#until then at least I have Phenomena | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatfreshi · 29 days

Text

"Undeserving"

Hi! This was an expedited request by @mosshugs who asked that I go more into my headcanon of Astarion having ED behaviors. I want to preface this by saying I have limited experience with ED behaviors, and most of my experience and knowledge is from people I know with eating disorders, and I apologize if something I've written here doesn't feel correct for the experience.

So, BIG TW for eating disorder talk on this one.

If you'd like to have an expedited request, please check out the pinned post on my blog! (The masterlist can now be found under the tag freshimasterlist.)

When it comes to survival, it is difficult to foster nurturement, to find the strength to nourish even the smallest part of yourself. It is especially difficult for those who never had a nurturer, those who grew up without the protection of a mama bear, those who were ripped away from safety and forced into survival primarily, to find the strength to care, even if it's for themselves. While it seems like common sense, some part of you couldn’t ever fully understand the phenomena of nourishment and survival. That is, until you were faced with the conundrum head-on.

Astarion had somewhat perfected survival at this point, despite the fact that it was mostly not his choice. A more proper word choice might be endurance, the ability to persevere through torture despite your undying presence. Even now, he had endured all the way to the city, all the way to the legendary ‘Baldur’s Gate’ that you had been fighting towards for weeks. The two of you understood each other quickly, smoothly, reading each other like tea leaves. But, just like premonitions, not all of the details unfold as quickly as others.

Your vampiric lover had been feeding on you almost every evening since you found out about his little ‘secret,’ that he didn’t quite hide as well as he thought he did. Of course, it started when you were merely aquaintances, continued on when you were friends, and then turned into something more. Now, feeding on you is a romantic ritual of sorts, a sign of trust, a moment of recluse and safety. Safety is a word that Astarion is unfamiliar with, the feeling at least. But those moments he has drank from you, he has finally started to understand what exactly it means to be safe. That is, until he suddenly stopped.

You were waiting to face Cazador, a being who had now become one of multiple banes of your existence. Sadly, things on a wild adventure don’t necessarily schedule themselves neatly, which was making both you and Astarion jittery, anxious.

“We should rest soon you know. Plenty more villains to get around to.”

He isn’t fully listening, something you’re quite used to dealing with.

“I know.”

He’s more exhausted these days, moreso than usual. Everyone is tired obviously, but you’re more tuned into his energy than the others.

“Have you fed recently? It’s been a while since you’ve asked me.”

“Of course. How many people have I killed just today? Plenty of blood has been going around.”

He stands in the opening of the tent, staring off into nothing while you sit on the ground.

“You and I both know you don’t stop for long enough to get enough out of any of those fools.”

“And you take me for a liar?”

Astarion’s tongue is sharp, and he finally turns to face you.

“I take you for a liar, but not usually a liar to me. Now, come, drink some.”

You’ve had plenty of banters like this, where he has been difficult with you, but the night air doesn’t sit peacefully like on those nights. He’s not staring at nothing, but at the past, the future. He doesn’t bend to your whim.

“Really, my darling Tav, I am alright. Perhaps you should go to bed without me, I might be up for a while.”

Distant. He’s only distant when something is truly bothering him, just like he was in the beginning, just like he was when you met him on the beach.

“Astarion, why don’t you want to feed on me?”

Out of the myriad of things he doesn’t like, he doesn’t like direct confrontation from you. When it comes to safety, survival, nourishment, he likes to be elusive. He likes to hide from you, because sometimes you let him. He wasn’t allowed to hide before, when he was still living at the palace. Sometimes though, you can’t let him hide.

“Who said I don’t want to feed on you? Why, your blood is delightful! Delectable even.”

And there he goes, that slight seduction in his tone, a distraction.

“Then why haven’t you drank from me in days? Over a week at this point?”

Now comes the moment when he realizes there is no way out, that you’re onto him, that he can’t dance around it with his words any longer. He makes his way to be next to you.

“I… I’m not really sure Tav.”

A very rare occurrence, where Astarion sounds entirely clueless.

“What do you mean?”

“I, I mean I do want to. I’ve told you so many times before how much I delight at our feedings, I just-”

You give him a moment.

“I feel, wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Wrong. Like it wouldn’t be right to feed from you.”

“Aster, I’ve told you how many times that I’m okay with you feeding on me. It’s even enjoyable at times! And besides, it’s good for you, and it strengthens our bond-”

“I don’t think any of that is what this is. And I do hear you, but this… this is different. Maybe it’s because we’re so close to confronting, him.”

Both of your faces change slightly at the thought of Cazador.

“Are you nervous? Because that seems entirely natural.”

“Well, yes. Of course I’m nervous, not that I would tell anyone else that. I think this though, is perhaps a feeling of being undeserving of something.”

“Like what?”

“Freedom, love, more than rats. I have wanted to feed on you numerous times, but I find myself being held back by this feeling of being… undeserving.”

“My dear, you are entirely deserving of feeding, especially on me.”

You move to comfort him, a light touching arm.

“I suppose it doesn’t feel that way right now. You know what I was forced to drink from before: flies, rats, other vermin. And of course, when you first offered for me to feed from you, I was so incredibly taken away by a luxury I was never given. Now though, I simply wonder if I should’ve ever had that luxury at all, or if I should have that luxury even now.”

“You are deserving though.”

“I don’t think that will fix it my love. I don’t know if anything that you say can fix this.”

One of the hardest truths of love, that your words cannot always fix their wounds. That sometimes, there are things you will never be able to heal by yourself.

“Then… how do we fix it? How do we make you feel deserving of feeding?”

He fumbles with his hands.

“Time? Patience? I don’t honestly know darling.”

You move a hand over to his wandering ones, hoping to ground him a little.

“Maybe, now that I know, we could at least try? Even just a little?”

There’s a hint of optimism in his demeanor, something you’ve seen more of over time.

“Alright then, we can try. But that’s all I can promise, an attempt.”

And so, he moves to prepare as you lie down, a much easier way to get your life’s essence taken. It’s a little more tense than usual, which makes sense following a conversation like that. There’s a moment where his teeth pierce your skin, and a piece of time where he does feed, and then there’s a sharp pull away. He seems almost nauseous when you sit back up. You cover the rip he just made on your neck with a nearby piece of cloth.

“I’m sorry, I just… I can’t tonight. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you tried. That’s all I said right, that we should try?”

You move back over to him and wipe at a tear, one made from an apology he never should’ve had to give.

“Right. And maybe we can try again tomorrow?”

“Of course my love, of course.”

When the two of you lie down finally, there isn’t much said for the rest of the evening. You’ll never quite know exactly what he felt in that moment, what tasting your blood was like, how it made him ill and scared. One thing you do know is that you’ll be there again the next evening, and the evenings later, even if it takes a lifetime to repair that relationship with feeding from you. And maybe eventually, there won’t be that feeling of being undeserving anymore. Maybe one day, there will be nourishment instead of survival, but for now, you can try and make survival as nurturing as you can.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #angst

87 notes · View notes

paarthursass · 7 months

Text

Reversing Ceremorphosis

There is an interesting debate to be had about whether mind flayers experiencing extreme partialism (the Emperor, Tav/Orpheus/Karlach depending on the ending) are truly the same person they were before ceremorphosis. According to 5e's lore, when a person undergoes full ceremorphosis they die and the tadpole takes full control. They normally experience none of the host's memories except in rare cases, where a phenomena known as "partialism" occurs.

Even in a non-magical setting "is something that experiences all your memories the same person as you" would be a tricky question, and in a setting where there are indisputably souls that depart the body upon death...that question becomes even stickier.

And that all brings me to my main point, which is: what is the best way to reverse ceremorphosis?

So we have two options in front of us:

Option 1) Though the tadpole may retain all the memories of its host, it is not them. The host (Balduran, Tav, Karlach, etc.) dies during ceremorphosis and what is left is a mind flayer tadpole experiencing their memories as their own. But their soul is gone, they are dead.

Option 2) The tadpole is experiencing the host's memories indistinguishably from its own. For all intents and purposes, it is the same person.

The game itself does not give us clear answers to this. Ansur speaks to the Emperor as if he were Balduran. Gale wishes to still marry you after ceremorphosis, indicating he at least still views you as the same person. The other characters don't seem to be of this viewpoint. The look Lae'zel gives you before she flies away with Orpheus is such a sad look that it reads, to me, like she views you as dead. Everyone talks at length about your "sacrifice," and it is clear they mean more than just your appearance. A romanced Wyll speaks about your future together like it is a lost dream, like you are already dead even though you're right there. There is no clear answer.

Which brings me to my second question...

What is the best way to reverse ceremorphosis?

Because the way I see it, there are two main options (not including Wish, which I will get to in a bit)

Option 1) True Polymorph. An illithid (or someone else of appropriate skill level) could cast this on them and polymorph them back to their original form. After an hour the effects are permanent, and they're not a mind flayer anymore! However, how "valid" this cure is depends on whether or not you consider the tadpole with the host's memories to basically be the host. Their soul has gone from their body, but they are not a mind flayer anymore and they have all their memories so...what are they? Are they Them, or are they something new?

Option 2) True Resurrection. This requires no body, nor any fragment of the body, and can be used so long as the target hasn't been dead for longer than 200 years. Especially considering Gale was able to get his hands on one scroll of True Resurrection, it doesn't seem all that unlikely (if perhaps a little difficult) that he and the others could get their hands on another.

But an illithid restored via True Resurrection would only have their memories right up until ceremorphosis killed them. They would have no recollection of defeating the Netherbrain and everything that came after (such as traversing Avernus, if they decided to go with Wyll and Karlach.)

And, more importantly (and horrifically) the mind flayer with their memories is still there, too.

Think about that for a moment. You remember dying, you remember the agony of your body becoming something else but then your friends brought you back from that, they saved you. But that thing is still there; walking around in what used to be your body, with your memories rattling around in its head.

And how does that feel for the mind flayer left behind?

You still think you are you, but then...there you are. Your friends wanted you back so badly but not you, no the other you, the you were before, the you they clearly think is the real one. You are not yourself, in spite of everything you have shared, everything you have done...

And as for the Wish spell, that is a notoriously finicky option. The spell description itself states "wishing that a villain were dead might propel you forward in time to a period when that villain is no longer alive" and "wishing for a legendary magic item or artifact might instantly transport you to the presence of the item's current owner."

So...who is to say that using Wish to restore someone from ceremorphosis would not simply bring the person back, the second before they transformed, with the mind flayer still there as well? Who is to say Wish would not simply do what a True Polymorph spell would do, and transform the mind flayer into their previous form without restoring the soul of the original owner?

I don't have any good answers for this, but I am fascinated by the implications of it all.

#sophie.txt #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 emperor #bg3 orpheus #karlach #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #it's very nick valentine in fallout 4 tbh...#tho nick clearly views himself as separate from the original nick valentine #but THIS....bro where do u even START #bg3 meta

172 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months

Text

Kinkslump Linkdump

This is my dozenth linkdump! The world comes at you fast, and even though I'm writing 4-5 essays a week for this newsletter, many's the week that ends with more stray links than will fit in that format. Here's the previous ones:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

I managed to turn out five posts last week, despite being on tour with my latest novel, The Lost Cause, a hopeful solarpunk novel endorsed by Rebecca Solnit, Bill McKibben and Kim Stanley Robinson. The tour went great – the book's now a national bestseller on the USA Today list! Here's an essay I wrote explaining the structure of the feeling that the book is meant to convey:

https://www.torforgeblog.com/2023/11/14/cory-doctorow-the-swerve/

This is a climate emergency novel full of rising seas, terrible storms, wildfires and zoonotic plagues, and yet – it is a hopeful novel. What makes it hopeful? It depicts a future in which we are treating these phenomena with the gravitas and urgency they warrant, with our whole society's focus shifting to moving coastal cities inland, weatherizing and solarizing our housing, and creating permanent housing for internal refugees.

While it would be infinitely preferable to live in a world where none of that is necessary, that's not the world we have. This is an sf novel, not a fantasy novel, so all the climate harms we've locked in through decades of expensively procured inaction are present. But the difference between disaster and catastrophe is how and whether we address those harms. Sure, this is a world where superstorms wipe away whole cities and Miami is a drowned mangrove swamp, but it's also a world in which oil executives do not chair UN climate summits or complain that oil companies are being "unjustly vilified":

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/11/27/opec-says-oil-industry-unjustly-vilified-ahead-of-climate-talks-.html

I write a lot, and it's not just this newsletter. Writing transports me from my anxieties and aches. That's how I came to write nine books during lockdown ("when life gives you SARS, make sarsaparilla"). Lost Cause was one of three books I published in 2023.

I'm going to greet 2024 with another novel, The Bezzle, a sequel to 2023's Red Team Blues, about the hard-charging, high-tech forensic accountant Marty Hench:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

The Bezzle is a story about the shitty technology adoption curve – the way that the worst technologies we have are first rolled out on the people least able to complain about them. After these bad technologies have their sharp edges sanded down on the bodies of prisoners, refugees and kids, they move up to blue collar workers and discount store shoppers, and so on, until we're all living under their thumb.

In The Bezzle, a dear friend of Marty finds himself serving a long sentence in a privatized California prison that flips from one private equity fund to the next, each with even worse, more extractive ways to use technology to bleed prisoners and their families dry. You can read the opening scenes in a just-published excerpt on Tor Books's site:

https://www.torforgeblog.com/2023/11/20/excerpt-reveal-the-bezzle-by-cory-doctorow/

The period immediately before a book's publication is always a tense one, as the first reviews trickle in. Library Journal's Marlene Harris is the first out of the gate, with a spectacular review:

https://www.libraryjournal.com/review/the-bezzle-1802415

Marty’s reminiscences range from obscure financial machinations to heaping helpings of social commentary but always move the underlying thriller story forward in a backwards heist tale that delivers a righteously satisfying ending to the surprise of both the reader and the villain. This novel, like his previous outing, rides on Marty’s voice. He has a jaundiced view of everything, but he tells it with such style and verve that readers are caught up and ride along on the surface until the shark beneath the water jumps out and bites the villain where it hurts.

I'm headed into Skyboat Media's studios on Monday with @wilwheaton to record the audiobook for this one, directed as ever by the amazing Gabrielle de Cuir. Keep your eyes peeled for a presale crowdfunder in January!

I am often asked how I decide when to present an idea through fiction and when to do so with nonfiction. The answer is a complicated one, and I got into it in some detail on Nature's Working Scientist podcast, in discussion with Paul Shrivastava:

https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-023-03394-8

When it comes to politics, fiction and nonfiction are intensely complementary. Nonfiction can convey the data about a social phenomenon, but fiction can convey the meaning of the data. It's one thing to see a chart about inequality, and another to inhabit it through fiction. Marty Hench's narrative adventures are a way into the feeling of living in a corrupt oligarchy.

There are other ways into that feeling, of course. Take Barry Bowen's "Lifestyles of the Blessed & Famous: Preacher Homes Sold in 2023" for The Roys Report:

https://julieroys.com/lifestyles-blessed-famous-preacher-homes-sold-2023/?mc_cid=9678383b64

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then carefully staged realtor drone shots ganked from the Redfin listing for a "pastor"'s $3.5m mansion in Newport Beach is a full-on sermon about the corruption of the Hillsong megachurch:

https://www.redfin.com/CA/Newport-Beach/503-30th-St-92663/home/12363926

Narratives and photos are all well and good, but there's always room for some data. The USA's weird breed of federalism and devolved power makes for some very interesting data. Writing for The American Prospect, Paul Starr rounds up several studies evaluating the "natural experiments" created by enacting very different policies in otherwise similar states:

https://prospect.org/health/2023-12-08-life-death-cost-conservative-power/

The data is in: conservativism kills. Living in a red state shortens your life expectancy. The redder the state, the worse it is. The bluer the state, the longer you're likely to live:

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/1468-0009.12469

The exemplars here are Connecticut and Oklahoma, whose life expectancies were at par until they began to diverge in policies. Oklahoma got more conservative, Connecticut got more liberal. Today, the average Oklahoman will pop their clogs at 75.8, while a Connecticutensian can expect 80.7 years.

Different scholars have parsed out different policy outcomes. Giving Medicaid to children, for example, shows benefits for the next 50 years:

https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/aer.20171671

The big one, of course, is gun control. Here's the topline: "restrictive state gun policies reduce overall gun deaths." Water also wet:

https://journals.lww.com/epidem/fulltext/2023/11000/the_era_of_progress_on_gun_mortality__state_gun.3.aspx

Fact-free spiritual beliefs like "an armed society is a polite society" are key to conservative policymaking. Pesky progressives who confuse the issue with relevant facts are playing dirty, pointing out reality's unfair leftist bias.

But after 40 years of neoliberal deference to corporate power, the worm is turning. Somehow, a world on fire, filled with megapastors in megamansions who brief for lethal policies, has finally inspired a global vibe-shift (and not a moment too soon!). One of the most tangible expressions of that shift is the revival of antitrust, which has been in a coma since the Reagan administration.

All over the world – the EU, the UK, Ireland, Australia, and the USA – there are new competition enforcers challenging corporate power in ways that were unthinkable just a few years ago. If I'd written an enforcer like FTC chair Lina Khan in 2010, critics would have slammed me for wish-fulfillment too unrealistic for science fiction.

But today, Khan is taking big swings at corporate power, fighting against a calcified edifice of decades of bad, pro-monopoly precedent. The pro-monopoly press hate her, which is why the WSJ keeps publishing sweaty op-eds insisting that she is wasting her time and that monopolies are good, actually:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

But she is still out there, fighting for all of us. After a pro-monopoly judge stymied the FTC's bid to block the rotten Microsoft/Activision merger, Khan re-filed, appealing the decision:

https://www.reuters.com/markets/deals/us-ftc-tries-again-stop-microsofts-already-closed-deal-activision-2023-12-06/

Critics insist that she's on a foolish errand, but Khan is tackling the most promising face of a sheer cliff, and the plainly anticompetitive merger between one of the world's largest console makers (a convicted monopolist!) with one of the world's largest games publishers is the right place to start. If she can get her piton into one of the hairline cracks in that face, her arduous climb gains a solid anchor for the next stage of her assent.

Of course, Khan's highest-profile action is her case against Amazon, the omnipresent, dystopian poster-child for enshittification, a platform we can't avoid, but which is so haphazardly policed that the bestselling bitter lemon energy drink you order might be bottled piss harvested from its immiserated drivers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

In a world of murderous, community-destroying monopolies, Amazon stands out for the sheer number of ways it makes the world worse. Amazon maims its warehouse workers and kills its drivers with impossible quotas. It poisons Black and brown neighborhoods with truck exhaust from its giant depots. It destroys small businesses that sell on its platform. It was part of the studio cabal scheming to destroy actors and writers' livelihoods with unfair contracts and AI. Its audiobook monopoly stole at least $100m from independent authors. It makes goods and services more expensive at every retailer (not just Amazon), and price-gouges on its own storefront:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

Keeping that scam going requires a lot of skullduggery. A new set of leaked internal Amazon documents shed some light on how that inedible sausage gets made:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/wxjbm9/amazon-brags-it-cultivated-california-mayor-with-donations-in-leaked-policy-document

Amazon's "Community Engagement Plan 2024" brags about buying off small-town mayors and astroturf groups in its bid to resist regulations that would limit warehouse delivery van emissions in communities of color (Amazon calls this "philanthropic work"). Coincidentally, that "philanthropy" targeted Perris, a town where residents voted for a warehouse tax to repair the roads that had been trashed by fleets of Amazon vans.

But the real focus of Amazon's "Community Engagement" is California's AB1000, a bill that will limit the construction of supersized, 100k+ sqft warehouses near daycare centers, schools or rec centers. Secondarily, Amazon is hoping to get California to make it easier to advertise alcohol around kids, to "unlock" California's liquor market.

This kind of shameless, mustache-twirling villainry can only go on so long before it meets resistance. One of the longest-running, hardest fought struggles against corporate malfeasance is the farmers' right ro repair fight against John Deere. Deere boobytraps its tractors so that after a farmer repairs a Deere tractor, they have to wait for days, and pay hundreds of dollars, for a Deere technician to come out to the farm and type an unlock code into the tractor's console:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

Despite multiple state right-to-repair initiatives and a pending rulemaking from the FTC, Deere is still fucking around. Now, they've found out. US District Court Judge Iain Johnson just handed Deere a scathing, 89-page memo rejecting the company's bid to kill a class action suit brought by its customers:

https://www.reuters.com/legal/litigation/deere-must-face-us-farmers-right-to-repair-lawsuits-judge-rules-2023-11-27/?ref=404media.co

The memo hearkens back to company founder John Deere, "an innovative farmer and blacksmith who—with his own hands—fundamentally changed the agricultural industry":

https://www.404media.co/a-massive-repair-lawsuit-against-john-deere-clears-a-major-hurdle/

Judge Johnson tells Deere's lawyers that the real John Deere "would be deeply disappointed in his namesake corporation," and calls out their lying. You love to see it.

This kind of thing is happening all over the world as policymakers, regulators and lawmakers take aim at corporate power. The Australian government just announced that it would force Apple to open up iOS to alternative browser engines:

https://open-web-advocacy.org/blog/new-digital-competition-laws-for-australia/

This is obscure and technical, but that's why it's so exciting: rather than mumbling broad platitudes about competition and user choice, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission's regulation targets a critical leverage point where a small change will deliver huge benefits:

https://www.accc.gov.au/media-release/consumers-and-small-businesses-to-benefit-from-proposed-new-regulation-of-digital-platforms

While there are many browsers in Apple's App Store, they're all just reskinned versions of Safari, all running on the same core engine, Webkit. Webkit is ancient, undermaintained and feature-poor. Crucially, Webkit does not implement the parts of the HTML5 standard needed for WebApps, which would allow app developers a safe channel to offer apps that don't go through Apple's App Store monopoly chokepoint:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/13/kitbashed/#app-store-tax

Now, there's a big jump between announcing this kind of regulation and enacting it. As Mark Nottingham points out, Australia's had an "in principle" commitment to enact a privacy regulation for two successive governments, with no actual regulation in sight:

https://techpolicy.social/@mnot/111546662237364754

So we can't take these announcements as a sign to declare victory and stand down. The policymakers who announce these proposals deserve our accolades for the announcement and they require our constant vigilance until they make good on their promises.

That's the case in Ireland, where the Coimisiún na Meán has just published a fantastic regulatory proposal for recommendation systems, requiring recommenders to be turned off by default and that recommendations based on "political views, sexuality, religion, ethnicity or health" have to be switched off by default:

https://www.cnam.ie/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/Draft_Online_Safety_Code_Consultation_Document_Final.pdf

It's especially significant that this is coming out of Ireland, a corporate crime haven that has successfully lured the world's tech giants into flying its flag of convenience, with the guarantee of tax evasion and lax regulation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

This rule won't enforce itself. It'll require constant vigilance and pressure. There's plenty of ways to do that on a part-time, voluntary basis, but if this kind of thing enflames you enough to make a career out of it, here's a tenure-track job for an infosec professor at Citizen Lab, fearless slayers of high-tech corporate ogres:

https://jobs.utoronto.ca/job/Toronto-Assistant-Professor-Information-Security-ON/576463017/

That's all for this week's linkdump. It's time for me to go hole up in my office and wrap presents. When I do, I'll be tuning into the latest Merry Mixmas MP3 of Christmas mashups from DJ Riko:

http://www.djriko.com/dls/DJ%20Riko%20-%20Merry%20Mixmas%202023.mp3

Riko's Christmas mashups have been part of my holidays for more than two decades now. He's been making them for 22 years! That's a lot of great holiday mashups:

https://www.djriko.com/mixmases.htm

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/09/gallimaufry/#marty-hench-rides-again

75 notes · View notes

lilyofthesword-writes · 6 months

Text

Honeymoons & Couches

Summary: You and Loki have finally married and are now partaking in the reception.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 906

Warnings/Disclaimers: Almost spicy

A/N: Again, thank you to everyone who kept reading my works while I was gone! You all are the best! Hope you enjoy this comfort fic.

Couches Mini-Series List

Masterlist

Despite the reception hall’s coalescence of extravagant gold laced expertly with emerald and silver that mesmerized each guest and helped keep them entertained, Loki was anxious.

The guest list was more than either of you had anticipated. Tony may have had something to do with that. Immediate family was set near the wedding party, and the Avengers who weren’t at the main table along with a few friends you both knew were nearby. That made up maybe a third of the room. The rest? Neither of you had a clue. Even after making your rounds together to check in on each table, you didn’t recognize a single face or name.

You had just sat down after making yet another round when your gaze landed on your families. Odin, your now official father-in-law, was smiling and making small talk with your parents. You raised a glass of champagne to your lips to keep your mouth from falling agape. It was surprising enough that Odin was in attendance in the first place. You hadn’t quite decided if his presence was in poor taste or not. After all, he had forbidden a royal wedding to a Midgardian from taking place on Asgard. Then again, if he had refused to show up at all, Frigga’s soul may have risen to haunt him for the rest of eternity.

You turned to Loki to see if he had observed the familial phenomena and froze. He was wringing his hands in his lap, well out of sight of the guests. He was smiling, but it was tired, and his eyes which were flitting about the hall held the same exhaustion. Well, at least it wasn’t Odin causing his anxiety. But… Maybe that wasn’t the right descriptor. Overwhelmed would be better.

It was time.

You scanned across the guests, finally landing on landing on Pepper near the back of the venue. It looked like she had pulled an almost drunk Tony aside for a chat, though her eyes watched everyone else. She caught your gaze and curved her brow. You raised your glass, swirled it exactly three times, and brought it to your lips before tapping it twice with your middle finger. Pepper nodded. She whispered something to Tony, and his eyes lit like beacons. He made a mad dash for the DJ equipment that Happy had utilized at for the obligatory first dance before dinner was served.

Reaching for Loki’s hand, you leaned over and kissed Loki’s cheek. It was the perfect cover for you to whisper, “You ready to run?”

Loki’s eyes drifted back to you but not for long. The feedback from the microphone Tony picked eye stole his and everyone else’s attention. Tony shouted something about starting a beat. You weren’t really sure. You were solely focused on Loki turning back to you with a lopsided smirk and glimmering eyes.

The lights fell and the music started.

Loki squeezed your hand before pulling you close. “More than ready.”

The flash of green blended in well the strobe lights and lasers that Tony was absolutely too ecstatic to use.

Loki kept you in his arms until your senses returned to normal. Although, he was reluctant to release you even then, but he was just as curious about the room Pepper had booked you for the week.

The honeymoon suite had the same color theme as the reception hall. Gold table runners adorned the dark mahogany furniture. One of which hosted a dark green bottle of champagne (as if you hadn’t had enough yet). Emerald petals that contrasted brightly against the white carpet trailed out of the sitting room and, more than likely, into the bedroom. If Pepper’s immaculate planning and eye for detail were just as evident here along with the wedding, the bedroom would be just as stunning.

You wrapped your arms around your husband’s neck and purred, “You know what would be great right now?”

“What, my darling?” Loki rested his forehead against yours.

“To change out of these clothes and into something more… comfortable.”

Loki grinned and raised hand as though he was about to snap his fingers. Your hand met his, and you laced your fingers together.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” you chuckled.

“But dove,” he pouted playfully.

You pulled away, pointing to the suitcases by the door. “Humor me? This won’t take long.”

And it wouldn’t. You were desperate to get out of your stiff wedding attire and surprise your husband with the new clothing Wanda and Nat and helped you pick out. You’d tear it off if you had to, with or without Loki’s help.

You quietly tip-toed down the hall back to the sitting room in the outfit you were sure would have Loki leaping off the sofa you left him at. Poking your head around the door, you found he was still there just as you had insisted.

He was asleep.

Slinking across the room, you reached the edge of the sofa where you could confirm his soft, deep breathing. He was out cold.

You breathed a laugh through your nose and returned to the bedroom. You came back with the bed comforter. After delicately draping it over Loki, you joined him underneath, tucking your head under his chin and sneaking your arms around him as comfortable as possible. He reciprocated almost instantly. You smiled and gently kissed his neck.

This certainly wasn’t the worst way to spend your wedding night.

Tag list: @nahthanks @lucywrites02 @whatafuckingdumbass @gaitwae

Edit: totally forgot to add the tag list when I posted xb

#loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x you #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #pepper potts #tony stark #happy #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

137 notes · View notes

selfcestmovies · 11 days

Text

To say that Kate Bishop was frustrated was putting it mildly.

She and Yelena had decided to join Wanda and Natasha on a "working vacation" to Kamar-Taj — the ancient, mystical sanctum in Tibet where Kate had hoped she and Yelena could reignite their blossoming relationship. Things hadn't been hot and heavy between the two of them for a while; Yelena insisted they weren't to be labeled and things had to stay casual, at least until the pace of her missions slowed down. Even in Kamar-Taj, Yel seemed fully preoccupied working with Nat and Wanda to untangle some of the Red Room's aftermath, leaving Kate "theoretically single" and trapped in a bizarre foreign compound with far too much free time.

Not to mention the BOREDOM that came with it. There was no Wi-Fi here, no decent snack food, and she had to leave Lucky at home. Other than exploring the vast compound, her days were slowly becoming excruciatingly dull. And to make matters worse, Wanda had asked her to stop snooping around the dark corners of the sanctum. She said it wasn't a place for a young woman of Kate's curiosity.

It was her ninth afternoon trapped at Kamar-Taj when Kate decided to take herself for a long run through the grounds. It would eat up some time, but more importantly, it would hopefully blow of some steam and some much-lamented tension that she had hoped Yelena would have helped her release. Being sex-less with Yelena just out of arms reach was frustrating beyond belief, but Kate knew she couldn't start seeking out other girlfriends while Yelena hemmed and hawed about the status of their relationship. Kate needed patience, but that wasn't her strong-suit.

These thoughts flooded her brain during the long afternoon jog — so much so that when she recollected her wits, Kate had no idea where in the compound she had wound up. She recognized the central library, though — a corner "fully off limits" by Wanda's orders, but surely that edict wasn't absolute, and Kate was in need of a shortcut back to her dorm.

The library was cool, too. Shelves of artifacts and mystical books with seemingly limitless magical potential. Kate took a meandering route through the dusty stacks, idly fingering the spines of some of the fancier books she passed. It wouldn't hurt to take a look into some of them, right? Or to read out loud the first line of ancient script that piqued her interest...

The swirl of violet light from the books pages made her instantly regret the impulse, but it seemed too late as the magic enveloped her — before the aura subsided, finally, leaving Kate unharmed... but not alone.

"Woah." "Woah. Jinx!"

She was standing face to face with what seemed like a living mirror, identical to Kate down to the strands of hair dangling from her messy ponytail or the beads of sweat on her brow.

"Holy crap, this is freaky," one Kate murmured, reaching out to touch the hem of the clone's sports bra.

"You're telling me," the double repeated the gesture. "So you're really me? I mean – we're really us? This is freaky."

Kate nodded, confused and entranced. "I think... well, yeah. We're both us. Both Kate."

Decoding and reversing magical phenomena was not in Kate's wheelhouse, but reaching out to Wanda for help after blatantly violating her policies seemed like a non-starter. So the Kates got to work trying to re-read and undo the script they had read from the book, to little success, so they started scanning other pages of the tome, looking into other nearby books, anything to try and find a solution.

"Look at this, um, other Kate—" it felt weird to say her own name out loud, "At least this page is in English." The clone hustled to Kate's side. "It says that these enchantments are designed to last two hours, so at least..." she cast a glance at her double, "It's not permanent. We just have to kill some time."

"Thank fucking god," the second Kate huffed. "I mean, I'm not upset that you're hear, but Wanda would murder us if she saw us like this."

"The entire Kamar-Taj army would kill us, Kate," the other smirked. "Not to mention Yelena flipping out — she thinks one of us is a disaster, let alone dealing with double."

They laughed in tandem. "I've got to say," Kate put the book down on its shelf, "Speaking of Yelena, and having the chance to finally, you know, examine myself from a new perspective," she gestured head to toe at her twin's body, "Yelena is missing the fuck out."

The other Kate smiled and raised her eyebrows. "I'd say the same thing! We're hot, Kate, no dancing around it." It was fun to finally have a chance to give voice to the thought, after it had been swirling around her head since the moment she had been duplicated. They took turns complimenting the little, superficial things about each other – they looked especially fit after just completing their 10-mile jog, plus they liked their hair, their eyes, their smile. Kate avoided saying out-loud that she liked her own ass, but she presumed the other Kate was on the same page. She had checked it out probably a half-dozen times already anyway, ever since the two had started looking through books side by side.

But when Kate bit her lip, so did her reflection. They didn't need to say it the rest out loud.

One Kate quickly checked over her shoulder down the library corridor, while the other Kate did the same towards the rear entrance. "All clear," she spoke, her voice starting to waver.

"Can you imagine if Yelena walked in on us?" The other laughed. "All clear over here, too." She swiftly closed the distance between the two of them.

The first Kate had barely turned to face the twin before the other grabbed her by her wrists and pinned her from behind to the book shelf. "Fuck, Kate," the woman whispered into her ear. She traced her hands down Kate's back, to her hips, squeezing their bodies close. "I'm so glad we're on the same page."

"Was there ever any doubt?" She asked cheekily, bucking her hips backwards against her clone's body. "If Yelena refuses to get us off—"

"I'm happy to help myself," the other Kate finished the thought, taking the chance to spin her twin's body 180 degrees so the two were face to face. "I'm gorgeous," she whispered, running her hands up the other's body.

"You could say that again," Kate cooed, leaning forward to capture her clone's lips with her own. The kiss was only cautious for an instant – both Kates concerned for that split second that the universe might implode at their touch – but the moment all seemed safe and stable, the dam broke between them. Their mouths opened wide to battle for supremacy, biting and sucking at each other's lips. Their hands were just as aggressive, finding purchase on each other's ass, then chests, then abs, all eager to explore.

"Our body—" she'd gasp. "Fucking amazing—" the other would finish.

The sex was messy and quick, but electric, each woman knowing precisely the points on the other's body that spun her quickest into ecstasy. Within just a handful of minutes, the two had fallen to the floor, their backs against the stacks of books, panting for breath, leaning on each other for support.

"Holy hell, you're good at that," Kate exhaled.

The other brought a hand to her clone's knee and patted her three times. "Right back at you Kate. That was something." She checked her phone. They still had more time to kill. "Round two?"

"Yeah," Kate raised her eyebrows. "But I think we should crack open another book first."

The first Kate cocked her head to the side before the notion hit her. "Pretty and brilliant," she smirked. "Seems like we both agree—"

"—The more, the merrier."

#kate bishop #fake movie poster #mcu #hawkeye #selfcest #hailee steinfeld #ai art #ai generated #ai artwork #ai image #wlw #mcu headcanons #yelena x kate #kate x yelena #incorrect bishova #bishova #mentions of wanda and nat #kamar taj

24 notes · View notes

seafoamreadings · 8 months

Text

week of sunday august 27th, 2023

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: if it feels like a bit of a lead weight on your soul all week, that's a saturn thing. this week's full moon in your 12th house is conjunct saturn, so you have a lot of feelings and it can seem like they're dragging you into a viscous horrible fluid by a lead anchor on your feet or concrete shoes. it isn't all as bad as it feels. the way out is to accept it, maybe retreat into a sort of hermit mode, sit with and listen to the emotions. on the other side of the full moon you start to float back up.

taurus: uranus goes retrograde in your sign. more retrograde phenomena are to follow next week. meanwhile also a full moon in pisces suggests a quiet night or two or several at home, even though socializing can be beneficial on ordinary full moons. this is not one. the stereotype that weird things happen and emergency rooms are more busy on full moons has to do with lunar antics like this.

gemini: focus on your home life, your family of origin, and your ancestry this week, especially if you have ancestral wounds or trauma and no one but yourself to heal your lineage. retrograde activity supports you in this work. it's not always fair that you have to do it, but you can heal the past and the future.

cancerians: the pisces full moon is one you can connect to viscerally as a water sign. but be advised it is conjunct saturn within a couple degrees and this can make it feel heavy and mundane compared to ordinary pisces full moons. therefore it likely takes on a melancholy tone and is less energizing for you than you would prefer. yet you're just as psychic and intuitive as ever, if you commit yourself to listening.

leo: you are the only sign i think this week's full moon on saturn REALLY benefits. if you have a magical practice or if you love to manifest, whatever you work on under that auspice gets plunked down into the 3D earth by heavy saturn. if you're not that sort at least launch a project or work on a goal or wish on a star or something!

virgo: a full moon in pisces highlights your relationships. maybe they go a little nuts. maybe YOU go a little nuts. that's okay. saturn keeps things somewhat realistic although if you refuse to see certain truths you may find things get more depressing than they needed to. try to keep your chin up! saturn brings wisdom when you work with him. that can lead to brighter times.

libra: be advised that if you've been neglecting your health in anyway it is likely to force you to deal with it this week due to the full moon conjunct saturn. and if it isn't about health it's about some aspect of your daily life, perhaps something you thought was too boring or ugly to bother about until now.

scorpio: many MANY changes are brewing in your life right now, in almost every facet of it, this week and next. fortunately you're the zodiac's alchemist, no question. don't neglect to turn the lead of this week's saturn vibes into gold, by hook or by crook. life is a spell and you are, certainly for now, the cauldron.

sagittarius: like your opposite sign gemini, you're slated to do ancestor work this week. if you're not typically the family genealogist you may find yourself deep in research or stories about your family's past. some will be good and others not so good. you will see how it affects you psychically, and find ways to heal. for you a bright light is cast on a dark shadow no one has acknowledged in a long time, in your lineage or your earliest years.

capricorn: keep a notebook or something close by this week. the astrology brings you inspirations and brilliant ideas and yet, so saturnine as the week is, if you wait too long to get it out of your head it will become too heavy to extract.

aquarius: retrogrades of your ruling planet are long and in the end just part (almost half) of the texture of life. but the one starting this week is a little unique as it occurs among many other retrogrades. furthermore the moments (days) surrounding the station either direction are typically strange. and by strange i mean not in a gradual way, but lightning bolts of things too serious to be coincidence. at the same time, the full moon in pisces cautions you against irresponsible spending or hiding your values, although it may be tempting.

pisces: a melancholy, saturnine full moon occurs in your sign this week. don't let any depressive episode drag you down, at least as well as you can help it. douse yourself in golden sunlight, and gold jewelry, and you will likely also respond very well to silver, and to music. especially if you can find something upbeat and happy to listen to (or compose!) or at least something catchy.

#astrology #transits #horoscopes #weekly horoscope #horoscope #weekly horoscopes #signs #zodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

92 notes · View notes

talesfromdvalin · 4 months

Text

NEUVILLETTE AS YOUR TEACHER

All characters are over eighteen years old, mention of other game characters, reader is the opposite to Neuvillette. No distribution allowed. Last paragraph is an unhealthy attachment and father figure also. Translate or reblog is alright, but only if you remember, that I may ask you to delete if I would not alright with your blog. Thank you. SMUT. I also do not know, why there are black symbols in pink themes... The place I will most of all.

Neuvillette subject is law.

Most likely, he works as a professor, since he himself graduated from the law faculty of the academy and worked the necessary couple of years in his specialty. After ten years as a judge, which shows us his "advanced" age, he suddenly realized that it would also be a good idea to show and tell people about the law.

Of course, he considered himself more of a "punisher", a voice of "justice", but perhaps there was something else that pushed him to make such a difficult decision as changing his qualifications. So, using his connections, paperwork was quickly turned a blind eye to, and Neuvillette was eagerly hired as a teacher. Thus, Rector Furina found herself not only an excellent "employee", but also a mouthpiece who would be treated with more respect than she was, because Furina was rather admired as a doll.

Neuvillette treated everyone the same.

He was a judge, damn it, he knows very well what extenuating circumstances are, but he finds the strength not to compromise, but to demand directly, and besides, there is nothing wrong if someone disregards the rules and tasks, because he will have to pay his debts in any case, according to the strictness of the subject. Moreover, a student's "reformed" behavior does not mean that Neuvillette will imbue him with at least a partial interest in destiny.

It's hard for Növilett to tell what interests him at all. People are always around, their lives blending into one stream, and he feels himself to be nothing more than an observer, a voice controlling the waves of fate. How did people in the process of survival come up with culture, if all they had to do was survive, and in the process they managed to explain all those phenomena that used to require the existence of God for the people's peace of mind.

Neuvillette separated himself from the "herd" and in the same way he looked within himself for reasons to be "not the same" person as everyone else. He was superfluous, but not to say that fact bothered him.

There was nothing that put the instructor out of sorts. Students could fight, argue with each other, get into a fight in class, which forced Neuvillette to try on the image of "bad daddy" and, frankly speaking, chew them up worse than in court, but it still did not affect the external and often internal indifference.

Neuvillette doesn't think about relationships until it turns out that there's a faculty member at the university who disregards the rule.

No one guessed that Professor Zhongli had a spiritual connection with a student, especially since he had an extremely large number of "followers" and respectful youth. Nothing went further than denying the rumor of this fact, no one had singled out the professor's special relationship with the girl as romantic, so as it turned out, hiding - if that was the right word - was a lot easier than it could have been. Neuvillette was disgusted by something so unfair. To think of it: a grown realized man and a child-like juvenile.

This formed a very bad reputation about Zhongli in the former judge's mind, if not disgusting, so based on that, there were often questions or misunderstandings between them. Neuvillette had to ignore the irritation for the benefit of mental state and equanimity.

Until you came along. The problem with your relationship was that you were pulling Neuvillette out of the position of 'observer', forcing him to become a participant in the daily life of the students, which was already a novelty.

Naughty girl.

Where you are, there's trouble. All the professors knew it, so you were the last thing anyone expected.

You didn't "walk" into the office with a guilty and apologetic look and an obedient request to skip class, no, you opened the door, forgetting for the thousandth time about the threshold in the classroom, and with a loud slam you fell on the cold boards. Small beads, remotely resembling the contents of a bracelet, ring, and necklace weaving kit, scattered out of the unfortunate shopper. Which meant you'd have to pick them up piece by piece. However, Neuvillette knew that would be the case.'Go to your seat,' Neuvillette sighed with a sense of doom, knowing it was a futile request, 'you can collect your beads later.

'' "Beads." It sounded so funny to follow the teacher's frowning face.For someone to steal them…?'' - you resent, rising to your knees, pulling out the box and carefully beginning to sort through the gold of the collection that had fallen out. Neuvillette stares at you for a long moment - probably ten seconds - before trying to return to the original topic of the lecture, but you beat the man to it:

''Could you help me collect them, please?'' A pure and innocent look, calm, unperturbed. He was left to guess where you got that dispassionate look on your face, considering you were literally the culprit behind the delayed lecture. You were not even a "participant" of the stream, you were as if you had created your own and were moving inside it, dancing, subverting the long-existing wave under yourself, mocking it, and Neuvillette , who was watching the flow of time, for the first time encountered something so unknown and ridiculous. While for some, this ridiculousness was alone a reason to cover their face with their hands and turn away, Neuvillette wanted to get a little closer to her… to study her.

So he sits down to help you. And he doesn't even notice the surprise in your gaze, just gratitude, while the other students try to figure out what's going on.

Neuvillette will make the first move, betraying principles.

You made him feel "wrong". You would come in, make a mess and leave Neuvillette with a strange feeling of confusion, a storm brewing in his chest. Getting into blatant conflicts with students who dared to insult your friends, establishing a reputation as a "rebel" that no one risked approaching lest they get into trouble. The other teachers often discussed in a ratty way at meetings or over lunch how tired they were of your presence in their classes, because you cared about almost nothing, and yet you managed to study for one "excellent".

You challenged the teachers, went to the blackboard to pass and tell the topics, often made fair, but not subordinate to the subordination of reproaches, say, you can not scold for the lack of a change of shoes, if you walk in winter boots with dirty soles. Neuvillette alone did not complain about the naughty behavior, because he felt a barely identifiable interest.

As the man locked his office, he noticed a clumsily leftover sheet on his desk, signed on the back, "In case you suddenly forget what you look like!"

Unfolding the present, Neuvillette raised his eyebrows in surprise when confronted with a pen-drawn copy of himself. At first he compared the fact that you'd been taking notes too enthusiastically today with the gift you'd received, and only then did he realize that this portrait… Barely resembled him. The ridiculous squint, the blotches from smudged ink, the strange attempt to draw out the dark blue strands with a purple pencil, and the jacket that greatly reduced the large shoulders…. He laughed.

''Why are you laughing…? - an indignant voice from the doorway knocked Neuvillette out of his safety rut and you out of your stealth. You were peeping, you naughty girl. The man tilted his head, remaining favorable:

''If I really look like that, I think I should do a couple of preventative lock-ups at home so I don't scare people.'' Probably anyone else would have been offended by such a comment, but you suddenly laughed infectiously, so that Neuvillette couldn't get rid of his smile now:

''Oh, please. What did I study tickets for then…?'' He won't be able to deny himself the pleasure of getting to know you better.

"It's just a healthy interest," he tells himself as he watches you eat.

"I just want to get to know her better," your raging mind convinces you.

"No one will understand her to the extent she needs, so it is my duty to rid myself of unnecessarily wasted time," Neuvillette swears, holding up young men who want to spend more time with you, or sitting them down for the purpose of "writing a quiz."

And, of course, he's nothing like Zhongli. His benevolent interest in you is explained by empathy, not carnal pleasures, and caring for you as if you were… perhaps a child! You're too young to think for yourself and care about your well-being. All the things you say and think are wonderfully sensible ideas, and there's no way Neuvillette would want to change your mind about them, but… what's wrong with him saving your time for you…? It's just a teacher's concern for a promising student.

You'll face all sorts of obstacles before you declare your love.

''Oh, of course Professor Neuvillette is great," you smile, discussing with your friend about the class you've just had, "the only teacher I don't cheat from.

''Shit, and the only teacher I don't cheat from," she sighed, "I want him to like me so much!

''Ugh, I don't know what you're talking about. Professor Neuvillette is so… old. He's probably got an exonerated son on the loose.

''Are you kidding me? Did you even see him, or did you just rub soap in your eyes?'' friend was outraged, defending her love interest. ''He looks about thirty years old, he has such huge shoulders! I saw him at the gym once, and then I was wringing my underwear.''

''Does he go to the gym?''

T''hey say he started after he left his career as a judge. Like he had nowhere else to waste his time. Besides, you can't get such a powerful body without proper exercise!'' "The instructor that female students encounter at the fitness center…" - you chuckled inwardly.

Oh, well, that's it. Neuvillette disappointedly chose not to come out from around the corner. And why should he suddenly have a "son"? And why is he "out of jail"? So in your eyes, he's dishonest? That's a shame. Neuvillette will try to change your opinion of himself before he even knows how to approach it. He'll probably be interested in "younger" clothes that he doesn't really like, but that you might like.

Of course, after you compliment him, he'll change into familiar clothes.

Because your compliment sounded like this:

"Oh, Professor Neuvillette , are you trying to be on the same page with us? Would you like me to draw you?"

And then you draw. And your drawing looks so bad that the jacket that had dragged his shoulders on the previous one suddenly goes back to casual wear.

''You're out of your mind!'' your friend held you by the elbows. ''I'm sorry, but "attending court" is practically a date!''

''What date?'' - you indignantly remove her hands from your body. ''In court? I don't know.''

''He's an ex-judge. Don't you get it?''

''He's yours, not mine to admire," you shake your head in embarrassment, "I'd give you my seat for free, but I can't. Hell, yes. Neuvillette invited you to the trial for educational purposes.

He really thought it was a good idea. In the end, you got carried away with the process, and you didn't even get to have a brief conversation about the charges…

Neuvillette leaned down to your ear, covering your mouth with his hand so no one else could hear, and whispered in a husky, even tone:

"A cheap lawyer often ruins an innocent man's reputation," he said, "because that man didn't commit the crime, but apparently can't defend himself because he was busy doing something he can't, or perhaps criminally, confess to. He has been discreetly set up."

Neuvillette presence made the other judge nervous at questions, so that they often clashed glances. It wasn't surprising in the least, but you felt as if you were strangely influenced by the defense.

"What sentence will they give him?" - you asked, also approaching the man's face in the same way.

"Depends on what sentence he gets from me."

You raise an eyebrow curiously. Apparently he was too powerful a man in the world of law, so much so that even now he had full-fledged reason to run the trial like a hidden engine running the court. Neuvillette stared straight ahead, frowning slightly. Sharp eyes, attentiveness seeping under his tongue with saliva. It was the first time the instructor was so close, your knees literally touching, and you realized what your friend was talking about, referring to the dense body and young but realized face. A plume of a rough, complex perfume also stretched from him.

Neuvillette turned his head toward you, scorching his eyes with ice and questions; is something wrong? Are you nervous? Do you want to go home? He was literally willing to do anything for you.

No rumors, but only because he has an ironclad reputation as a single loner.

He has his admirers who leave him letters with silly contents and sometimes quite dignified ones. He opened them more out of a desire not to miss something important… from you. Nervilette knew your handwriting, so a quick glance was enough before he doomedly threw the letter away.

Why is that? Neuvillette was even too ashamed of foolish hopes, dry and wrong. He had never brought up Zhongli in any way, simply because he knew his feelings were special.

Nevertheless, on one of your usual days, you asked Nyoviletta to walk you home because you suspected that the young man from the linguistics department wanted to follow where you lived, and you directly expressed your doubts about it to your teacher. Of course, he couldn't refuse, nor did he want to. But he also didn't plan on confessing his feelings, knowing that you were uncomfortable with any other guys.

Except that when you pulled the man towards you by his tie, making what must have been a Herculean effort to tilt his spine, when you openly and sincerely kissed Neuvillette on the lips, he was taken aback, not sure what kind of response to give. Is this a test of perversion? Of trust? Should Neuvillette stop you to show you that he is "different" than all your other adorers or victims. But how can you do that, considering the kiss has already dragged on for a long time while he pondered, crumpled. So Neuvilette willingly placed his palm on your waist, pulled you to him, and let the greed rush out.

You changed his world. You had taken him out of the Watchers, made him an inhabitant of your universe, and Neuvillette wanted to stay close to you.

Neuvillette doesn't consider his profession as a profession. He's the voice of the law, and no matter what position he's in, it doesn't shut his mouth. So what's the point of "leaving" office?

Dating is a complicated subject.

The very procedure of 'dating' in Neuvillette mind is solemn, meetings designed for revelations shouldn't take place in a silly place like a university, and it even, he is convinced, undervalues you as individuals.

He'll take you out to a restaurant without the slightest fear of publicity. He doesn't care whether you're a freshman or a senior. Mrs. Furina will also blindly turn a blind eye to your relationship, because she simply doesn't care what Neuvillette does, as long as she keeps all the other university professors and students in her chains. He goes to important events on her behalf, saving time, attending meetings with competitors, solving important problems. If you feed his heart and allow Neuvillette to remain a desirable faculty member, who cares?…?

Of course, most of the female students will simply envy you. A man with an extremely high salary, a luxurious panoramic property in a high-rise, who doesn't let you cry from grief or unhappiness, and who is an unyielding pillar in society, belonged to you. It was yours to use. Carrying his jackets, practically flaunting yourself as Neuvillette's future wife, for example. It all made for a very difficult impression of you as a person.

By the way, they tried to make friends with you, thinking it would help your grades, and sometimes even asked you to put in a good word, which eventually made you angry at the first mention of it. You practically learned that look of a pleading student sneaking up on you "supposedly unintentionally."

You didn't eat lunch at the same table anyway. You didn't stay after class one-on-one, respecting each other's time because each class required proper preparation. Not to say that anything changed, though you tried to keep a cool head toward Neuvillette for the first few weeks because you were nervous about the rumors that were spreading.

Neuvillette is indifferent to your absences.

If you start shamelessly skipping all his lectures and practicals at some point, he's more likely to suspect that something unambiguously bad has happened, and when he finds out that it hasn't, he'll be upset, saying, "Where did I go wrong?"

Nevertheless… keep in mind that Neuvillette will not tolerate consumerism. You'll be doing all your grades on your own. He doesn't want you to blow your brains out at such a young age by not studying.

Cheating will drive Neuvillette into an invisible frenzy.

How low did you have to fall to behave so… badly? It doesn't even have a synonym. It's bad, that's all. It's a dishonest act from the girl that Neuvillette had pinned so much hope on. It's probably his fault for leaning on your relationship almost to the fullest, using it as a reason to get up in the morning, but what else falls under his faults is "bad parenting."

That sounded awful, right?

But the fact that you went from "the only subject I'm learning" to "oh, come on, I know it anyway, it's just to save time" is his sin. Neuvillette has gone overboard with the "privileges", although he doesn't even realize what they are.

If you're the one giving the cheating, he'll zero in on the work of begging, turning a blind eye to you every probably second time, because seeing the shame and guilt on the face of the girl you love is unbearable torture (and also a profitable manipulation).

Your first sex is likely to be under the weak influence of alcohol.

Neuvillette has promised that as long as he's around, the bar is completely safe. You forced him to go with you because you saw an ad with promo codes for drinks. Your relationship had been going on for six months by then, you'd been familiarized with each other's bodies, but nothing went further than petting. Or rather, you always wanted to, asked, hinted, but the man coldly replied that you were not ready yet. You could never understand what he meant by refusing sex.

But tonight you were pecking in a special way, unbearably greedy and eager. Neuvillette felt himself the victim of your assaults - hungry kisses, nibbling, demanding thrusts and sighs. He could hardly drive you home in such a state, for it seemed to Nevileth that you would begin to satisfy yourself directly…

Oh, no, he didn't.

''What are you doing?'' distracted from driving, which you shouldn't do, the man asked, turning his head for a second and shuddering. You were stroking yourself with your skirt pulled up, clinging with one hand to the seatbelt holding your breasts down and the other to the fabric of your underwear, pulling it away and angry that there was still no way it would move aside, forcing you to enjoy the touch through your clothes. Neuvillette swallowed nervously, turning his head back to the road. Your moans kept him from concentrating on driving, and he did his best not to look at the source of the seductive sounds, but every time a red light forced him to slow down, he couldn't refuse. Moisture seeped through your underwear, and you frantically rubbed at the seat or your hand to get a release, but you couldn't because the alcohol was making your fingers too precise.

''I want you to lick me," you howled very loudly, so loudly that the neighboring driver turned his head. Neuvillette , ignoring the man's gaze, pressed the button to close the windows.

''Wait a little while.''

''Neuvillette," you moved your hips more and more demandingly, grabbing his hand that was conveniently placed on the gearbox and pulling it to your vagina, wailing unpleasantly when the man yanked it away with abandon. Your first sex happened that very night, when, unable to resist, Neuvillette changed the rules, and instead of satisfying you with his tongue alone, decided to take you with his cock for the first time. And you thought that by "not ready" he must have meant the size of his lower organ, because the first few times you had sex with him, you were sure he was going to rip you apart.

Sexual intercourse at work between the two of you occurs surprisingly often, even though immediately after Neuvillette prefers to think it didn't happen.

It's easy to ignore the fact of mussed hair and how attractive you look right after an illegally commandeered orgasm.

A man willingly pulls at the hem of your skirt or pulls down your pants because if you came in them, it meant he was going to take you tonight, belly-flipped over his desk at work.

He was very ashamed of his urges. They seemed to him simply false, that it was all a hoax, that he didn't want to change the rules, but your appearance alone could change the plans. You don't expect to have anything going on, though, because you very rarely stay late after class (or one class) is over. It all happens too suddenly and unexpectedly.

However, you shouldn't send intimate pictures when Neuvillette is at work. That's an order of… dick-raising, which is very hard to hide given the size.

Unhealthy affection is not a good thing, of course, but…

Neuvillette is slowly beginning to treat you like his daughter. It's awful, but he can't help it, and besides, he doesn't even see it as "that" bad; his caring means your integrity, and the fact that you get cocky and take advantage of it is a guarantee that you feel your own romantic happiness. He can't help but make indulgences in the learning process, though he'll give you more inhibitions than you can count.

No drinking without him.

Always account for your movements.

Not socializing with guys who harbor sympathy for you. (The third point doesn't occur because he's jealous - Neuvillette doesn't even entertain the idea that you might want to break up, here it's more like… he's not sure other men won't try to do something bad to you).

Not working (unless it's a matter of your self-actualization).

Don't smoke.

Only socialize with people who Neuvillette can at least partially trust with your "safety". Without his presence, you are understandably not safe. But he will do whatever it takes to keep you close to him.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin au #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #headcanon #drabble #smut #neuvillete x you #neuvillete x reader #neuvillete #zhongli

41 notes · View notes

x0x0josephinex0x0 · 5 months

Note

Best part, seokjin bts, mutual pining pls 🫶🏼

A/N: ok bestie this combo……I’m in love. With you and the idea. Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!!

GN! Reader x Kim Seokjin, mentions of alcohol and drinking, drunk kiss, Christmastime?? Not proofread. Sorry!!

Your eyelids flutter open gently to a room flooded with the white-gold light of morning. Everything is as you left it last night — your head is still resting on your arms at the coffee table, your purse and coat are still on the floor, a few empty bottles of various types of alcohol are still littering the counter, and Kim Seokjin is still curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

And as you look at him -- messy black hair falling over his forehead, big eyes shut, those perfect lips parted ever so slightly in a dream -- you know that no amount of alcohol could erase last night from your memory.

Nothing had happened. Nothing ever really happened between you and Seokjin, but for the past six months, all of that nothing had started to feel awfully like something. That was the earliest you could trace back the phenomena of Seokjin being the first thought in your head when you woke up, which had started as an occasional thing and had progressed into an everyday one.

Before then, Seokjin had been just another member of your friend group, a tight-knit squad of varying careers and interests who'd all been friends since college. You'd always liked him -- he was smart and kind and funny, always willing to participate in any of the antics of other members of the group and always making sure everyone was taken care of -- but it hadn't got beyond that until Christmastime.

Specifically, the Christmas Dance Battle Challenge.

This yearly tradition was one of your absolute least favorite parts of Christmas with your friends. You were decidedly not a dancer, but you played along because you saw how happy it made your other friends. The rules were simple: on December 1st, each person draws a number, and whoever draws the same number is their partner. Each number coincides with a song, which is the song the two of you have to learn the dance for by the time of the annual Christmas Eve-Eve (two days before Christmas) party. There would be a group vote after everyone had performed, and the winning pair got a prize -- usually a gift card each and a bottle of wine -- that the rest of the group had to pitch in to buy.

So, on December 1st, you had gathered. You had drawn #2 with Seokjin, and the song had been Bite Me by New Jeans. And the two of you had met up the next day to discuss "the strategy", which was what Seokjin had called it, clueing you into something you didn't realize about him: Seokjin was competitive.

"Alright," he'd said, pacing in front of you like a general in front of his troops right before battle. "This year I have it on good authority that the prize will be a gift card to my favorite restaurant, and I have to defend my winning title from last year, so this has to be good. How confident are you?"

"Uhhh..." you'd stuttered, and Seokjin had paused in front of you to flick your forehead lightly. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Now is not the time for insecurities," he'd told you. "You hold yourself back from true greatness every year, I've watched you. But you have amazing potential. And now, I will be the one who releases this butterfly from their cocoon."

He was speaking seriously, and yet there was a way that his mouth turned up at the corners that made you realize that it was mostly an act. So you'd grinned at him hesitantly, and he'd clapped. "That's the spirit! Now, I need to know your schedule so I can put together a rehearsal timeline."

You'd practiced twice a week with Seokjin, and his positive encouragement meant that your dancing skills improved markedly during that time. And you were also enjoying getting to know Seokjin, whose goofy humor and gentle teasing eased your normally-anxious mind. He calmed you, and brought out a more energetic, less timid side of you that you didn't even know existed. Being around him was as easy as breathing. In time, you even found it within you to tease him back as you learned the moves to the dance. Things were going so well.

And then, the "dress rehearsal" on December 17th.

Only a minute in to the practice, Seokjin paused the music. "I swear I didn't mess it up, Seokjin," you growled at him, "and I know, because I made a point to flick my foot specifically like you said --"

"That's not it," he complained, stopping your words with a finger. "There's not enough passion."

“Huh?” you said.

He strode over to you, stopping well inside your personal space bubble and looking down at you. “Do you think I’m handsome?” he asked you.

Your eyes had gotten wide and you’d blushed. “You -- what?”

“Answer the question,” he’d said with a half-smile and an eyebrow raised.

“Well, of course,” you’d stammered. Because he was -- tall and broad-shouldered, confident and self-assured, with that sardonic smile and those eyes that were as sweet and warm as the caramel cinnamon syrup you liked in your coffee. You’d always known he was handsome, but it wasn’t until this moment that you’d realized just how beautiful he was. He was perfect, really.

“So, why do you act like you’re scared to touch me?” he asked you, amused.

Unbeknownst to you, Seokjin was fighting to keep his very real frustration out of his voice. Because for the past month you’d been teasing him without even realizing it. He was addicted to your secret humor, admired the way you were so thoughtful and considerate to your shared group of friends, and couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you were. He’d been feeling this way since you’d met, secretly praying every year that you’d get partnered up for the dance competition, but only this year had the prayer been answered. And while it had been thrilling so far -- Seokjin was learning there was almost no line he wouldn’t cross to hear your laugh, especially when it was because of him -- he was also discouraged at the lack of real progress. His first concern was that if he said anything to you about his feelings, you’d be too polite to turn him down, and he hated to put you in a situation like that -- but he’d started to wonder, with all the times he caught you staring, if he might have more hope than he started with.

So it was time for him to take hold of his destiny, he supposed. When he wrapped an arm around your waist, you gasped a little, and Seokjin had to grit his teeth to keep himself from becoming a giggling mess. He pulled you gently into him. “Have you ever danced with a man before?” he asked you.

Blushing furiously, you shook your head no. He nodded, lifting one of your hands in his own. “Follow my lead,” he’d said, and with your hips touching, he waltzed you around the room.

You were surprised at how quickly you were able to relax into his arms, especially because your whole body felt tingly and electric where it met with his skin. Seokjin led you through a short waltz that had the whole room spinning treacherously around you, forcing you to look at him. His eyes seemed to swallow you whole in their warmth, and there was something unspoken and magnetic in them that threatened to overwhelm you. Finally, he slowed to a stop, but didn’t let go of you. “Feel that?” he asked in a whisper, his eyes searching your face.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

He let go of you then, taking a step back. The sudden distance between the two of you left you feeling a bit cold, and you shivered. “That’s the energy we need to channel,” he said, turning away from you -- because this was the only way he knew how not to kiss you when you looked at him like that.

The rest of the practice had gone smoothly, but that was the first night you dreamed of Seokjin. And the first morning you woke up thinking of him. Little did you know, he was waking up that same morning thinking of you, too.

And you’d won the dance contest, without much of a competition. “I didn’t know you had that in you,” your friends had told you. “I mean, the chemistry?”

“Thanks,” you’d said, meeting eyes with Seokjin and blushing. “I had a really good partner.”

You’d assume things would go back to normal -- back to how they were before -- but Seokjin still texted you every day, just about different things. You ended up at his apartment a couple times without any of your other friends present, all for regular friendly activities like movies and video game nights, and he’d never made a move, always the picture of manners and thoughtfulness. And you had fun together, laughing more than you’d ever laughed with anyone. But the feelings that had awakened when he was standing so near to you had only grown, resulting in every morning being flooded with memories of him -- his smile, the smell of him, even the goofy pajamas he wore on occasion when you’d come over.

You hadn’t told him anything about this for several reasons. The main one was of course that you were friends now, and whatever else existed between you, you really enjoyed being around him. The fear that all of that would evaporate like a stray bit of smoke was 90% of the reason you stayed silent.

The other 10% was that you knew if you let yourself fall for him, there was a possibility that it wouldn’t work out, and you weren’t entirely sure how you’d survive that level of heartbreak.

So you’d let it be what it was for six whole months — from December to June, you had ached for Kim Seokjin in the same way as a carefully concealed wound. Sometimes, if you moved a certain way, it hurt worse — like during movie nights when his arm extended over the back of the sofa, but never quite around your shoulders. And sometimes it was barely there, like in late hours of the night when your quiet conversations had fizzled out and you were sitting in comfortable silence together. But still it remained, becoming clear to you at some indistinguishable moment that it wasn’t ever going to go away.

And then yesterday the call had come. “Hey,” he’d said. “What are your evening plans?”

“I’m pretty open. Why?” You hated the way your heart took off at the question, but it was hard when he phrased it in such a date-like way.

“Did you use your gift card?” he asked, referring to the one you’d both won as the prize for the dance competition.

“No, I didn’t.” You waited.

“We should go there tonight,” Seokjin recommended. “I can pick you up. Is seven okay?”

The whole day had been a terrible waiting game. The hours crawled by at a sloth’s pace, refusing to show much progress no matter how often you checked your watch. You’d gotten ready at 5, and it had somehow taken you only a half hour, so you were stuck waiting for another hour and a half before the knock finally came at your apartment door.

When you opened it, your jaw dropped. He looked like a prince in a blue suit with a crisp white shirt, his hair pushed up off his forehead. He’d held out the bouquet in his hands. “Um, hello,” he said, an endearing nervousness coloring his tone. “You look…really nice.”

You’d tucked a stray hair behind your ear with a jittery hand. “Thanks,” you’d replied. “Why the flowers?”

“Oh,” he’d said, like he’d just remembered them, although he was still holding them out to you. “They’re a thank you. For helping me win.”

“You really didn’t have to,” you said, taking them from him. “I had a lot of fun with you. And I’m glad we were able to get closer because of it.”

Was that a hint of a blush on his cheeks?

But he simply smiled, offering you his arm. “Let’s go.”

And dinner had turned into drinks, which had turned into drunk Seokjin. He was similar to regular Seokjin, just louder and less filtered, and though you were tipsy yourself, you knew better than to let him try and get home on his own. Not knowing what else to do, you’d brought him back to your place, letting him down gently onto the couch.

“Hey,” he’d said in a scolding tone as you stood up to stumble into your own bed. “Why are you leaving me?”

“It’s okay,” you told him. “You’re at my place. You’re safe.”

He’d reached up, then — and on your wobbly legs it was impossible to resist his surprisingly strong grip. You fell right into his lap, your hands finding purchase on the fabric of his shirt, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He spent only a second looking at your stunned face through hazy eyes, admiring the tint of pink the alcohol lent to your nose and cheeks and the way your brows knit so adorably in nerves and worry, before he leaned in closer and pressed a soft, slow, entirely overwhelming kiss to your lips.

You couldn’t help it. You twisted your fingers around his shirt and returned the kiss, knowing with a pang of agony that this could be the one and only chance you had. You tried to say everything you couldn’t put into words with the kiss, caressing his face with the hand not holding his shirt and finally allowing yourself to feel all the feelings you’d been hopelessly trying to ignore that grew stronger and stronger the longer your lips were locked. The kiss cemented Seokjin firmly into his position as the first person you could ever remember loving like this.

And then he was the first to pull away. He frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to do that while drunk. Wanted it to be more…romantic. Special. But…”

“Yeah?” you’d whispered.

He’d fixed you with a bleary gaze. “If you love me, won’t you say something?”

And then he’d fallen asleep.

You watch him now — the sunlight turning his brown hair slightly auburn, the soothing rhythm of his breathing. And you know you’ll need to talk when he wakes up. But for right now, you let yourself reach across the short distance to move his waves off his face so you can see him better. “Beautiful,” you whisper.

As you let your hand drop, his hand shoots up to your wrist. “Hmm?” he hums at you, blinking awake. “What was that?”

Your heart is beating in your throat, but you know you have to ask. “What do you remember from last night?”

He closes one eye to try and focus. Then he realizes. “Oh, I am so sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

“No really,” he says, sitting up. “That…shouldn’t have happened the way it did.”

And you’re not sure what he means by that, but it’s almost to the point that you don’t even care anymore. So you shake your head and take your hand in his, preparing to be the boldest you’ve ever been in your life.

“Seokjin, you should know...that when you hold me, and kiss me slowly, it’s the sweetest thing.”

His jaw drops. And you continue, “I’ve felt this way forever. And all of the time we spent together has only made it worse. Because no matter what we’re doing, you’re the best part.”

You wait for him to respond, but he seems lost for words. Finally he chokes out, “you’re the sunshine of my life.”

Your face splits into a massive grin. “You want coffee, babe?” you ask him.

“You’re the only coffee I need,” he replies, looking at you like one looks at the stars — awed and reverent and overwhelmed all at once

#bts kim seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin fluff #seokjin imagine #bts fluff #BTS imagine #the astronaut #seokjinnie #seokjin #seokjin fic #request game

27 notes · View notes

reimeichan · 4 months

Note

How did you all figure out you were a system? -🪭

It depends on who you're asking.

For Purple, she was always open to the idea that the world had a lot of unexplainable phenomena that our current knowledge of science and stuff may not be able to address. When we were 12, she was looking online for ways to flesh out OCs, and one of the suggestions was to talk to said OC as if you were giving them an interview. So she asked said "OC" some questions and had him answer them. "What's your favorite color?" she asked. "Gray," I said. "No, that's wrong! I made you, I know your favorite color is green! I put it down on your character sheet!" she said back. I shrugged, and, confused, replied back, "It's definitely gray, I don't know what to tell you." And in that moment she knew she shared a brain with another entity, though she dared not label her experiences as DID at the time.

For Green, in high school he had joined a new online community who noted how his personality would occasionally just *drastically* shift. This personality shift was due to him and Purple switching at the time, and Purple, already in the know, would end up telling this new community how they likely had some sort of "multiple personality" thing going on but would never presume for it to be DID without a proper diagnosis. Those words alone were enough for Green to realize that Purple truly was a separate identity from him, and though he was shocked at first, he and Purple really leaned into the "multiple personalities", even giving themselves different halves of our online username at the time.

For me... well, I'm a fusion of a few parts. One part of me, the Gray that Purple met and mistook for an OC, knew around the same time as her. I was in denial for much longer, but constant pestering from her made me finally accept that she and I were at least separate consciousnesses within the same brain.

Another part of me was blissfully unaware until we nearly died in 2020. I won't go into detail how it happened, but it was sudden and out of nowhere, and though nobody was too greatly injured, the shock was enough for me to fully dissociate away from the situation. However, we still needed someone to actually be in the body and move it around, so out of desperation our gatekeeper (the "mistaken for OC Gray") pushed out the first alter he could find... and that happened to be Rouge, our sexual alter. Let me just paint the picture here real quick: I've told everyone around me that I'm asexual, somewhat sex-repulsed, and had no plans to ever be sexual with anyone. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I'm on Tinder witht the sluttiest profile I can muster up, swiping right on anyone and everyone who I even remotely may be interested in a one-night hookup. All because I nearly died. I woke up in the morning to hundreds of matches and even a planned fuckdate. All of this, might I remind you all of the timing, in the middle of a pandemic that we at the time did not have a vaccine for yet. Horrified by what I found in the morning, I canceled the fuckdate, deleted my account, and uninstalled the app.

And though that was still not enough for me to accept I have DID, that sure did open some doors.

Then, in 2022, my then-partner and I had a long talk. They were getting tired of my memory issues and no amount of writing things down seemed to be enough for them. I seemed to have incredibly inconsistent and even contradictory boundaries that they couldn't keep track of. I blamed everything on my ADHD, of course. I didn't have amnesia, other than what I assumed were short term memory issues to the point I may have missed something they said 5 minutes ago. "Oh, sorry, I was spacing out," I would say. Eventually she got so fed up that she said, "you never space out when we're having fun conversations! it's only when you're stressed out because I'm pointing out things you've done badly that you tend to space out!"

And I went. Oh. Fuck.

That's not spacing out.

Slapped in the face with the reality that I wasn't simply "spacing out" from ADHD unfocus but due to some kind of dissociation, and given the ultimatum that if I didn't change then they would break up with me, I was forced to sit on those feelings and really dig into why I was so dissociative, so forgetful, and so inconsistent. And I knew the reason, I did, but I couldn't get myself to admit to it. God, it couldn't be me. I tried so hard to convince myself that the disorder I had on-and-off considered my entire life didn't apply to me, that maybe I was misunderstanding the diagnostic criteria, or I was misinterpreting my symptoms, or that I somehow had convinced myself I had these symptoms because I wanted them to feel... special? Validated? I don't know.

I found myself a therapist who had a long history of working with dissociative and trauma clients. She helped me unravel a lot of those feelings of shame and denial. She used a few different tools to eventually diagnose me with DID. She validated my experiences, and helped me through so much initial stabilization that I'm so very grateful for her help those first 10 months.

So, yeah. That's how we found out we have DID.

#did #dissociative identity disorder #actually did #actuallydid #did osdd #osddid #cdd #personal #by gray #about green #about purple #we've been meaning to write this for a long time #so thank you for the ask #the-bumblebee-system #the bumblebee system

23 notes · View notes

pkmn-lillie · 9 months

Text

TOTK AU idea!! spoilers for the ending of the game!!!

so you know how Zelda got un-dragon-ed by Sonia and Rauru at the end. what if it didn't work right? like, it only *mostly* reverses the draconification, so zelda has horns and a tail and spikes and scales, all that fun shit. But where did all that extra energy go?

It went to the other three dragons, who are now hanging around in hylian-adjacent forms in Hyrule (or the Depths ;)) and having fun/making trouble. I'm going to posit that they didn't start out as mortals like Zelda, so they have more memories of being dragons, unlike Zelda who was 'sleeping'. Also I'm bringing Ganondorf back, but getting exploded has knocked a lot of memories out of his head.

While the defeat of the Demon King has slowed the Blood Moon phenomena and greatly reduced the number of monsters on the surface, it has correlated with a surge in monsters and stalfos in the Depths, making it incredibly difficult to traverse, even by the Yiga. the Gloom has also disappeared from the surface, and only pockets of it remain within the Depths.

Because both Zelda and Link are trying to recuperate and manage the kingdom (and her new body,) they don't find out about this development until a few months after the defeat of the Demon King.

I've been alternating between he/they/she pronouns for all the dragons btw, i don't think they'd particularly care. (all three of the dragons are also wearing their respective armor set for convenience)

More on the dragons below the cut

FAROSH:

They are the tallest of the trio, (3.5m) and also bear the most resemblance to a Gerudo voe.

I have no way to describe his hair other than that it's Gotenks hair. Their hair conveniently sticks up like their horn.

Prefers one-handed weapons and shields.

He wakes up on the shores of Rassla Lake, heads to Tuft Mountain to get the lay of the land, and runs into Bolson.

Farosh: my name is Farosh.

Bolson: like the dragon?

Farosh: ??? of course???

I don't think anyone would immediately clock her as being The Thunder Dragon, just some weird Gerudo who chases off all the pirates.

They don't go to Gerudo Town because she gets mistaken for a voe by a stable attendant, and he misunderstands it as 'dragons aren't allowed'

NAYDRA:

They have the smallest stature, and besides the dragon features he also has a variety of malice scars (a la botw) and feathers (for flavor).

She also has the longest hair, like a waterfall, and white/light blue in color.

Prefers bows and wands/staves.

He initially patrols Mount Lanayru and slowly starts interacting with Kakariko, Hateno, and the Zora as a 'lone wolf monster exterminator'.

I think she would be the first one that Link & Zelda would learn about, and the least cooperative (they don't want to leave their territory.)

I think that their horns would look a bit different than the frostbite headdress, having three large separate spikes with smaller shards in between.

DINRAAL:

Poor Dinraal got their legs while they were in the Depths, and being unable to fly means that he's just kinda stuck down there-- not like she's complaining!

Dinraal is the most muscular of the dragons, and his skin has a rocky texture where it's not covered by scales. Their skin tone is also notably grayer than a normal Hylian.

His hair is very curly, in red/orange/yellow hues, and she keeps it tied back with a metal band.

Prefers two-handed weapons and hammers.

They are the one who finds the returned Ganondorf, who is stumbling through the Depths trying to avoid dying (he is bad at it, because he's lost most of his memories: Dinraal saves him.) She takes him under their metaphorical wing, and tries to teach him how to be the wielder of the triforce of power *without* becoming corrupted by Demise.

thank you for coming to my ted talk. if you want to write/draw anything from this, just tag me because i wanna see 🥺

#farosh #dinraal #naydra #light dragon #tears of the kingdom #tears of the kindom spoilers #tears of the kingdom au #totk #totk au #totk spoilers

36 notes · View notes

kyokasuiigetsu · 2 years

Text

They did Orihime so dirty in the anime. They left everything out and turned her into the damsel in distress trope and that is just not what happened at all. Like, yes she had almost no offensive power in the beginning, and she is the defacto healer, but her character development in the manga is so good and so glaringly obvious and in your face. I literally dont know how people dislike her. Orihime is actually one of the best and most multifaceted nuanced characters ever, and she doesnt get enough love or credit for everything she did for Ichigo (and by extension soul society and their friends) without question. Unwavering loyalty, even when they questioned if she had gone to Hueco Mundo of her own volition, after the soul society arc wanting to get stronger so she can protect everyone too, so she doesnt have to look at Ichigo's back while he protects her, so they can fight shoulder to shoulder, even though she cant fathom the enemy that they're going up against, even though Tatsuki gets her soul damn near sucked out, even though Chad's arm gets ripped off right in front of her eyes and all she does is immediately step forward to use her powers to reject and reverse his injury. She watches Chad get his arm ripped clean off and then tries to fight against a monster 8 times her size, because she doesnt want to buy time until Ichigo arrives anymore, she wants to fight too! We dont acknowledge that she is a 15 year old girl being threatened with the lives of all the people she cares about if she doesnt accompany Ulquiorra to Hueco Mundo, and this girl has no family left, her friends are her family. Her absolute unshakable faith that at least Ichigo, if not all of their friends would come for her no matter the risk. (Six hearts will beat as one) WHY DOES NO ONE FUCKING TALK ABOUT THE MOMENT SHE IS HAVING HER OWN POWER SPECULATED ON BY AIZEN, SHE REALIZES IF HER POWER IS THE ABILITY TO REJECT PHENOMENA, THAT SHE IS GOING TO TRY AND DESTROY THE HOGYOKU BY REJECTING ITS VERY EXISTENCE? THAT IS ONE OF THE MOST GIRLBOSS MOVES IN ALL EXISTING MEDIA. We dont talk about how fucking down for Ichigo she is in that moment in his fight with Grimmjow, when she is afraid of him, afraid of the hollow inside him, afraid that he will be lost to it like her big brother was and have his soul consumed, about how the second she decided he was still Ichigo, and he always would be that Ichigo was able to pull out the win. We dont talk about how the boy she loved got murdered right in front of her eyes by her kidnapper and manipulator, and in that moment calling out for him to protect her was more powerful than death. Ichigo was only able to use his hollow powers like that without losing himself (and he almost did) to them BECAUSE it was at Orihime's explicit request. Orihime deserves everything, she is the ultimate ride or die and not just for Ichigo, for everyone she cares about, and even for the people who dont deserve it. She healed those two arrancar women who were beating her to a pulp after Grimmjow busted in and ripped them apart, one even called her a monster as she was healing her because she didnt understand how Orihime could be so selfless in the face of such violence directed at her. She calls Orihime a monster because she herself is a monster and cant understand someone like Orihime that will help anyone with no bias just because it's the right thing to do. Orihime is literally the best fucking character and you cannot change my mind. So much of BLEACH is about the words, the feeling, the symbolism, and Orihime brings something to BLEACH that despite all the amazing dialogue and intense feelings and amazing battles, other characters at their best just don't bring to the series for me. She was the most underpowered, uninformed character just thrown into the middle of a literal supernatural war all because she wanted to do the right thing and help her friends and the boy she loved.

#wow #i am sorry #rant over #but seriously #orihime is such a bad bitch #she is everything to me #her character development in the manga compared to the anime is just #bleach #bleach manga #orihime inoe #ichigo kurosaki #manga vs anime #aizen sousuke #ulquiorra #tite kubo knew what he was doing #studio perriot didnt know shit #inoue orihime

289 notes · View notes

lazyyogi · 2 years

Text

How to Begin a Daily Meditation Practice

There are seemingly endless techniques for practicing meditation and just as seemingly endless reasons to take up a meditation practice. This post, however, will assume two things.

You have already decided that you would benefit from a daily meditation practice.

You have chosen a technique.

At this point, as a beginner, any technique is fine to start out. My advice is to choose one and stick to it for at least a month before trying something different. Most meditation techniques involve applying attention in combination with a support for that attention: a visualization, a mantra, a sensation, etc.

But how should you approach meditation as a beginner? How can you begin such that you don't become frustrated or feel like you're doing it wrong? And how can you give yourself the best chance to grow a daily practice? That's what we are going to discuss here.

So let's begin.

Technique versus Goal

Learning how to meditate is like learning how to do a yoga pose.

When people see certain yoga poses, they say “I’m not flexible enough to do yoga.” And when they think about meditation, they say “I can’t sit still that long,” or “My mind has too many thoughts for something like that.”

All of that is like saying you are too weak to lift weights. This is literally why you are doing yoga or meditation!

It is important to emphasize for a yoga beginner that one grows into poses, not forced into. Certain physical adjustments are made to allow for the most appropriate alignment. For example, if you can't touch your toes without rounding your back, then you are told to bend your knees until you can touch your toes. Then you relax into the stretch. This way, instead of meaninglessly contorting your body into a position, you are receiving the benefits the pose is intended to confer.

The body will naturally find its way into that pose more and more as flexibility and strength increases with practice. Throughout the process the practitioner should focus on proper alignment, full breaths, and relaxing any unnecessary tensions.

This is very similar to meditation. While silent peaceful sitting is the eventual outcome of the practice, it is not where your focus should be. If you practice the technique appropriately, the silence will happen on its own in time. Just like the yoga pose.

Technique Leads to the Goal

For a meditation beginner, your concern should be first on finding the correct position for your attention in terms of the technique and then the right balance of focus and relaxation. After that, you need to bring your attention back to the technique every time you realize your mind has wandered.

That process of bringing your attention back over and over is part of the meditation practice and process. If you catch your mind wandering, it does not mean you have messed up. You do not need to judge or scold yourself. Just re-orient your attention back to the practice. There will come a point in which your mind will simply stop wandering off. This is not because you are forcing your mind to stay in one place. It is because your mind has settled down comfortably and wakefully.

It can take weeks, months, or years to get to that point but it doesn't matter. It is the process of getting there that gives you the typical benefits of meditation. You grow patience, peace, spontaneous love and joy, and an unexpected sense of tranquil sacredness along the way.

Thinking versus Having Thoughts

Once the mind starts settling down, you will discover something: there is a difference between thinking and having thoughts. Actively thinking means you are engaging in the mental phenomena and following them down a train of thoughts. Whereas having thoughts simply means that something pops into your head. If you don’t think about those thoughts further, they simply disappear the same way they appeared.

So as you settle down in your meditation practice, you will realize that thoughts still pop up even when you aren't actively thinking. What was happening before was that you were following those thoughts down avenues of contemplation or imagination, and over time you settled down and stopped doing so. However, those thoughts still pop up even now.

What do you do about this phenomenon of 'having thoughts'? Nothing.

You let the thoughts pop up and then disappear; just remain focused within the meditation technique you are practicing. Some of those thoughts may seem random, others may be repressed memories or subconscious emotions. You could call them karmas or imprints. If you let them come and go without reacting to them, they get released. Sometimes they pop up many times before they stop coming.

This phase of practice is like turning off a ceiling fan. The fan continues to spin for a while before it becomes still. Let the fan stop on its own.

Another metaphor is that this phase is like a glass of water with dirt all churned up inside it. If you try to force the dirt to settle at the bottom, you will just stir it up more. But if you just sit and are patient, the dirt will settle at the bottom on its own.

Thoughts versus Emotions

This whole time I have been talking about thoughts but you could say the same thing for emotions. During meditation, very powerful emotions can suddenly arise. Burning anger, harrowing sadness, great fear, alluring sensuality. Treat all emotions the same as I have been saying for thoughts. No pushing or pulling, let them come and go. And if they stick around for the whole meditation session, that's fine too.

Thoughts and feelings arise as part of the purifying process; the mind-body defragmenting half-baked neural pathways.

Daily Practice

Now that we discussed the typical beginner's experience with meditation, let's address some quick technical aspects of cultivating a daily practice.

Pick a reliable time of day. When I was in college, I liked meditating at the end of the day because that's when all of my obligations were over and I had time to myself. When I was in medical school, I switched to meditation in the morning before breakfast because I had no idea how tired I may be by the end of the day.

It can be helpful to pair your meditation practice with an activity. For example, meditating every night before you brush your teeth. By pairing the activity to a daily routine you already have in place, you can use that routine to help support your new meditation practice.

Start small. It is more important to meditate daily than it is to meditate for a long time. Meditating five minutes per day is superior to meditating for three hours once a week. If you notice yourself skipping sessions, reduce your sitting time until you get into a regular groove.

Grow the practice. If you begin with 5 minutes a day, give yourself two weeks of daily sessions to develop a sense of confidence. Then increase by 5 minutes. Work your way up every 2-4 weeks by adding another five minutes. A 30 minute session is a nice solid daily practice for the average Joe just trying to manage stress and feel more peaceful. If you're seeking enlightenment, aim for an hour a day.

To Summarize:

Common obstacles for beginners includes a wandering mind, feelings of boredom, or sudden powerful emotions. There’s nothing to analyze or do about any of that, and in fact doing so can make things more confusing and sticky. Bring your attention back to the focus of the meditation and don’t try to push some of these things away or get fixated on other things.

To develop a daily practice, pair your meditation sessions with a routine and time of day you can rely upon. Start small and grow your duration slowly over time. And if you catch yourself skipping sessions, scale back the time.

Give it a go and let me know if you have any questions 😁

May all beings be free!

#meditation #spirituality #yoga #zen #mindfulness

378 notes · View notes

thatstonedwriter · 7 months

Text

Loona's Long Nose Post

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: This is a crack piece based on a prompt I've been talking with an anon about. If you want the context, check out the Loona's Long Nose Post tag. Hope y'all can tolerate my attempts at humor. I also decided to expand the prompt a bit and add some fluff. I know the anon originally asked for a fem reader but I ended up keeping it gender neutral.

Content; platonic crack, fluff, gender neutral, no pronouns

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At first, you thought nothing of it. Some new structure in the distance; it looked almost like a telephone pole. At least.. You could've sworn it was. But why did it keep getting taller?

It wasn't long until you decided to investigate. Trying to find the source was like looking for the end of a rainbow. Whatever it was, it was getting tall enough to rival the buildings of Imp City.

After a while of navigating the city, you start getting closer, zeroing in on the source of this strange phenomena. You race through the sketchy alleyways and dank tunnels. Then you turn a corner to see..

"Loona?!"

"Agh- Fuck!!"

Loona's looking up- she has to, because she needs to balance her nose- wait, that's what you've been chasing after all day?!

"How and why-"

"It's been like this all fucking day! Some dumbass kids thought it would be funny to cast a spell or some shit- ugh," She stumbles, managing to catch herself. "I'm gonna fucking kill them!" Loona screams, attempting to kick a nearby trashcan.

Unfortunately, due to the sheer fucking length of her nose, Loona lost her balance. She'd expected to hit the ground. She would've preferred to hit the ground. Instead, she has to deal with the humiliation of doing that Michael Jackson lean because her nose is propped up on a nearby building. And that only made things worse..

"What do I do," Loona groans. She stumbles back, regaining her balance with your assistance, and decides to sit with her back against the wall. She leans her head back, wincing. "Fuck, its killing my neck too. Would you uh.. mind helping me out..?"

She's hesitant, not wanting to seem selfish. Loona hasn't been used to asking for favors or being vulnerable, but you've changed that. Not to say Loona doesn't appreciate her other friends, but it's not exactly the same. Millie's usually preoccupied with Moxxie or spending more time with Blitzø. Blitzø is.. A whole other thing entirely. You're the first friend who has put in this much time, effort, and care.

She understands if you're not comfortable with initiating physical contact. Your company was already enough to start making her feel more relaxed.

"Hey.. Seems like your nose is uh.. going back to normal," you say. And it's true! Slowly but surely, at least.

"Yeah, not fast enough," Loona rolls her eyes- and sees her nose start to grow again. "Oh come on!!"

"Wait wait wait! I think.. Maybe the spell is activated when you're upset, and deactivated when you relax.. "

"Seriously, you're just guessing that?"

"Yeah, so? We're working with limited information, here."

Loona rolls her eyes, huffing and combing her hands through her hair. "Well how do you suppose I relax with.. This," she gestures to her nose, giving you a (dare I say) bombastic side eye.

"I dunno. Let's just distract you.. Do you have music or anything? Or want to talk?"

Whatever it was, your methods worked. While Loona still had some.. Flare ups.. She's been managing to keep her nose from getting too long.

It's definitely not easy, but that's why she's glad she has you.

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #loona x reader #platonic #helluva boss headcanon #crack fic #loona helluva boss #loona's long nose post #Ngl I'm pretty insecure about this one #But I've been going through re editing and drafting #So I hope it's alright #request #writings.onthe.wall

24 notes · View notes

lorei-writes · 5 months

Text

Expedition Bluff

Sariel x OC (Oliver; @olivermorningstar 's OC) Fluff Word Count: ~1k

My half for the trade with @olivermorningstar ... and my first go at writing Sariel >:)

Oliver nearly falls over, although his glasses are lost just as they would be if he found himself on the ground. He freezes, unsure of what unnatural force prevents his collapse, to then realise he can attach not only a name, but also a face to its vectors. Sariel holds Oliver firmly until his balance is regained.

Snow. Abroad it somehow falls differently.

Oliver turns his eyes towards the skies clad in angry clouds, dark and wiry like a yet untreated wool. He breathes in deeply, to slowly release his frustrations in a crystallised mist. The unspoken words cling onto him, however, frozen drops holding onto his scarf as if begging him to reconsider letting them go. Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t know when to stop working, do you?” he sighs.

At the very least Sariel is not as indifferent as to ignore the remark. “It was necessary.”

Necessary. It is always necessary. But Oliver cannot agree with that, not based on what he has seen thus far.

“And no diplomats could have been sent to Achroite instead? Or are you going to tell me that they have time off to, you know… celebrate? Back in Rhodolite?”

“If I do recall correctly, a certain royal scientist has submitted the request to study Achroite’s fauna in winter at an incredibly convenient notice. Of his own volition.” Sariel crosses his arms.

“You know it is not about that.”

Crunch. It truly is different abroad.

Achroitian winters are harsh, much harsher than anything Oliver has ever witnessed before. Ever since their arrival, the snow has hardly ceased to fall – a phenomena probably made worse by how far north they’ve wandered. It doesn’t take long for him to imagine them both being stuck there until at the very least early spring. And for what? That, that Oliver is yet to see, provided that he is to see it at all. The problem is the if at all, or perhaps the fact that in a completely white, yet perfectly drenched in darkness, world, there is little there for him to distract him from the matter.

Oliver buries his nose deeper into his scarf. It hurts. His face seems to have frozen over, his muscles refusing to obey by his commands. It is a miracle that Sariel appears unaffected; that, he should study that. His official reason for the expedition was, after all, a bluff. Not that he can think about it for long – his very own breath fogs his glasses up. Nevertheless, he continues to walk, to walk, to walk… What could be there in this plain nowhere for him to trip over and fall? He just needs to move forward and he will be fine.

Provided that Sariel does not stop.

Which he does.

“You have my glasses?” Comes a murmur.

“I do.”

“Give them back. You may not need yours, but I’m rather blind now. Not that there’s much to see here,” Oliver snickers.

“Why should I? You have just said there is not much to see here. Keep your face in the scarf, we’re almost at our destination.”

“But —”

“But?” Sariel echoes, his voice the sole present sound. He entwines his fingers with Oliver’s, begins to walk. “You have also said that I don’t need mine. Who am I to argue with science?”

“You,” Oliver laughs, or much rather, attempts to suppress a laugh. His shoulders shake below layers of sweaters, a coat, and scarves.

“Yes?”

“Nothing.” There would be no point in revealing things that have nowhere to hide in this here and now.

As much as his vision may be a blurry ghost of itself, Oliver’s other senses sharpen, mould themselves into shapes previously unachieved to compensate for the key element that’s been lost. He hears every insulated crunch produced by crushed snow, every breath, every hum and chocked down groan; he hears the struggle disguised in languid motion, feels the tension straining Sariel’s hand. Not even the most minute of twitches goes unnoticed – and that, precisely that, is why Oliver cannot comprehend why they are in Achroite and not in Rhodolite.

It is only the instinct of a researcher to seek that which remains unknown. “Sariel… Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, love. Have you not done enough?”

“I have a reason to work.”

“And is it that important? Really? To work even now?”

Sariel’s grip tightens, just shy of causing pain. He stays quiet for a breath longer than he’d usually allow himself, clearly weighing his words with upmost care, considering whether now he could slither out of the conversation, and yet… “Yes. Now more than ever,” he admits, albeit with an unusual dose of timid reluctance. “And you should know why better than anybody else.”

Oliver does not argue, phantom warmth caressing his cheek as the conclusion becomes obvious to him.

“I will still worry.”

“Do. I will not always fight this much. You’ve harnessed the devil, after all.”

Oliver snorts, “Fine, fine! Fine! Let’s just hurry up and eat dinner before my toes fall off!”

Snow… It indeed feels different in Achroite.

***

Fire buzzes within the hearth, little different from a healthy bee hive. Oliver turns his eyes towards the window, a hot tea mug cradled in his hands. He lifts his gaze, however, a shadow obscuring his view to drape a blanket over his shoulder and to join him over the couch. Sariel has discarded his gloves. A rare sight.

“Now more than ever,” he sighs to then cup Oliver’s face, a thousand promises, questions, declarations and threats running through his violet eyes.

“I understand.” Oliver sets the cup down. He returns the gesture, although his lids shut. There is no need to read into his mind – he has made his intentions clear long ago and intends to continue doing just that. “Likewise.”

Their foreheads touch. Any further words would be superfluous; there is no need to feed the winter with sound. Oliver understands, at last.

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti @claviscollections

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

#sariel noir #ikepri sariel #ikemen prince sariel #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen series

17 notes · View notes