension building in your core. The tension rises and gets tighter until she suddenly removes herself from you. Deprived, you look up to her with a confused expression.

“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll allow you finish.” She moves down lower, pulling down your pants farther. “But I have to know you want it.”

Your face grows red at her words. She wants you to beg for release. “Please. Please, Minthara,” you begun, unsure of what to say.

“Is that all you have for me, little warrior?” She stares at you, unimpressed, as she teased a thumb against your clit.

“Please, Minthara, I need your mouth, your tongue. I need you. I’m yours,”

“That was just perfect, little one.” She smirks with endearment before yanking the trousers off your legs, leaning down to tongue your clit. You cry out in pleasure again, gripping her hair gently as she goes down on you. She holds your torso in place, pulling you closer when needed. She licks and laps at your cunt, eating you out ravenously. That familiar tension builds and knots in your stomach again. This time, Minthara intends to see your completion the whole way through. Your jaw drops once more and your eyes roll into the back of your skull as she licks a final stripe up your lips.

As you ride out the high, she makes her way up your body to kiss you again. This time, it’s slow and tired, but all-the-same genuine. She unties you before laying down next to you. You hold onto her form tightly, legs still shaking. Not having the heart to move you from her, she takes your weakened body in her arms and you doze off together.

#Minthara X reader #minthara X tav #Bg3 #bg3 X reader #bg3 fanfiction #size difference #Dom!minthara #Dommy mommy #The drussy got me writing fanfic again #baldurs gate 3 #Writing request #Possible sequel??? #BG3 smut #minthara baenre

[foxwmulder]

I just found my list of when I categorized every xf episode (mostly through s7) during quarantine lmao

MONSTER OF THE WEEK CATEGORIES

Cultural

Shapes

Fresh Bones

The Calusari

Teso Dos Bichos

Hell Money

Teliko

El Munda Gira

Theef

Prison or Military

Deep Throat

Space

Sleepless

The List

The Walk

Unrequited

Trevor

Religious

Miracle Man

Revelations

Grotesque

Kaddish

All Souls

Signs and Wonders

Millennium

Cult or Satanists

Gender Bender

Red Museum

Our Town

3

Syzygy

Die Hand Die Verletzt

Sanguinarium

Terms of Endearment

Nothing Lasts Forever

Lone Gunmen- or CSM-Centric

Musings of a CSM

Unusual Suspects

Three of a Kind

First Person Shooter

This

Skinner-Centric

Avatar

Zero Sum

SR 819

Brand X

Hollywood AD

Kitten

Arthur Dales’s Tales

Travelers

The Unnatural

Agua Mala

Scully Side Quest

Irresistible / Orison

Chinga

Never Again

Milagro

En Ami

all things

Home Again

Ghouli

Mulder, They Already Destroyed the Evidence!

Ice

Firewalker

Dod Kalm

F. Emasculata

Wetwired

The Pine Bluff Variant

Drive

Wait, It’s Actually Aliens?

Pilot

Jose Chung

Control the Elements

Fire

DPO

Soft Light

Schizogeny

Rush

The Rain King

Medical Anomalies

Young at Heart

Eve

Home

Small Potatoes

Postmodern Prometheus

Founder’s Mutation

Guys Who Need to Eat Weird Stuff

Squeeze / Tooms

2Shy

Pusher / Kitsunegari

Leonard Betts

Hungry

Switch Lives or Linked Brains

Lazarus

Roland

Oubliette

Paper Hearts

Mind’s Eye

Dreamland I and II

Fight Club

Plus One

Time Travel or Warp

Synchrony

Monday

Lost Art of the Forehead Sweat

Ghosts or Past Lives

Shadows

Born Again

Excelsis Dei

Elegy

Aubrey

The Field Where I Died

Triangle

How the Ghosts Stole Christmas

AI Is Out To Get Us

Blood

Ghost in the Machine

Kill Switch

Rm9sbG93ZXJs

Half Man, Half Monster

The Host

Jersey Devil

Humbug

Detour

Bad Blood

Folie a Duex

Chimera

Mulder and Scully Meet the Weremonster

All Monster, No Man

Darkness Falls

Fearful Symmetry

Quagmire

War of the Coprophages

Alpha

Arcadia

Field Trip

X-Cops

Magic, Psychic, or Lucky

Beyond the Sea

Clyde Bruckman

Unruhe

Tithonus

The Amazing Maleeni

Je Souaite

The Goldberg Variation

MYTHOLOGY CATEGORIES

They’re Closing The X-Files!

The Erlenmeyer Flask / Little Green Men

The End / The Beginning

Fight the Future

Uh…Samantha?

Colony / End Game

Talitha Cumi / Herrenvolk

Sein Und Zeit / Closure

I’m Literally On Board Already, Scully

Fallen Angel

EBE

Nisei / 731

Piper Maru / Apocrypha

Tempus Fugit / Max

Tunguska / Terma

Agent Mulder Is Dead! Or Is He?

Anasazi / The Blessing Way / Paper Clip

Redux I and II

This Is Not Happening / Dead Alive

Mulder…You Good?

Demons / Gethsemane

Biogenesis / The Sixth Extinction

The Syndicate Hates Scully

Duane Barry / Ascension / One Breath

Memento Mori

Christmas Carol / Emily

Patient X / The Red and the Black

Why Was This Made

I Want to Believe

Discarded Categories

Creepy White Guy Predator

This Is a Small Town, We Don’t Lock Our Doors

A Nice Trip to the Forest

#the x files #I remember pouring all my energy into this lol #categories

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: great, unique and creative worldbuilding in sci-fi

A note: most of the books on this list are ones I cherish very highly (some are on my all time favorites list!). A few had a lower overall rating for me personally but still stellar worldbuilding and are of what I'd consider good objective quality even if I subjectively didn’t super enjoy them.

For details on the books, continue under the readmore!

Other book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding

Mermaid books

Dark sapphic romances

Vampire books

Feed (Newsflesh series) by Mira Grant

Zombies and news bloggers and presidential elections, oh my! A look at the world post-post zombie apocalypse, when society has gotten back to its feet but the zombie virus is still very much active. Humanity as a whole has been forced to adapt to the ever-present threat. Largely political, character and worldbuilding focused. There is some zombie action, but it’s far from the central focus.

Shades of Grey (Shades of Grey series) by Jasper Fforde

Walking the very thin line of giving you just enough information to follow the plot and grasp the overall idea of the world, but not enough to create info dumps or hand you answers not yet earned, Shades of Grey presents a world in black and white, where your perception of color determines your place in society. Is it fantasy? Scifi? Post apocalypse? Who knows! I sure don’t! Occasionally it hands you a tidbit of information that seems like a remnant of our world and you feel like you're onto something, but then some pages later said tidbit is turned on its head and you're back to square one. It’s delightful.

This Alien Shore (Alien Shores series) by C.S. Friedman

Space opera in which humanity found a way to faster than light travel and began establishing colonies all over the galaxy, only to belatedly realize the method of FTL caused irreversible mutations and disabilities and leaving their nascent colonies to die. Much later, many of the colonies have survived and thrived, and one has found a new way of FTL travel, allowing an interconnected space society to grow. However, Earth is on the hunt for their method and is prepared to do anything to steal it. Aside from cool worldbuilding, This Alien Shore also features some interesting commentary on disability and accommodation. And there are extra-dimensional space dragons!

Ninefox Gambit (Machineries of Empire trilogy) by Yoon Ha Lee

Military space opera where belief and culture shape the laws of reality, causing all kinds of atrocities as empires do everything in their power to force as many people as possible to conform to their way of life to strengthen their technology and weapons. It’s also very queer, with gay, lesbian and trans major characters, albeit little to no romance.

Ancillary Justice (Imperial Radch series) by Ann Leckie

Another space opera, in which sentient spaceships can walk the ground in stolen human bodies, so called ancillaries. One of these ancillaries, the sole survivor after the complete destruction of her ship and crew, is one the hunt for revenge. This series also does very cool things with gender!

The Quantum Thief (Jean le Flambeur series) by Hannu Rajaniemi

Place this one in the category of 'accept that you're gonna be confused as hell and just let the world wash over you'. The singularity has come and gone and humans can now easily upload, download and copy themselves into new bodies, not all of them human and not always willingly. Consciousnesses and time has become something close to currency. Follows a murder mystery on Mars.

Stray (Touchstone trilogy) by Andrea K. Höst

Young Adult. Cassandra accidentally walks through a wormhole and ends up on another planet, where she tries to survive in the abandoned ruins of a long since gone civilization. When rescue finally arrives, she soon finds her troubles are far from over as she gets embroiled in a war between her rescuers and monstrous creatures from dreamlike other dimensions. Mixes scifi elements such as space travel, vr and nanomachinery with fantasy tropes such as psychic powers, monsters, and interdimensional portals.

The Peacekeeper (The Good Lands series) by B.L. Blanchard

Alternate history in which Europe never colonized the Americas. Follow Ojibwe detective Chibenashi as he travels from his small home village to a city of living skyscrapers to solve a murder. While I found the mystery somewhat lacking, the worldbuilding and look at a contemporary North America never touched by European colonization is absolutely aces.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

Leech by Hiron Ennes

I mean, this is probably scifi? Like Shades of Grey it hands you only just enough information to get by, and whether its historical fantasy, an alternate timeline, or futuristic post apocalypse is hard to determine. A sentient hive mind have taken over the entire medical profession to ensure the health of their host species. One of their doctors is sent off to an isolated location where they’re cut off from the rest of the hive mind, only to realize they’re faced with a rivaling parasitic entity.

Children of Time (Children of Time series) by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Millenia and generation spanning scifi. After the collapse of an empire, a planet once part of a project to uplift other species to sentience is left to develop on its own, resulting not in the intelligent monkeys once intended but in sentient giant spiders. Millenia later, what remains of humanity arrives looking for a new home.

Dreamsnake by Vonda N. McIntyre

A classic following a healer as she travels a post apocalyptic Earth with an alien dreamsnake to help people. When her snake dies, she must go on a journey to find a new one. The worldbuilding feels fairly vague, but not in an annoying way but in one that makes the world feel vast and mysterious and lived in. Just like in the real world you won’t get all the answers, but you do get the feeling of the world as a whole being much larger than the character and her quest.

The Outside (The Outside trilogy) by Ada Hoffman

AKA the book the put me in an existenial crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired scifi where reality is warped and artifical gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by post-human cybernetic 'angels' to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart.

The Three-Body Problem (The Three-Body Problem series) Cixin Liu

While I felt the characters could’ve been better developed, this is undeniably a well-written novel featuring an alien race and culture developed on a planet vastly different from ours. Firmly in the realm of hard scifi, this is a realistic, fascinating and slightly terrifying look at how first contact may look.

Space Opera by Catherynne M. Valente

Eurovision in space! If you lose, humanity is doomed! Good luck! The sentient species of the galaxy have chosen to face each other not in war but in a musical contest, and now humanity is invited to partake. The problem? If we lose, our species as a whole will be exterminated. While I found this book as a whole slightly gimmicky, it’s a fun and flashy experience with some wild and creative alien species.

Escaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus series) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one.

The Stars are Legion by Kameron Hurley

More fucked up biological spaceships, this time all women edition! It’s weird, it's gross, there’s So Much Viscera, it has biotech but in the most horrific way imaginable. Had I to categorize it I would call it grimdark military sf. It’s an experience but not necessarily a pleasant one. Features a mass of slowly dying world-ships, and the conflicts arising between them as they struggle to survive. It’s also sapphic but not what I'd call romantic.

Isle of Broken Years by Jane Fletcher

Young spanish noblewoman Catalina thinks she’s done for when the ship she’s traveling on is attacked by pirates and she’s captured. Things gets worse when the entire crew is stranded on an inhospitable island where time works strangely, dangerous monsters terrorize the woods and something alien stops them from leaving. Strong Lost vibes. Lesbian romance. Admittedly quite indulgent but very fun and creative.

Vagabonds by Hao Jingfang

Slow and long and literary, Vagabonds presents a world a hundred years post a war of independence between Earth and Mars, after which two vastly different societies have grown. A close look at the impossibility of a utopia and how different circumstances allow for different cultures to grow, and how the two aren’t always compatible while neither is necessarily better or worse than the other.

Mortal Engines (Mortal Engines quartet) by Philip Reeve

Young Adult. On a barely survivable Earth humanity has taken to living on great wandering cities, hunting each other across the plains for resources. Tom lives in London, but when he intervenes to stop a murder, he falls off the city alongside a strange and hostile girl on the hunt for revenge. Aside from excellent worldbuilding this also features one of my most favorit female characters ever in Hester Shaw. If you’ve seen the movie, forget about it and read the book instead.

Too Like the Lightning (Terra Ignota series) by Ada Palmer

Centuries in the future, humanity has deliberatly engineered society to be as utopian as possible, politically, socially, sexually, religiously. Written in an enlightenment style and featuring questions of human nature and whether it’s possible to change it, and what price we're prepared to pay for peace, this book is simultaneously very heavy and very funny, and written in a very unique style. While still human, the society presented often feels starkly alien.

A Memory Called Empire (Teixcalaan duology) by Arkady Martine

Mahit, ambassador of a small station nation, arrives at the heart of the Teixcalaanli Empire, ready to battle for the continued independence of her people. In her head she carries part of the personality of her predecessor, there to guide her. A look at imperialism and the conflicting feelings of hate, fear and even admiration one can have towards empire. Also features a sapphic romance!

Gideon the Ninth (The Locked Tomb series) by Tamsyn Muir

I mean, you're on tumblr, you probably already know about this one. Trust me when I say it's exactly as good as people claim. There are indeed lesbian necromancers is space (quite a lot of them, actually), but also incredible worldbuilding that keeps growing with every new installment, interesting political commentary, morally complex characters with fucked up dynamics, and well-thought out plot that keeps you guessing until the last.

Railhead (Railhead trilogy) by Philip Reeve

Young Adult. Listen, Philip Reeve is so good at absolutely wild worldbuilding, I nearly included a third series of his on this list (hey go look up Larklight okay!). In a future where humanity travel between the stars using not spaceships but a portal-connected system of sentient trains, a young thief and street urchin is hired to steal something off of the Emperor's train.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon

More AI gods!

A Big Ship at the Edge of the Universe by Alex White

Magic in space!

The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

Angels in space!

#next post will be sapphic recs! #I'm thinking maybe one rec post a week? we'll see #nella talks books #book recs

[murfpersonalblog]

The Vampire Lestat & Sir Percy Blakeney: Most Genius & Manly of Himbos

I want to discuss the "babygirl" discourse around Lestat's yaasification, and notions that he's the "woman/wife/mother" in Loustat's household.

YES, Sam Reid has been serving nothing but Charisma Uniqueness Nerve and Talent, but I think his play on gender norms has confused people into thinking he's playing into Lestat's femininity, when actually, I think Sam's playing up Lestat's masculinity instead.

But it's a VERY particular type of masculinity, that clashes with modern norms and tastes and perceptions/assumptions.

And it only recently struck me that the vampire Lestat AND Sir Percy Blakeney (AKA the Scarlet Pimpernel) have A LOT in common: They're both foppish prissy buffoons who are tougher than they look and seem a LOT dumber than they actually are--and it's INTENTIONAL.

Because Lestat and Sir Percy Blakeney lived during the French Revolution. The Rococo hellscape of extravagant hedonistic opulence, that caused the fall of the monarchy & rise of the nouveau riche & middle classes. They came at the Revolution from opposite sides--Lestat de Lioncourt as a penniless marquis' son forced to hunt for his own food or starve, and Sir Percy Blakeney as an English elite sympathizer & spy for the French monarchy. That environment heavily colored both of their outlooks on life and interactions with others.

Aesthetics were everything--don't get Lestat started on the Savage Garden!--and a man's whole reputation and life could be ruined by his public image alone. Outdated clothes at court!? Scandalous!

Society's fashions & tastes change. The wigs, high heels, lace, makeup, limp wrists, prancing walks, small waists, shapely calves--all the Old World beauty standards now associated with women actually used to be applied to men. Manly men!

As overdone and effeminate as they might seem to modern audiences, in the 1700s, that kind of man was considered HOT--the very pinnacle of fashion, taste and breeding.

Ladies wanted to be with them, and men wanted to BE them--the nouveau riche, social climbers, middle class, etc--this was the model.

How society's double standards affect the class/race/gender dynamics between Loustat are absolutely feral. Despite how silly Lestat looked in his clothes, this fish out of water with his weird foreign talk and obnoxious behavior, Lestat EASILY "emasculated" Louis, the established & respected tough local pimp (and we would see over & over how effortlessly he could one-up Louis, especially in Ep5 when he came out of that fight without a scratch).

EFF his snatched waist, sassy hands, and long hair--this MAN was on DEMON TIME. Sam said that AMC put Lestat in a whole Matador-inspired villain outfit. Now, I don't know anything about Spanish bullslaying, but one cursory search on Jstor had all kinds of interesting things to say:

Douglass, Carrie B. “‘toro Muerto, Vaca Es’: An Interpretation of the Spanish Bullfight.” American Ethnologist 11, no. 2 (1984): 242–58. http://www.jstor.org/stable/643849.

And Louis definitely saw red and was charging at him like a bull--and Lestat nearly killed him for it.

So y'all tell me who the MAN is in this relationship. 👀 Lestat didn't become his MOTHER, he became HIS FATHER. (Louis is the one who's similar to Gabrielle!)

Lestat's money & class is telling, too. But what's ironic is that although Lestat appears Old Money to everyone (as his inheritance from Magnus was VERY old, and bottomless), he's actually nouveau riche--LOUIS was the silver spoon Old Money elite, with the DPDL estate (inherited from his white ancestors' French colonial slavery & plantations in NOLA). But Lestat was called the Wolf Killer, cuz he hunted wolves & saved his broke family from starving (and his village from wolf attacks).

Lestat was SO cocky after his hunt, prancing around town in his wolf furs like little Lord Fauntleroy, PRINCE LESTAT, like the kind of aristocrat he wished he was, the kind his birthright would've afforded him, if only his broke AF FATHER could've afforded it (and Prince Lestat eventually renovated his father's Chateau for the vampire court). His beautiful braggadocio/machismo was what attracted the vampire Magnus to Lestat, and made him a worthy candidate for immortality. Likewise, Lestat's brazen & BALLSY antics were what attracted Akasha to Lestat in QotD, too.

"Lestat, if all the world were destroyed, I would not destroy you," [Akasha] said. "Your limitations are as radiant as your virtues for reasons I don't understand myself. But more truly perhaps, I love you because you are so perfectly what is wrong with all things male. Aggressive, full of hate and recklessness, and endlessly eloquent excuses for violence-you are the essence of masculinity; and there is a gorgeous quality to such purity. But only because it can now be controlled." "By you." "Yes, my darling. This is what I was born for. This is why I am here. And it does not matter if no one ratifies my purpose. I shall make it so. Right now the world burns with masculine fire; it is a conflagration. But when that is corrected, your fire shall burn ever more brightly-as a torch burns."

For Akasha (and Anne Rice lbr), Lestat represented the epitome--the essence--of (toxic) MASCULINITY. The same vain, supercilious, foppish dandy obsessed with his hair and nails and purple sunglasses, always going on and on about James Dean & Marlon Brando, etc etc--is still a MAN.

He's the silliest creature ever, and he REVELS in it, because he knows good and dang well that he's the most dangerous one in the room. Whatever he wanted, he took, and fought for, controlled & dominated, come hell or high water.

Sure, he burns brightly, with effervescent light; but he's also the thing that goes bump in the night, lurking in the shadows, hiding his TRUE nature, his real face.

And we see that darkness, that ugly mean streak, as soon as Lestat and Percy feel they've been betrayed & feel their most vulnerable.

On a DIME, this man can go from being a silly, vapid clown, to a cold and calculated evil genius, playing 4D chess with the best of them. And the best trick is that because Lestat & Percy are both the protagonists/heroes of their stories, we'll clap and cheer and hope that they triumph, all while making a thousand excuses for their red flags--the matador wins again!

But what are Lestat & Percy REALLY fighting for & protecting? The rights of vampires to be effing serial killers? The rights of the parasitic monarchy/rich to leech off the poor? Don't let the pretty smiles & fun personalities fool you--they're inherently KILLERS--apex predators, hunters, and aggressively male--gay or straight, butch or femme, he wants to emasculate, dominate, penetrate, and humiliate.

The Scarlet Pimpernel is still an assassin, and Lestat is still a vampire. The patriarchal layers run deep, but their supposed "girliness" is just on the surface; it's due to the time period they both grew up in, and the aesthetic ideals of the elite during the 1700s--a time when manly men were A LOT more effeminate than what we'd expect today. But underneath that cultured veneer, they're still dangerous animals. The whole point of gothic literature Anne Rice's book emulated is that it confronts that duality head on, to consider the underlying nature of MAN's beast within. That's what makes Lestat so interesting--because you know there's sooo much more going on.

#the vampire lestat #the scarlet pimpernel #gender inequality #loustat #fashion history #operation matador #iwtv tvc metas

[el-yon]

[ personal sharing time ]

beyond all the character/narrative reasons for Ichigo to live a full life, I have a very personal/political/professional (cannot dissociate the three) appreciation for the fact that he does not join the Gotei - nor any organization, for that matter.

I know Kubo draws mainly from Buddhism, and I don’t think he’s worried about political organizations at all, since his message is about self-realization. However, as he takes us through Ichigo’s journey, he does take us through different political arrangements, meaning, organizations of violence: oligarchic and militaristic regimes, colonialism/imperialism, theocratic and totalitarian ideologies, you name it. For instance, I think Kubo said somewhere he chose the spanish/latin motif to Hueco Mundo and the Arrankar/Hollowfication stuff because he thought it sounded sensuous, which makes sense with the uh... subtext of it all, BUT, the predatory viciousness of Hueco Mundo is such a strong colonization subtext too!. Also, expropriating a population/territory (Karakura) to literally fabricate and access sovereignty (the Royal Key)... wow. Then you know, don’t even need to get into Ginjo literally stealing powers, or everything about the Wandenreich.

But the most important “organization of violence” here is not the one that imposes one’s will onto another, but the individual one that informs human agency and autonomy. Ichigo happens to have all the available types of power in his hands, he has a lot of means to inflict violence, but he gets to learn how to use them to be his own person.

No gods, no hierarchies, no masters but himself.

When we’re kids, we’re vulnerable. Things happen to us, and we are powerless. Then, as we grow up, we gain physicial strenght, we get the chance to walk on our own, to actually do things, to be active - we get access to power, including, to do things to others. When we start Bleach, Ichigo gets this immediate power boost in his life and we see him fighting the world: he chops off Sora’s hand, he chops off the serial killer hollow and he is angry, he’s brutal, he’s violent - as we see even more clearly in the whole hollowfication journey. A journey that, beautifully, comes to its closure when he finally learns the truth about himself, stops trying to supress it, and learns how to use it, how to regulate it, and once he relies on Orihime. Which brings me to the next part.

Growing up right beside him, we have the development of three other young people, each one relating to particular aspect of his own powers, dealing with violence too: Chad is a window to racial violence and learns how to fight back on his terms, Orihime is a window to gender violence and learns how to fight back on her terms, Uryu is a window to genocide and learns how to fight back on his terms. And they are also helping and being helped by Renji and Rukia, two people who have been hurt by class opression and nobility dynamics, who also found their own way to make it work - the “we gripped each other’s hand instead of the blade” is very important to lil old me.

In a world that is terrible, but also full of possibilities, Ichigo and Karakura are (to me, this is a personal take) an amazing ode to human agency that is informed by self-improvement, desire to help, to care and protect more than any disciplinary power out there, and I love that for them.

#bleach appreciation #ichigo kurosaki #six hearts beat as one #karakura gang #this is also my way of saying why i firmly believe karakura gang are a married poly #when they die then we'll see what happens (rukongai revolution or hell uprising? I'll be there for it)

[hellodolleyes]

-Fey-

You know, waking up in the middle of nowhere is already incredibly concerning.. But walking up to a bunch of tiny people crawling on you is just down right mind boggling.

The Bensu

Some information has been retconned from the previous post on Bensu as I've worked on them more.

The Bensu are a small humanoid race, average around 4-5 inches in height. They possess a range of animalistic features, with short velvety peach fuzz covering their small bodies in shades of lavender, leaning towards purple, blue, or pink. Their hair grows longer on certain parts, like their heads, tails, arms, and chests. Normally Bensu will have two pattern types, most commonly they will be covered in white speckles, and a secondary less seen pattern will be white stripes, or the stripes will take on their darker hair colors. 

Bensu have digitigrade legs with clawed and padded feet, allowing them to climb vertical surfaces effortlessly. Their hands are similar, with retractable claws, aiding in their climbing abilities. Thanks to their springy legs, they can move quickly and jump impressively high relative to their size. They possess a flexible and agile body, often compared to squirrels due to their ability to take on impossibly high falls with relatively no damage (with exceptions to landing on hard surfaces).

On their backs, below the neck, the Bensu have a group of black striped quills controlled by specialized muscles. Additionally, they have six more quills, known as blood quills or pin feathers, which can be moved independently. These quills serve as a defense mechanism, communication feature, and aid in balance while dashing through trees. Air passing through the quills creates a distinct whistle noise.

In combination with their feathers, Bensu use shrill clicks, whistles, and chirps, along with body language, as their primary means of communication. Most clans or colonies will use variations of these in their language.

The most prominent feature of a Bensu is the single horn that grows out from their foreheads, just above the brow, although there is the rare occasion that a Bensu won’t ever grow one. The Bensu’s horn is linked to a sort of telekinetic ability that they use in many tasks, be it carrying something while climbing and keeping their hands free to move, or using it to carry and keep track of children, while farmers or foragers in clans might use it to carry crops and herbs; same goes for fighters or scouts carrying weapons for defense or offense. They can also use their telekinetic signatures to identify each other, as well as slow the descent of a fall if their ability is strong enough (the more skilled with this ability may even use it to lessen their own gravity to gain more distance in jumps).

The size and shape of the horn determines the strength of their telekinetic ability, with larger and forked horns indicating greater power.

A strong well trained telekinetic ability can be enough to carry another full grown Bensu or other heavier objects, but on average the heaviest thing an untrained telekinesis could carry would probably be a pebble the size of their own head.

On another topic, concerning the physical differences between both genders of this race, females and males alike don’t have many differences. The only outward difference would be in the women, this being tufts that grow out from the tips of their ears, but aside from this if a female Bensu trims her tufts there would be no outward difference aside from sex organs or what the Bensu might consider feminine clothing or adornments. And because Bensu don’t have breasts due to not being breast feeding mammals, that is an even more difficult distinction to make.

And while on the topic of gender, the Bensu struggle with a high gender ratio imbalance. Males outnumbering females 10 to 1. This shows strongly in their culture, but surprisingly not in the ways one might think. That is a topic deserving of its own post entirely.

The Bensu are a shy race of people, their societies are often hidden from sight. They are in constant danger either from magic hungry goblins, alchemists looking to use them as an essence source, or predatory animals in general. Its a tough world for a race so small.

Despite their adversities they actually do really well for themselves, as they've cultivated societies all over Adra.

#g/t #g/t related #tiny #g/t sfw #giant tiny #g/t fiction #art #ocs #g/t ocs #digital art #original art #bensu #world building #fantasy race #fantasy

[theworldvsyoshiko]

It's day 240, or 4 years since Ortiz landed, so time for a bit of a status report.

The place is finally a proper settlement now, with a rec room, a 2-sunlamp greenhouse, a hospital, a gene lab, and a full defensive wall.

That thing where they didn't have a real researcher for the first 2.5 years really hurt, though. They were able to build + craft, so they generated plenty of wealth... but they didn't have tech. So now they're getting raids of 15 guys with decent guns, and they have 3-4 people on the frontlines, with normal-quality midgame weapons that they had to buy, and two pieces of armor between them. Between Ortiz and Debby, the two mechanitors, they have a Tunneler and a Scyther, which is a nice start, but not going to defeat any swarms. The marsh killbox is nice, but the kids frankly don't have enough firepower for it to make as big of an impact as it should. If it's three of them in cover vs. 15 enemies who aren't in cover in a ranged fight, neither side is going to enjoy the experience.

Which is to say that a lot of raids are borderline existential threats right now. Yoder is scrambling to learn how to make guns and armor to even things up a bit. Yumi should help too.

And speaking of them...

My goal of making this a really close-knit group has mostly come through. There are only a handful of exceptions.

Ortiz doesn't like Yoder, because she's a misandrist who's married, and he's a man who keeps trying to hit on her anyway. If he'd just stop hitting on her, they'd probably manage to overcome the gender thing.

Debby is the real wild card here. She's mutually attracted to both Yoder and Yumi, and her compatibility with each one is over 2. She's going to end up in a relationship with one of them. My money's currently on Yumi. Yoder tried to convert her a while back and annoyed her into starting a fistfight, so Debby is still nursing a grudge. Yumi is actually Debby's closest friend already... because Debby keeps hitting on Ortiz and Edith and getting turned down, so she's holding a grudge against them, too. You've got some real chips on your shoulder, girl.

Yumi is new enough that she isn't close with anyone but Debby, but she likes everybody but Yoder well enough.

Dalila Ortiz

Ortiz is up to 17 shooting, so she's the colony's main combatant now. Psylink level 3 is pretty great too, but she doesn't have the psycasts to really make good use of that, or the time to meditate much anyway. Other than that, though, she's mediocre-to-decent at everything else. Being competent at most things is still pretty nice, though. Most notably, she's the group's second-best doctor.

Edith Ortiz (née Finch)

Edith's the group's main builder, cook, and gardener, and the secondary researcher (she actually isn't bad at it now.) If she were capable of fighting, she'd be amazing. If she were good at medical stuff, she'd still be great for patching everybody up after fights. As it is, she's just pretty great. There's nothing that she does that somebody else can't do almost as well or better, but since everybody else can fight and often needs to spend entire days doing so, she's the one keeping things running pretty commonly.

Debby Stewart

The group's best crafter, second-best shooter, second-best construction person, and third-best researcher. And the backup mechanitor. Her effectiveness at all of this is hampered a bit by the fact that her spine got nearly ripped in half by a bullet in one of her first fights with the group, and she never really recovered. She walks slooooow. Sometimes she takes so long to reach a fight that it's over by the time she gets there. Once the group has the tech for it, a bionic spine for her is one of the top priorities.

Tycho Yoder

Again, those traits: damn. As predicted, he picked up Shooting pretty well even without any passion in it. He spends 80% of his time researching, but he's also the group's main miner, animal handler, doctor, and artist. The animal handling thing would be a bigger deal in a climate where there were more animals around and keeping animals alive wasn't a pain. It gets so cold that most animals will die of hypothermia outdoors, and grazing isn't an option for most of the year, so animals haven't really been a big part of the group's strategy.

Janine "Yumi" Nobuka

Yumi's still a new arrival, but she'll be helping out with mining and construction, and... I mean, she's here to shoot stuff, mostly. Which is fine, because there's a lot of stuff that needs shot. But there's only so much to say about it right now.

#the world vs. ortiz

[ethereance]

Screw it. *Genderfluids your Lance* Post s8. Fix it.

Lance thought his Altean markings were cosmetic. Nothing more. Nothing less. A gift from Allura, leaving a piece of her with him, to look back and remember with fondness her company. As if he could ever forget a girl as incredible as her.

It’s not until much later he realises it’s something more. That maybe Allura gave a portion more than he expected. He stares, face to face with his mirror. Something off. Something strange. Something that grabs his attention before he really knows what he’s looking at.

His ears slowly shift back to human. But they were there long enough. He saw the Altean ears.

“Incredible,” Coran says when Lance broaches this to him, and after multiple attempts at trying at failing at repeating what happened in the mirror. At last he succeeds. “You’re shifting just like an Altean.”

“I’m not turning Altean, am I?” he panics. He’s pretty attached to being a human and all.

“Haha! Don’t be ridiculous number three, you can’t just ‘turn Altean.’ Good one! Turn Altean, he says. That’s one to remember for an open mike.” Then Coran takes one look at his genuine distress and sobers. “Rest assured, my boy, you’re one hundred percent earthling, ears and all. Allura wouldn’t change you so completely when she loved you the way you are. It just seems she passed our chameleon-like abilities over to you. I can’t say I’ve ever heard anything like this ever documented before, but Allura…”

“Has a way of accomplishing the possible,” Lance offers when Coran’s eyes grow distant, bittersweet.

“Yes,” agrees Coran. Something proud, something sombre, “That she did.”

***

Lance practices often, following Coran’s guidance. Even Romelle drops by at Coran’s request, eager to show someone the ropes.

“In the colony, we had little need to shift as our ancestors had. Our only home had been there, tucked away in a corner of the universe. We understood little of the outside world except what Lotor brought us. Even so, it was an ability we never lost. When you have mastered it, it’s like walking. It becomes natural. To some more than others,” she says, a surprisingly patient teacher. He wonders where this side of her was when she was trying to get him to teach her to pilot. “You may be the ‘others’! But that okay. My… my brother Bandor was the same.”

For such a bright supernova of a person, it is easy to forget that, like Coran, Romelle has been touched by grief. And grief again.

“You strike me as an adaptable person, pointy chin. Like rivers and oceans, it has made you you. I have full confidence in your abilities. And if Allura were here.” She smiles, and it is pain, but beauty. A flower unfurling in the wake of a storm. “I know she would say the same.”

***

He finds himself slipping into other forms like a glove. It becomes easier, a swifter motion just as Romelle had said.

It’s freeing, in a way. To walk as something so slightly adjacent to him. A Lance of another life. Altean, balmeran, olkari, puigian, anything he can think of.

He loves being Plaxum’s species the most. A mer. Beneath the waves, it feels like coming home. He’s a missile underwater, swimming loops around coral.

Dreams really do come true.

***

There’s something about transforming that pulls him that much closer to Allura. Her quintessence sings to him, and his skin dances. He feels alive as he hasn’t in a long time.

Happier maybe. Or that much closer to it.

He wishes he could take a photo of Keith the second he catches sight of Lance, a good extra foot on him, and purple as a plum.

“So this is a… thing,” says Keith eventually. And what an observation that is. Lance explains.

“Don’t let Hunk catch you like this,” is Keith’s response, a hint of tired amusement, “He’ll call you Galra Lance and never stop.”

***

It starts with him shifting into an unilu. He needs the extra hands. Lance doesn’t realise the gender he’d chosen until Coran points it out offhandedly. Now, Lance knows that not every species is going to be quite so clear cut as biologically male or female. Some have more some have less. Some won’t even know what the word gender means. He has experienced a taste of the universe. He knows how vast and diverse it is. When shapeshifting into a species like that, it makes sense his gender isn’t something he’d retain.

Female. He’d made himself into a female unilu. It was a matter of size and facial shape. Nothing too strange, no stranger than his body shifting into a skin it wasn’t born into, but noticeable enough.

And isn’t that something.

***

It’s out of curiosity he tries the same as a human. Curiosity and nothing more. Just because he can. Really. Honest.

Lance half expects his girl!sona would just be a carbon copy of Rachel with the added blue scales residing beneath his eyes. But that isn’t who he sees in the mirror.

He sees. Well, he sees himself.

Herself.

She looks, feels, kind of pretty. Which makes sense. She’s Lance. Of course she looks great. Goes without saying.

Lance’s lip twitches.

***

So. So maybe he throws on the form again. And again. And again. Maybe a little more than he does with any alien species. But can you blame him? He’s just found out he has a free trial at being a girl so quiznack if he isn’t going to try it out.

Her hair is long. Her hair is short. She pulls off both looks well, she thinks. Being a girl is kind of awesome, actually.

It’s not always the case. Sometimes it just isn’t right. But others? Sometimes he finds himself slipping into her without realising it. It’s just what feels right to her in the moment.

There’s something nice about strangers using ‘she’ and ‘her’ and they don’t know. They don’t know. Something in her bubbles, giddy, they don’t know.

But Lance’s family do. Pidge does.

They look at Lance—now once again a boy—and hum, thoughtful, considering.

“Are you are girl?” they ask. Pidge does not beat around the bush. It throws Lance through enough loops to put him in a spiral.

“No”, says Lance. But for some reason that doesn’t sound quite right. “I mean. I’m not always. But—”

“You are sometimes?”

“I guess. But it’s just shapeshifting. I’m not actually—” Lance trails off, lost. “Am I?”

“Do you want to be?” Pidge asks, and huh. Does he want to be? Is it really that simple? He’s always seen himself as a guy, and had no problems with that. But.

Well.

“… Maybe. Maybe sometimes.”

Pidge grins, wild and victorious. “Welcome to the club.”

(Something in his chest feels lighter. There’s a cavern, because it has made its mark and stayed. That has not changed. But this is this.

How wonderful it is to find the answers to secrets within oneself. He could have lived his whole life without knowing, a part locked away without him ever knowing there was a lock. But now, how could he?

It’s like he’s no longer holding in a breath.)

***

Pidge later tells him it’s criminally unfair he can change his body on a whim. They are fine with she, they are, but they are them. Sometimes she is just too much she to match their they.

Lance wonders how much Allura managed to see him. He remembers how close they became, how she became someone he’d call a best friend, then a lover. How she perceived him better than most throughout it all. Looked to him and saw greatness where he, despite wanting to be so much more, only saw failure. He wishes he knew what she saw when she looked at him. The person he was. Is. Lance.

If she knew what these markings have done for him. Did she know?

She can’t have done. Lance didn’t even know.

(But if she had—

It’s not like Lance can ask.)

***

Allura comes back.

She descends like a shooting star, the blinding light of an angel’s fall. She falls home and it is at home she stays. Days are bliss. A dream Lance dare not wake from.

“You’re not dreaming,” she tells him, soft, and kind, but aching, “I’m here. I won’t leave again. My duty to revive the universe is fulfilled. I’m here to live. And I chose to live with you.”

He kisses the words from her lips, blissfully sweet. She more than happily complies.

“I never meant to hurt you this much.”

“You’re here now,” Lance says, and it sounds so beautiful spoken out loud like this. How long he’s dreamed for such a moment. “That’s all that matters. We can move forwards together.”

This is their start.

***

It takes a while. But she tells Allura.

Allura kisses her senselessly. Lance loves it.

“Though I can’t take credit for this being my intention, I’m glad you learned more of yourself.” Allura’s fondness is an ocean she could drown in. “I love the person you are.”

“Yeah?”

Allura’s hand trails Lance’s ear. “Yes. Very much so. It’s an added bonus that I managed fix your ears. You have tried an Altean form, right?”

Lance jolts. “Allura!” she protests, a little put out. “What’s wrong with my ears?”

“Nothing,“ she says, warm and amused. “Nothing at all. I find that they have grown on me greatly. They’re cute. Just like the rest of my girlfriend.”

Oh. Girlfriend.

Her heart is full.

#Ether fic #allurance #legitallurance #Genderfluid Lance #nonbinary Pidge #post s8 #vld Lance #Princess Allura #I usually try and write as canon as possible. But. Lance should mess around with gender. As a treat. #Canon gave no explanation for those marks. So it’s fun to explore the possibilities. #having him be able to talk to the mice is a fun one. it’s like they’re on the same wavelength. and the mice gets someone to talk to whilst #Allura’s gone #fix it #Currently working on a much larger fix it. but this became one so #because I couldn’t just leave Allura dead. y’know? #it’s Allura. enough said #I didn’t put all the paladins in here. or Lance’s family really apart from small mentions. but they all love and accept her <3 #yeah. I know technically it’s not quite shapeshifting. the changes are more subtle. growing. shrinking. being a chameleon. but what if #if anyone is reading an allurance fic in 2024. hi

[khalidistan]

Originally published to Twitter on October 11, 2021. Full piece under the cut.

Much of the Squid Game fandom neuters and infantilizes Abdul Ali, the Pakistani migrant worker who participates in the games as Player 199, and this is part of a larger problem where brown men must be emasculated in order to receive any grace or humanity.

“Gendered identities do not exist independently of other factors, and must be viewed as intertwined with, for example, race or ethnicity if we are to understand the hierarchical organization of identities.” —Maryam Khalid

Ali is polite and formal in his interactions with the other Koreans because he has a power differential with all of them. John Lee writes “Ali’s character is an undocumented migrant worker from Pakistan. What that means is that as far as social hierarchies go, Ali is WAY at the bottom of it. It explains why he’s been unpaid by his employer for months” (1). Ali acts subservient because he’ll get beaten if he doesn’t. He’s supposed to express how “grateful” he is for the assistance.

Ali acts subservient because he’ll get beaten if he doesn’t. He’s supposed to express how “grateful” he is for the assistance.

But Ali has demonstrated multiple times that he can fend for himself. He advocates for his fair pay to his Korean boss, even wrestling his paycheck out of his boss’s hands. During the night fight he fights on his own with a metal beam before reuniting with his team. He even has the courage to mock Mi-nyeo after she spews xenophobic statements at him, defending his honor and calling her out on her hypocrisy and doubt of the team’s strategy.

People want to make Ali out to be naïve but fail to recognize that he immigrated to south Korea from Pakistan. He knows nothing of the language and customs. Heather Chen writes that Ali is “an outsider and knows that the odds would always be stacked against him in the unpredictable competition.” Ali cannot be naïve, because Ali is given no reason to doubt Sang-woo’s kindness from earlier: Sang-woo provides bus fare after the first game, offers bread, and shares companionship with Ali all the way until the marble game.

East Asia has a huge racism and colorism problem. Ali is forced to be submissive. He is docile because if he isn’t, he’s immediately labeled a threat. That is the dichotomy people are missing. Why do brown men walk on eggshells when they have to answer to authority or go through security checks? Brown men can either be cunning, savage, sneaky terrorists, or they can be naïve, dumb, effeminate and castrated. There’s never any middle ground or nuance to understanding them.

“The colonized man is simultaneously a boogeyman incapable of redemption, unworthy of saving/advocating for and excluded from occupying a position of vulnerability—that’s reserved for their ‘women & children’ counterparts—while also in-need of (white/colonial) civilizing, fascinating.” —Joshua Briond

Khalid writes that “Orientalist notions of the masculinity of the ‘Eastern’ male as uncivilized also inherently ascribe primitiveness, ineptness and a certain amount of weakness to the barbarized ‘other.’” Those doomed to the mythical Orient are automatically placed lower in masculinity than their white and colonial counterparts.

However, this reduced masculinity co-exists, paradoxically, with the idea that men from the Orient are simultaneously aggressive, belligerent, and violent. Elgin Brunner writes: “Such a framing—the association of the enemy with barbarism, as opposed to the self, which is civilized—includes two, often simultaneous, moves, that is: the ‘hypermasculinization’ of the enemy on the one hand, and his ‘effeminization’ on the other… The very same opponent is, by virtue of being categorized as a cowardly barbarian, rendered effeminate.”

It’s true that Ali is compassionate, looking out for others and not expecting things in return. But the woobification of Ali into a bumbling fool is more than gross misinterpretation—it’s character assassination and fails to recognize how race influences his reception by the community.

Works Cited:

Brunner, E. M. (2008). Consoling display of strength or emotional overstrain? the gendered framing of the early “War on terrorism” in transatlantic comparison. Global Society, 22(2), 217–251. https://doi.org/10.1080/13600820801887223

Khalid, M. (2011). Gender, orientalism and representations of the ‘other’ in the War on Terror. Global Change, Peace & Security, 23(1), 15–29. https://doi.org/10.1080/14781158.2011.540092

VICE MEDIA GROUP. (2021, October 6). A shout-out to Ali, a character too pure for the dark humanity in 'squid game'. VICE. Retrieved from https://www.vice.com/en/article/5db74b/ali-netflix-squid-game-character-interview-anupam-tripathi

Link to original Twitter thread

#squid game #abdul ali #critical race theory #meta analysis #khalid text

[artsy-icream]

can you do platonic! alastor x sibling! reader (one shot if you don’t mind)

Oooooo! I've been waiting for a hazbin ask!

WARNINGS!!: mentions of guns, cannibalism, murder, bombs, reader is gender neutral, oneshot is before the hazbin hotel was made but after vox died in the 40s, longest one shot I have ever made

Alastor x sibling!reader(PLATONIC):

It was a chaotic afternoon in pentagram city. Blood is being spilled, bullets are getting fired, bombs are exploding, so overall a typical Tuesday.

Alastor was peacefully minding his business, walking through cannibal colony to meet up with Rosie. They haven't been able to hang out a lot because of that silly Vox guy. It was a nice change of pace for al, it was starting to get frustrating because that TV box head.

While humming a simple tune, alastor strolled past an alleyway before stopping. His nose picked up a all too familiar smell. A metallic smell. That wasn't the only thing that peaked his interest, he heard chewing from the alley.

He saw a crouched figure in the shadows. They looked...familiar? It seems like they just fell down here, due to their dirty, bloody and torn wear. For once in his afterlife, he hesitated to approach a sinner, a possible fellow cannibal.

It took a while for him to step into the shadows of the alleyway. The sinner perked their head up as they heard his footsteps. They stood up quickly and faced alastor.

Alastor stopped in his tracks. It was his dearest sibling. They fell down here. On the streets, in dirty and bloody clothing. Munching on a corpse like an animal. He feels so guilty not feeling your presence sooner.

They had the same suprised look on his face. Alastor quickly ran up to them and squeezed them tight, never wanting to let go. They hugged him back, sniffling with sobs and tears coming from their eyes. He too feels some wetness on his face but he didn't care.

He didn't care about that his clothes were getting stains, he didn't care that he wasn't smiling anymore, he didn't care that any demon could have pounced on them at any given moment. All he cared about was them, his sunshine in his life. The one who always made everything better, who always made him better.

They were separated once but are now together again. Alastor was the first one to break the hug, staring his sibling right in the eyes. Up-close he could see their features better. They were also a deer demon, but with different colors. They both had the same skin tone and iris color. Their sclera had gone slightly red from the tears. And their teeth were the same color as his.

He cupped their face, wiping the tears away with his gloved hands. They still kept crying. He smiled once again.

"Don't cry, you're never fully dressed without a smile." He said so softly that his voice filter almost vanishes, caressing their cheek. After he said that they chuckled and finally cracked a smile.

They stayed like this in comfortable silence before a familiar voice broke it.

"Well well well! Alastor, you never told me you had a sibling!" A voice of a mature lady exclaimed from behind. Alastor's smile went back to his usual toothy grin and faced the individual in front of the alleyway.

"Rosie! I'm sorry I've kept you waiting for so long! But, I have someone you would definitely like to meet!" He chuckled, grabbing your hand and walked with you towards Rosie. You were obviously very shy upon meeting her, not because you were scared but because you weren't in very fitting clothing. But luckily for you, Rosie has made your meet feel very welcoming and has even given you new clothes after you arrived at her emporium.

After you have made yourself comfortable in your life in hell and discovered your powers, you and your brother have turned into hell's infamous murder duo; the redio sibling! It's very lazy I know. But you can't complain about it.

You have never been happier anywhere else. You have a job that you love, delicious meals, friends and your dearest brother. And you don't want to be anywhere else.

#Hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #X reader #Platonic x reader #Rosie hazbin hotel

[goregear]

Yippeeee Have another oc i just made!

Here's all the info below the Cut! REBLOGS > LIKES

Name: Captain Sena Addington 

Age: 26

 Species: Worker Drone [Modified]

Height: 7’

Occupation (if any): Pirate Captain

Gender & Pronouns: Female - She/They

Sexuality: Wouldn’t you like to know

 ⚓  ====== ⚓

Personality: 

Captain Sena is one of high energy and greed. She’s loud, unhinged, and unpredictable. Those who are strangers can find her annoying, or even disgusting with the way she acts. But it’s how She’s always been. Her greed and selfishness drives her to be what she is, the ones who are spared from this behavior are only her crew.

Strengths(at least 4): 

☠️ Loyalty Lies: ☠️

Sena’s crew is vastly loyal to only her, Her word means law, and she treats her crew well. Confronting the captain means confronting the crew

Always Best not to.

☠️Inventor at Heart:☠️

Before her life of crime, she was an inventor and engineer. She built her own replacement body and limbs, along with her weapons. Despite her lack of movement, she’s surprisingly smart

☠️Getting your Sea legs:☠️

The Capt. is an expert at “Sailing”

She’s a driver at heart, and has a mastery of driving various vehicles, large and small. One handed doesn’t mean she’s as helpless as many think she is

☠️Star Gazer:☠️

She has learned the stars, using them for guidance as she sails. No need for a map, when you can just look up. She’s had plenty of practice, only needing to glance to guess her current position.

Weaknesses(at least 4): 

⚓ Sack of 10 ton Iron:⚓

 Sena is as heavy as heavy can be, with the amount of altered armor and limbs. Sena is incapable of jumping even decently. She needs assistance in getting to higher places that require a bit of a hop.

⚓ Off Balance:⚓

With the large cannon arm attached to her body, Sena is very top heavy, or well- Right Heavy. She’s learned to live with it, but she still slips up, and can lean too far and be sent toppling over.

⚓ Greed Incarnate: ⚓

Sena is easily persuaded with payment, with either fuel for her ship, or Gold, Gold, and Gold. She steals, practically a kleptomaniac, If it’s out in the open, it’s now her’s

⚓ Immense Strain: ⚓

With her body so modified, excessive use causes her to fall to pieces, giving painful spasms to paralysis. This is exceeded even more every time she uses her canon

Weapons: 

Name: Cannon Arm

Effects: 

Essentially fires either energy balls / A Railgun like beam, or can be filled with regular canon balls.

Drawbacks:

Firing the weapon can cause strain on Sena’s body and mind. It drains her energy with every shot. It’s really only used to either kill someone worth killing with it, or to break into places that are heavily fortified

⚓

Name: Blade Leg

Effects: 

Used for stabbing or cutting, occasionally used to pin opponents down to then shoot

Drawbacks: 

Being a part of her body, it’s useless if she’s unable to move. As well as it being her leg. She does need to be able to walk

⚓

Name: Iron Knuckle

Effects: 

Is used to allow Sena’s punches to puncture and impale

Drawbacks: 

Must be used via extremely close quarters, as well as only being on one knuckle, via one hand.

⚓

Backstory: 

Sena was once a pretty regular worker, living deep in a colony and avoiding the outside world to the best of her ability. She was a child of imagination, having various books to achieve her daydreaming while she remained cooped up inside for various periods of times. She wasn’t exactly well liked, being odd and unnerving around many drones. She delved further into her books to distract herself from her unfortunate circumstances. When her colony was eventually invaded and overrun with disassemblies, she was left for dead, cut in half. She proceeded to live a terrible life in the ruins of her colony, gathering materials to repair her body and leave. The incident delved her deeper into her delusions, eventually driving herself to the brink of insanity.

She currently lives her life, deep into her delusions of her daydreams, acting out a fantasy to allow her to make believe and cope with the loss of everything she ever had

#murder drones #murderdrones #md #murder drones ocs #murder drones oc #md ocs #md oc #captain sena #artists on tumblr #mothart

[hyper-pixels]

I was going through old snips and I found one that was inspired by Neuromancer by William Gibson. It's only a 1,000 words but it does hold up

The physical world stood way below Nex. It wasn’t an opinion of their own they decided was factual, but one where everyone who knew of Nex’s true existence knew that nothing could quite be like Nex.

And that was still a very chosen few who knew Nex was nothing more than a colony of nanites that formed together to look like nanites. 

  Nex enjoyed the sin humanity brought. Thrilled with going to hidden bars with bright lights and music that makes your head throb. Funny enough, it was the idea of getting drunk- getting sick enough to make your liver reject itself- nor the idea of finding someone to be with for the night. It was the idea of watching people. 

How they kissed even though they knew people were watching. How business men talked in nooks of the places with random strangers who came seeking their help (either knowing the cost or not, they were ready to sell their soul for their greed.) When people bite their own skin and trade off money for drugs to feed nasty habits to numb their own existence. 

Nex loved it. Even if they never had the desire to participate themselves. Sure, a few  people here and there have sauntered over to them in hopes that they could entertain each other for a night, men and women, and those who are like Nex—who don’t conform to gender rules—they were all beautiful in their own ways. 

Nonetheless, Nex shooed them away and went to the restroom. While unable to change the clothes, their appearance was easy to manipulate. Turning the chosen burgundy hair for the night and making it a neon green that hurts to look at it for too long. Slender fingers pressing against their cheeks and watching the chubbiness move away from their face and find another area. Becoming an entirely new person. 

It was after one of those nights. Where Nex had just come from a bar halfway across the city and a digital kiosk and was waiting for a soda to stop from the machine. The humidity and rain mixture made everything hot and sticky, bad enough that the crowd at the club was thinner than most days so the people watching weren't as fun. 

Nex bit the knuckle of their thumb. Enjoying the artificial pain it brought. Their nanites moving inside themself. Craving  fuel. Their teeth ached and they bit harder into their artificial flesh to make the sensation leave.

    Eating wasn’t regularly needed, but Nex’s cravings for some sort of fuel was getting to them. It had stuck them so suddenly they thought the bonds would break and they’d be left with a withering, dying pile of nanites.

A woman stumbled into the street with a man. Both leaning onto one another for support. Nex’s first thought is drunk, but as they near they now notice that isn’t the case, they walk in too straight a line. Nex watched them with little shame. The woman was white and wore plenty of makeup that made her cheeks have a hard green blush with red dots to substitute as freckles. She has a loose suit with fabric attached to the waist. Her blonde hair looks to be in a tight bun that shows off her teardrop earrings. The man himself doesn’t look bad. Wearing a similar suit but with painted nails that look to be white. Expensive crimson red nanowear embedded into his face that wraps around his neck and disappears behind his suit. Four rings on his left hand that would be an easy steal. They stuck out like a sore thumb.

The last of the soda goes down and leaves a horrible burning sensation against his entire body. Nex wipes some of the soda off their face with their sleep, keeping their lips pressed against their wrist as they try to remember the rhythm their chest rose and fell. 

“Hey bud,” the woman says, using the tip of her heel to poke Nex’s hunched form. She had an appealing voice, not high pitched but now low and smooth. So smooth Nex would love to curl up in the sensation it makes them feel. “Know where the Yule is?”

A boring place where people with power meet to discuss business. It was classy, overpriced and boring as all hell. The food was mediocre from what Nex could gather. It was also on the opposite side of town in the uptown area.

“Dunno.” They lie, “never heard of it.”

“Makes sense,” the woman says. Giving a polite smile with no teeth. “You know a woman named Fae?”

“Dunno,” they repeat. This time the truth. The craving for fuel settled in the pit of their belly and right behind their jaw; their movements were becoming sluggish, desperate to jack into the web and upload data just to be destroyed after thirty days.

Before the woman can open her mouth Nex has already started to make their way across the street and continue the way they came. Mind becomes more and more hazy as they continue to walk before needing to stop all together. 

“It’s alright, Peter,” the woman says, her voice soft as she approaches. “It’s just a frequency to knock you out, you’ll be alright.”

Peter? Who’s Peter? Nex falls to their knees. Only being kept up by their arms as the man crouched next to them and keeps them from falling face first into the sidewalk. 

The craving grew. Spreading down their neck and making their artificial nerves burn. Jaw locked into place, eyes throbbing and ready to pop from their skull. Too much. It was all too much.

Nex closes their eyes, shutting down in hopes to preserve themself instead, if not the nanites.

#writing #personal writing #yknow. the thing I said id start doing then never did

[diaryofamadsunwukongfan]

Sage Ayana

Race: Human

Nationality: Atlas (Areia colony)

Ethnicity: Mixed Vacun & Mistrali

Weapon: Pilgrim

Gender: Man

Sexuality: Aromantic pansexual

Starting Age: 17

Birthday: Spring 1st

Aura Color: Green

Handedness: Right

Complexion: Dark brown

Eye Color: Red

Semblance: Remedy (Every time Sage's Aura shield takes damage, Sage's semblance converts the damage into a secondary Aura reserve called Mood. Sage can use his Mood to heal his body or to recharge his Aura shields immediately, which looks like green leaves wrapping around his body.)

Occupation: Haven student, Junior Detective, Boy band drummer

Previous Occuppation: Sanctum Regional Tournament player (2nd place ten times)

"And the winner is, Sage Ayana of Areia city!" the host announced to the crowd. The hundreds of people in the crowd went wild. Hundreds of them chanting, screaming, Sage's name. He could reasonably assume that almost everyone from his home was watching, cheering for him too. It wasn't good enough.

Sage headed to the locker room. He sat down and began checking his weapon for damages, even though last match only lasted about 7 minutes. That was when she came in. "Good afternoon, Sage Ayana."

Quiet.

"Good afternoon, Pyrrha Nikos." Sage said back to the armored redhead. "It seems we will be going up against each other in the finals again." Pyrrha stated.

Silence.

Pyrrha started again, "How many times have we faced each other like this?"

"Ten times, in a row. I lost every single match."

"Don't sell yourself so short! It's an accomplishment to make it to the finals consistently."

"Stop." Sage commanded.

Pause.

"... Pyrrha," Sage looked her in the eyes for the first time she entered the room, "you know what it's like for people like us. We don't represent ourselves, we represent our towns. And each time I lose here... forget it. I shouldn't have said that." Sage then turned his back again.

Pyrrha walked in front of Sage. "I apologize if my skill in combat has upset you," Pyrrha said, "but being the best comes with a price."

"That's easy for you to say-"

"It's not!" Pyrrha shouted. "... I know Areia is... unfavorably compared to Argus by Atlesians. But know that I, nor anyone else in Argus, view your city that way. We are equals. And it is an honor to earn second place as many times as you did even if you don't see it that way, friend." Pyrrha then reached out her hand to Sage.

For a moment, Sage considered taking her hand. Forgetting about his duties, his discipline, his fidelity to his parent's teachings of strength.

"We are not friends, Pyrrha Nikos." Sage stared her in the eye.

"... very well then, Sage Ayana. Eternal rivals, then." Pyrrha sadly stated.

"...ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for the finale!!!" The host screamed so loud it could be heard inside the locker room.

Sage and Pyrrha got up and walked to the door, waiting for it to automatically open.

"May the best fighter win" Pyrrha hummed.

"I won't lose this time." Sage stated to her.

"You have said that ten times before." Pyrrha coldly stated back.

For a moment, Sage's mouth turned into a frown, but he corrected his face. He must always correct himself, always strive to be perfect... still not good enough.

#woohoo #yeah baby this is what I've been waiting for!!! #rwde #rwby fix it fic #rwby rewrite #rwby redesign #sage ayana #my boy is a real character now!!! #also oof #I had to work overtime to make sure neither Sage nor Pyrrha look too bad during their argument #like Pyrrha is just living her best life and trying to help someone she sees is struggling #but shes not a pushover either #and Sage knows he's in his feelings which is why he tries to avoid the conversation all togather and be nice regardless #but back to my soft redesign #Red eyes suit Sage better than the gold ones and it matches him with Scarlet/Pyrrha #I changed his arm thingy to be a dark cyan for Neptune #so now Sage has all of his teamates colors because without him team SSSN would fall apart #he's like #their daddy figure #;) #anyway if I ever try to do something like this again know that the palms will be light #making Sage's lips look the way dark skin peoples lips look irl dramatically improved this design #if you white take notes #but yeah I had fun!