#he can be whatever religion you damn well want him to be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelscruff · 1 year

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could you maybe write something similar to your javier fic but for din/reader? her not knowing his name or who he is (and obviously not being able to see his face) but having sex with him anyway? long fic, drabble, anything! I love your writing <3

spent (din djarin x reader) 18+ drabble

okay, this is filthyyyy. you didn't tell me any specific kinks so hopefully this works for you!! thank you for the suggestion! summary: you're a prostitute and din pays you for your services. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: prostitution, dirty talk, creampie, slight degradation, helmet stays on, lmk if there's something i missed word count: 811

The beskar is uncomfortable, cold and heavy against your body. He'd asked twice so far if it was hurting you and you'd replied honestly, told him you weren't in pain but that it wasn't exactly the sexiest feeling against your skin. To your surprise, he'd apologized.

"I don't remove my armor," he'd explained, situating you in his lap on the bed. He lounged underneath you, sitting up against the headboard as you faced him and rode his cock rhythmically, your tits bouncing heavily with every thrust. "It goes against my religion."

"I t-take it your religion doesn't say anything about pre-marital sex," you'd moaned, and you swore you'd heard him chuckle beneath his helmet.

"No," he'd said, digging his gloved hands into your bare hips, "We can fuck as much as we want," he'd sat up then and angled his cock somehow even deeper inside of you, making you moan loudly, "And as hard as we want."

You've never met a real mandalorian before, or at least one so dead-set on keeping every inch of his armor on despite the service he's paid you for. You thought you'd met one a few years ago, or someone who claimed to be one anyway, but he'd removed his armor - and his helmet - which looking back makes you realize he'd probably been full of shit. Whatever, he'd paid you well.

This one is faceless and completely unreadable; the only way you can tell he's enjoying himself is the way he relentlessly pounds into you, holds you firm on his cock and helps you bounce up and down. He keeps his helmet pointed directly at your face, watching you. For someone whose job it is to remain unclothed for most of your shift, you've somehow never felt so naked.

He hasn't told you his name, a pretty common practice in your field, but usually you're able to connect more to a client when you can see their face, read their expressions, gauge their bodies. You don't need their name to figure out what makes them tick. This client however is completely closed off to you, and having no face to go along with no name leaves quite the disconnect.

He's paid for an hour, but at the speed he's going you doubt he'll stick around for his money's worth; travelers like him, people just stopping by, they rarely stay for the whole slot.

You try to look down at where you're joined, hoping to catch a glimpse of the cock belonging to this faceless man, thick and girthy inside your heat, but you feel a gloved finger on your chin. He tilts your head up and you try to see anything within the depths of his helmet, any sign of an expression or a real person. He remains unreadable.

"Eyes on me," he says firmly, voice modulated slightly through the helmet, "My cock is not for you to look at, it's for you to fuck yourself on until I come."

You tense up at his words, shivering slightly in pleasure and fucking yourself down on him harder, "S-sorry, sir," you whimper.

He squeezes your hip with one hand and presses his other flat against your tummy, thumbing the space below your belly button, "Can you feel my cock in there?" he asks and you whine, nodding, "You've had a lot in there, haven't you? Answer me."

"Y-yes," you moan, "A lot."

"How many today?"

"Only yours," it's true, business has been slow these past few days and he's the first client to pick you over the others in about a week, "Just yours."

"Damn right," he says, satisfied with your answer, "And you're gonna be thinking about it for a long time, aren't you?"

Before you can answer, he reaches up to grip your shoulders, halting your movements. He holds you firmly and pistons his cock into you with such force that your jaw drops open, drool spilling down your chin. You try to say something, answer his question, but words are completely lost on you as the fat head of his cock pounds your cervix relentlessly over and over, your mind going blank.

"That's it," he mutters under the helmet, breath faltering, "Need someone to fuck you stupid, don't you?" he chuckles again, pulling you tight against the cold beskar of his armor, "Gonna fill you up now, hold still."

You couldn't move if you'd wanted to, drunk on his cock as he pushes your shoulders down once more and holds you there, feeling him pulse and twitch within your walls as he coats the deepest parts of you with come. You writhe in his lap, tears stinging your eyes as he fills you up, marks you, makes you his.

"There you go," he's still completely unreadable behind the mask, but you can feel his eyes on your face, watching as he pumps you full of his spend, "Worth every penny."

---

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and here's my kofi, if you'd like to leave a tip!

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #pedro pascal fic #*

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toriangeli · 2 months

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How Armand's AMC background might work with the changes

TW: Mentions of physical, sexual, and religious abuse. You know, Armand stuff.

Age

First off, it’s not that big a deal for Armand to be aged up for his turning.

I’ve said it before, but being turned, especially very young, can be considered analogous to arrested development caused by trauma. In the books, getting this across is helped by repeatedly describing a teenager doing/saying these immature things. In live action media, though, it can be conveyed in a performance. A bit like how The Umbrella Academy removed Klaus’ ability to float because it was a metaphor for him being constantly high, and Robert Sheehan’s performance conveyed his state of mind so well they didn’t need the visual aid.

Armand is still developmentally frozen in places at those times some new trauma came about—pre-adolescent with the sheer hardship of his childhood, thirteenish with the monks (or equivalent in the show if they keep that bit), also thirteenish getting sex trafficked, then again whenever the Children of Darkness/Satan overturn his life. Throughout this entire time, the only time he was safe enough to have normal-ish emotional development was during his relationship with Marius, and it didn’t happen because his need for safety meant him foreclosing on whatever identity he thought Marius would want him to have, and relying on Marius to regulate his emotions instead of learning to regulate them himself. No matter how safe Marius is compared with the rest of Armand’s life, Marius isn’t a psychotherapist and is too flattered by Armand’s total dependence on him to reliably break him of it. He’s too busy cuddling him and feeding him soup instead of teaching him how to self-soothe, having the same expectations of him as he would have with an adult: that he already knows how to do the things he needs to do in order to be a person.

All this to say Armand isn’t necessarily going to be significantly more mature just because he was turned older, especially since Marius was enabling his emotional dependence on him.

The only difference I could see miiiight be if he spends significantly more time under Marius’ tutelage. Marius is the only person in his entire life who actually tries to teach him right from wrong, and it’s pretty critical to his character that it didn’t take. Marius himself notes this at one point during the “banquet” scene, seeing Armand is trying to react how he thinks his master wants him to react, not being properly horrified by people dying. If Marius has time to actually correct this (which, who knows how long that would take, Armand has been stuck permanently in this state for a long time already), that could make a difference to his characterization. But the likelihood of Marius successfully teaching him right from wrong was always pretty damn low, given how his method is “Do something heinous, get mad if Amadeo doesn’t cry.”

Origins

This is a little tricky, but it ultimately boils down to one thing: religion.

He’s Turkic, and it’s plausible for him to be Crimean Tatar, but he couldn’t have been trafficked by them the way he was in the books.

Among Turkic people in Armand’s day, an extremely common language, both speaking and in literature, was Chagatai. This was spoken among Muslims in eastern Europe, as well as central Asia, the Caucasus, and the Ottoman Empire. Today, Chagatai is a dead language, and while there are experts, it’s entirely possible your dramaturg won’t be able to contact one. If that’s the case, what modern language is the most similar? Turns out, Uyghur and Uzbek.

What language does Armand end his prayer in in Dubai? Uzbek.

If Armand is indeed Muslim (which would be the most narratively satisfying option—for him to be forcibly converted in his early life and find his own religion again later), you did have a more diverse population among Crimean Tatars back then than we have today, especially since Stalin’s genocide. You had some who came from as far south as Iran, where you can get people as dark as Assad, even if it’s uncommon. But it being uncommon (aka “exotic”) would be all the more reason he’d get targeted for sex trafficking.

Speaking of. Islamic and Christian laws forbade enslaving someone of the same faith. So whoever kidnaps him in this version of events is almost certainly Christian. The Venetians had a slave trade that was leaving the area for Africa due to the conquest of Constantinople by the Ottomans, but with a little wiggling of decades, we can imagine there were still Venetian slavers raiding the Black Sea. Since Armand ends up in Venice, this would make particular sense.

One more thing remains: the monks of the Caves. An order which, as far as I’m aware, only existed in Kiev. Why would a little Muslim boy be tempted to join an order of Christian monks? I mean, Islam definitely has its own brands of asceticism, but if we’re trying to make as few changes as possible, I’d still buy it being these monks. Speaking as someone who was raised evangelical, children are often targeted in the hopes of converting the entire family. I have no idea how likely that would be for a bunch of Eastern Orthodox monks and a Muslim family way back when, but personally, I’d buy it.

Realistically, would he still live near Kiev (which was part of Lithuania at this time) if he’s from the Crimean Khanate? Probably not. But I wouldn’t sweat it. And I can’t find whether there were any other Muslim groups who lived in/near Kiev.

Timeline

Show!Armand was turned older, so there are years that must be accounted for. I think he must have been trafficked at a similar age as in the books, because it makes the most sense—he’s very young, but old enough that he doesn’t have to be “raised” anymore. So he either spent longer in the brothel, or with Marius, or the years are split between. If it’s at the brothel, they might kick him out once he gets older, and Marius rescues him off the streets instead of from the brothel. Instead, or in conjunction, he could spend more time with Marius. My concern is, if the underage aspect of their relationship is cut, it could sanitize Marius too much. Armand isn’t meant to have any models for healthy relationships in his history, and Marius expecting a kid to meet his emotional needs the way an adult would, in addition to the power discrepancies so typical of pederastic relationships in Marius’ time, explains a lot about both characters.

On the other hand, I don’t want too many flashbacks where a younger actor is playing Armand. I want to see Assad tackle as much as possible. He is so damn good.

Then there’s also the complication mentioned above of how vital it is that Armand never learned right from wrong. And they are still bound by what the network will permit (a reason I’m not sure Claudia’s “surgery” will take place).

It’s possible they could just leave the timeline vague. Assad is babyfaced enough for it to be ambiguous how old he is at any given time. I wouldn’t want it to be too vague, though, lest the effectiveness of either possible version of events be diminished.

Conclusion

I don’t have any conclusions about what they’ve chosen to do. These are all just possibilities. I think that’s valid in its own right.

All in all, I think they have a great opportunity to flip the stereotype of the brown person becoming more “civilized” because of white people and show Armand’s problems as being caused, in significant part, by losing his own identity and culture, and in total part by the imperialist ideals of the West.

Reading up on all of this history to figure out the possibilities has given me a greater appreciation for why they would make the choice to cast Armand as non-white. Armand may be white in the books, but he’s not Western, and even though I’m sure she didn't mean to, Anne did tap into that “the West is here to civilize everyone” narrative. It’s actually something Marius is (intentionally hypocritically) big on—“civilization.” He took this wild Eastern European kid from the shitty life that came to him because of non-white slavers (who were very much a big deal at the time, but they’ve been used to justify the beliefs of white supremacists since the time of Hitler) and gave him a happy, comfortable life, albeit via a deliberately creepy relationship. Here in the US, we don’t think of Eastern Europeans as “not white enough” the way they’ve been historically seen in Europe, so I doubt Anne realized she'd accidentally written a story about the “savage” child being victimized by a tribe of "evil" Mongols and rescued by an ”enlightened” white guy (though if you haven’t read the books, keep in mind that Marius is not nearly as enlightened as he believes and doesn’t spend all that much time in the “civilization” he supposedly treasures).

Flip that, make him Islamic, and his slavers must by necessity be Western, so the people who take apart his life are all coming from that angle of “we have the right to do this because we are better.” And it does not stop after he becomes a vampire. What’s harming Armand isn’t a series of unrelated catastrophes, but an entire culture of imperialism. The Golden Horde doesn’t exist today. Actual Crimean Tatars in the 21st century are oppressed minorities. But the imperialist mindset in Western culture remains, this idea that we are more “civilized” than others. And that’s something this show can actually speak to that will resonate.

#iwtv #amc iwtv #armand #the vampire armand #iwtv speculation #stuff nobody asked for #marius de romanus #please do not treat me like an expert #i tried #this is just a blitz of ideas #partly brought on by the frustration that i will be out of the country when the season premieres #and i'm curious as fuck

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yaut-jaknowit · 5 months

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Reader introducing Woftik to the concept of ooman winter holidays, maybe some gift giving. Tooth rotting fluff

The Holidays

Pairing: Woftik (male Yautja) x GN!reader

Word Count: 2744

Summary: In the vast winter lands of Yautja Prime, Woftik and his mate get to learn about ooman holidays. Woftik doesn't understand it but with the help of his ooman mate, he comes to learn and participate in it. If it means keeping you happy, he's up for it.

Author Note: Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays everyone! Hope everyone has a great end of the year and is preparing for the next. Here's your present! If you guys want a second part, let me know!

Masterlist

Ao3

The Yautja calendar and yours were different. Very different. After your time on Yautja Prime, the days have blended together far too much to remember when was when back home. Truly, it didn’t matter. You’ve made your choice to stick it out on Woftik’s planet. There was nothing to change your mind… besides the damned blizzards that forcefully board up the huts in your small village. The clan, Nacht Klinge, gets wiped off of the map for the time being.

During those months where little light would shine on the lands, casting them in darkness, you considered those to be the winter months. Similar to your own planet. It was the only way to make sense of the changing scenes.

For a fact, you knew the days were longer. On your first week, let alone day on the planet, you knew this immediately. At first, you believed it to be jet lag, or whatever you would consider traveling from planet to planet was. Yet, you later learned they have an extra five hours to their day.

Yautja’s calendars were something you didn’t dare mess with. Confusing with all the changes that happen. The months were weird. The days long, The weeks were six days compared to seven. You just went along with it. They weren’t anything you needed to fret over. If a day of importance came up, Woftik would remind you or let you know. He grew up with said calendar. It’s best to let him handle the confusion than the headache it would surely give you.

When the winter months rolled over the Nacht Klinge clan, an idea came to mind. The winter holidays. Presents; lights; gifts; family; joy. All of it. Your face soured. With the pros of living under your mate’s house, came cons as well. No people to celebrate with. Humans, at least. The Yautjas aren’t ones to have extreme holidays. Though in a sense, they had religion. Holidays usually came from religion.

Now, what could you even get Woftik as a present? He’s the caretaker and hunter. You do outside every once awhile, under the careful watch of those black eyes of his. The lands may look desolate but monsters, predators stalk their prey under the snow. The opposite of a fox or snow owl. Woftik ensured you understood, though not feared, the dangers that lurk beyond the protection of his home.

And you did. As a human though, you required the sun. Through your time in your new home, the color of your skin has lightened over time. Just enough to be noticeable.

Some time ago, you remember coming down with a terrible illness that could even affect a Yautja. Woftik freaked out. Yautja’s rarely got sick. So when they do, it’s serious. He sprinted the whole way to get you to the doctor of the village. Though younger than Woftik by a couple hundred years, she laughed at him before explaining how weak ‘ooman’ systems are. Poor man looked like he had a couple of years shaved off.

Deep in thought, you smiled subconsciously, eyes glazed over. Your head shook side to side to clear any memories still lingering. Times like that bulldoze any doubts over. Like weeds, they do return. But, hey, you’re human. Nothing can change the way you or your species thought.

Hard keratin gently pressed to the top of your head. Jolted from your thoughts, your head whipped up to find the dark gaze of your mate peering over the edge of the couch at you. “Woftik!” you spoke his name in surprise before lifting yourself to your knees and spinning around to face the off-white Yautja.

Small bits of snow clung to his clothing on his shoulders. Nothing out of ordinary. The low light of the twenty-nine hour days didn’t require him to use the googles designed to protect his eyes from the harsh sun or the reflective snow.

The chief of his clan dipped his head in greetings. You instantly wrapped your arms around the large male’s waist, not able to touch your hands together behind him. A size and heaviness needed in these harsher climates.

His body stayed soft in your hold, arms reaching to rub between your shoulder blades. Then, you let your arms fall to the couch, orbs still looking up at him. Woftik chuffed then leaned down to place another closed mandible kiss on the top of your head. “What has my little minx been up to?” he rumbled and walked around the short couch.

The lumbering giant scooped you from the seat, sat down himself, and let you rest on the new open spot. Muscular arms stayed wrapped around your smaller frame. A kind smile broke across your face, unable to glance away from those dark, light-consuming eyes of his. “Nothing much.”

Former thoughts flashed in your mind. A bittersweet feeling swelling behind your breastbone. Woftik was your new family.

A sharp, light grey claw tapped the tip of your nose and brought you from your mind. Eyes once glazed over peered back into the dark orbs of Woftik’s. “What is on your mind, mate?” his deep voice vibrated through his chest and into your side.

“Well…” you trailed off for a moment to think about how to explain this. From your limited knowledge, Yautjas have holidays but nothing like how human do or even celebrate. You chewed at the inside of your lip for a second before a light bulb shined above your head. “Okay, so humans have holidays. Presents, gatherings, family drama, the whole nine yards. Chaos in a pot. Well, I was wondering if we could maybe celebrate?”

There was an expression of indifference on his older features. The darkness of his eyes didn’t allow many of emotions to reflect in them. This left you to ponder what was rolling around in his massive head.

“Of course, if you don’t want to, I won’t make you. I… I just miss those things from my home, you know?” A nervous look presented itself as my expression. Not one born of fear, but from the known if Woftik would do this with you.

The arms around you unwrapped themselves to rest on the back of the couch. He looked like peace itself when he presented himself like this. “What does this holiday or holiday entail?”

Instantly, you perked up with a wide smile spilting your lips. “Really?!” Amusement flash through his eyes. “Yes! Okay, so I celebrate a day called Christmas. It’s really big in the states. It’s about a man named santa who delievers presents to children who’ve been good. The bad kids get coal.”

Off-white brows furrowed the longer you talked. “Wait, are you saying a random male breaks into your dwelling and gives you something?” he questioned in disbelief. How could anyone be okay with that?! He rarely let anyone over to his private hut. You are here, protected from the dangers of his world. To alone another of species to enter could endanger your life. A risk he wasn’t willing to take.

The laugh in return didn’t ease the tension in his body. “No, silly! It’s a sham. Santa doesn’t exist. It’s a story to tell to kids so they be good or else they won’t get any toys as a reward,” you explained and smack his chest with the back of your hand. It hurt you more than him.

Woftik hummed. “Strange. Does it work?” From the little experience he had with the oomans home planet, he truly didn’t know if it worked. His species use a more physical, firmer approach to unruly offspring. He’s had his fair share of smacks when he was a child. He learned from his mother not to do that the safer way then figuring it out if it stole his life.

You reached behind your neck to scratch an nonextant itch. “Eh, from the last year I was back on earth, the new generation was growing worse with their attitude and disrespect. Thankfully, I won’t have to worry about that being here and with you.”

By Paya’s grace, he loved the way you looked up at him, such a compassionate look. The day you died, he would wish to keep your eyes for the rest of his life. He knew it wouldn’t be the same, a fact that would forever sit heavy in his chest.

“So, what do you say? Wanna have a Christmas with me this year?” you asked with hope sparkling in your pupils. Woftik was a harden chief, a stern hand when it came to ensuring his clan survived every harsh month in these barren lands. When it came to you, his sweet, little ooman, he could never say no. Not when you look at him like that. Plus, the holiday sounded fun.

A grunt sounded from his deep barrel chest. “Why not.” You squealed and hugged the big male again, hands unable to touch each other.

“Thank you! Thank you!” you chanted then stood up on the couch. The added height was just enough to reach his face. Your lips touched at one of his lower mandibles in a mock kiss. The best the two of you could do while he had no lips to return he affection.

From the happiness apparent on your alien face, Woftik internally smiled at the sight. It was the right choice to do this with you. He rubbed a brow against your temple in affection. “Of course, my mate.” Woftik pulled back enough to look you in eye, a scaly brow raised in question. “When shall this ‘Christmas’ occur?”

Your lips pursed in thought. First off, you’ll need to go out and gather something for him as a present. That would require possibly sneaking past him and heading into town. With the weather getting worse during this months, venturing out would be dangerous. Especially for a human like you without your protector of a Yautja. The preparation and whatnot would take you some time to plan.

Since the winter was only about one-third over, there was plenty of time to work. “Okay, let’s do it in three weeks,” you offered.

Yes, the weeks are a day shorter, but the days are longer. They weren’t the same back on home but relatively close enough that it could work.

“Alright, three weeks from today shall be our ‘Christmas’,” Woftik agreed.

Another idea came to mind. “Oh! And I want to other things too. Like, wearing matching PJs and hot cocoa.” Your face was spilt wide with a grinning smile that would take a god’s force to remove. Not that Woftik would even dare to. Knowing that showing your teeth for oomans was a sign of happiness now, he would kill to see you like this all the time. His mate deserved to be ecstatic.

The thought of what would come from this new chapter in his life had him sighing on the outside. His normal, grumpy looking self on display. What had he gotten himself into now?

“You won’t regret it. I promise, Wof!” you reassured the male. Your soft, supple hands cupped his scaly outer jaw. Instantly, Woftik melted into this new hold on him, eyes hooding over. Despite his mind slowing, he was planning out how to execute this new holiday with you.

Hot cocoa? He’ll have to look it up but it must be a sweet drink. This far north from the warmth of the sun, little to planet life grew. This would require him to go into the bustling city towards the equator to get what you wanted. Maybe he would take you with him. Carefully. Not all clans are accepting of oomans. Almost all still saw them for the weak species they are, some of those just leave them alone as whole. A small amount go out of their way to kill any that stray away from the protection of either mate or clan. Woftik would have to keep you close and practically on a leash to ensure you don’t fall victim to those said clans.

This would be good though. Woftik does spend plenty of time with you but mostly here, in his private dwelling, protected and safe. The male would never think about taking you out for a hunt, risking unnecessary injury when he could easily provide for the two of you. To take you from here, into the heart of Yautja Prime… he saw it as a good thing. Exploration, change.

Internally, he nodded. Woftik would plan this as a day trip and use his ship to head to the equator to find the necessary items.

“I do have a plan, little ooman.” You tilted your head in silent question. “I shall take you with me to Eourov. From there, I will gather supplies for this ‘Christmas’ and we can celebrate together.”

Your eyes widened. Woftik has spoken some about the biggest city on Yautja Prime: Eourov. The fact he was willing to take you from his clan’s territory was surprising. But to the largest city?

As human, the natural feeling of fear crawled up your back like the legs of a spider. But you pushed that down and looked at him fearlessly. “When do we leave?” You brought forth the courage and excitement of exploring a new plan to your heart. Not only were you having Christmas with the person you loved, but he was taking you to somewhere new!

“I will have to bring up Totolak up to speed about this.” Totolak was Woftik’s second in command. “This will be a day trip but we will return at the end of the day cycle back here. So, he will need to cover for the day while I’m gone with you. We shall plan for two days.” Those dark brown, on the verge of black, eyes pierced through yours.

“Alrighty! I can’t wait,” you squealed and rewrapped your around him. This time, ensnaring his neck tightly. Woftik gently returned the act with just one arm around your torso. His free hand resting on your hip, his thumb mindlessly rubbing over your comfortable t-shirt.

“Is my mate happy?” he questioned. The first thought to come to mind was how ridiculous of a question that was!

“Of course I am! I get to spend more time with you. My favorite thing is to spend time with you. Even if it’s just lounging around with nothing to do,” you stated firmly towards the end. You prayed he wasn’t having doubts about your feelings towards him. You simply brushed off that stupid idea and kept grinning up at him.

The off-white Yautja saw devotion shining back in those pools of emotions. His heart squeezed at the sight. The hand on your hip scaled up your body to cup your jaw and tilted your head up, exposing your throat to him. An action only mates and deeply trusted ones would offer to one another. His pink tongue flickered out for a fleeting moment. “But you must stay close to me. At all times. You have to be glued at my side the whole time we are out,” Woftik demanded, voice growing lower to show his seriousness.

His hand tightened on your jaw. You took his words straight to your heart. Woftik wants to protect you from all harm as his mate. “I will,” you promised Woftik, only knowing the hint of dangers he spoke in fleeting talks before. All you knew was some Yautja hated your species and won’t hesitate to kill you. Thankfully, you have your heart placed in Woftik’s hands. He would keep you safe from danger.

Woftik purred and rubbed his brow once more to your temple. “Tomorrow, I will alert Totolak to our adventure. For now, I shall enjoy my time with my mate.”

The thick arm wrapped around your torso tightened. You were promptly lifted off of the couch and tossed onto the shoulder of Woftik. Said Yautja kept his limb secure around you and began his march to your shared room.

Your laugh echoed off of the walls of your home. “Woftik!” you tried to scold him through the laughter bubbling in your chest but was unsuccessful.

You soon found yourself trapped underneath Woftik’s lumbering frame as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Both of his arms were locked around you. No chance of escape, not that you want ed to in the first place. This is where you belonged. Forever.

#yautja #predator #yautja x you #yautja x reader #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Woftik

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cinyemina · 7 months

Text

Levi's monologue when he was beating the shit out of eren

I can't believe it. I mean, really, can you? It's like a twisted, messed-up joke that humanity's last hope is pinned on a group of bumbling, power-hungry, so-called leaders. These guys couldn't even lead a donkey to water without getting lost in the desert...

And don't get me started on the Yeager brat. Ugly as a Titan's backside, but they want to barbecue him like he's the main course at a Titan buffet. The poor brat is scared out of his mind, stuttering like a broken record, begging for his life every few seconds. Newsflash, brat: nobody understands you when you're gagged. It's like trying to have a deep philosophical debate with a brick wall.

Nile Dok, the shining beacon of all that is pig-headed and self-important. Head of the Military Police, they call him. But from where I'm standing, he's the grand poobah of all things nonsensical. And let's not forget Nick, the Minister Shitface, holding the prestigious title of vice-judge. It's like a match made in heaven – two peas in a pod of bureaucratic incompetence.

Erwin, on the other hand, well, he's got his own history with Dok. Something about stealing Erwin's girl, Marie, way back when. The details aren't clear, but you can bet your boots that it's a festering wound that still stings. You see, Eyebrows may look as calm as a tranquil lake, but beneath that serene exterior, there's a storm brewing.

Minister Nick and his never-ending religious sermons. He's all about that Walls mumbo-jumbo, but honestly, I've got more important things to do, like keeping your sorry butts alive in this Titan-infested world. If I did give a damn about religion, I'd want a better spokesperson than this guy. I mean, really, it's like having a dung beetle as your life coach. Nick's "inspirational" speeches would put even the most dedicated insomniac to sleep. But hey, maybe that's the secret to his survival – bore the Titans to tears. While he's preaching about the great beyond, I'm out here in the real world, making sure you have a future to even worry about.

If there's a heaven, hell, or purgatory, I hope they've got better entertainment than this holy bore. Dok's playing puppet master to Zackly, and it's a damn puppet show I'm not willing to watch any longer. The clock's ticking, and I can't let this charade continue. The jury needs a reality check before Dok's nonsense becomes law.

Erwin, my partner in crime, gives me that unspoken signal, and it's like we share the same damn brain. Twins, they call us, and they might be right. But let's get one thing straight – I got the looks, and I've got the, well, length, if you catch my drift.

It's time to step up, cut through the crap, and bring some order to this chaotic world. Because if there's one thing we don't need, it's more clowns in this circus of despair. It's time for the Survey Corps to do what we do best – kick some Titan ass and take names.

It's a damn shame that I have to resort to beating the living daylights out of Eren Yeager to make a point. But let me tell you, it's like a twisted kind of therapy for me. The kid's got a hair-trigger temper, and it doesn't take much to set him off. I mean, everything makes him lose his marbles.

You'd think we were living in a world where Titans are the least of our worries, with the way Eren goes ballistic over the smallest things. It's like he's got a personal grudge against serenity. But hey, if my fists can knock some sense into him, then I'll gladly be the bad guy. In this world, losing your cool can get you killed, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep this circus from turning into a bloody tragedy.

Mikasa, the black-haired girl, can't seem to stop gushing over "Ereh!" like she's some kind of Titan-slaying goddess. The way she clings to that Titan-spitface is almost comical. Kid's got herself a full-blown crush on Mr. Yeager.

And sure, I've heard it before, that Mikasa Ackerman looks a bit like me, despite us having zero ties. But let's get one thing straight – I'd rather be related to a sack of potatoes than be associated with a brat who's obsessed with Eren.

I'm not one to toot my own horn, but between her and me, I'm the hotter one in this messed-up circus. Beauty might not save the world, but it sure beats being infatuated with a Titan-transforming teenager.

It's not the stench of their porky existence that gets to me, although that's a close second. No, it's the fear that I feed on, thrive on, and let me tell you, it's a feast.

Dok and Minister Nick are probably soaking their pants, and also shitting right about now, knowing that in my mind's eye, I'm picturing them in Yeager's shoes. There's something satisfying about watching them squirm, knowing that their day of judgment might be just around the corner. It's like a sweet symphony, and I'm the conductor, orchestrating their fear, one crescendo at a time. This world is a savage playground, and I'm the merciless player.

Wait shit, was that a spit and blood covered tooth? Holy hell, it doesn't matter. I need to pull back. Just one more kick.

Okay, maybe one more for good measure. Can't leave things unfinished, right?

And one last one, just to make sure things are nice and tidy. It's not often I get to let loose like this, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Another kick for the sake of, well, cleanliness.

TLDR: Shipping between Levi and Eren won't be tolerated, it's disgusting.

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writingforatwistedworld · 2 years

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May I please ask for a self aware au headcanon of Malleus, Lilia, and Sebek reacting to a player that tries to share their own religious views from back home with them? I find the irony and potential humor of that situation interesting.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, imprisonment, murder, blood, religion, obsession, death, possessiveness, unhealthy mindset

(My works are for entertainment and not meant seriously! Please believe in whatever religion you would like! Or don't. That's up to you.)

Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge/Sebek Zigvolt-Player tries to share their religious beliefs

You have broken your local friendly (and not so harmless) neighbour fae

Why is God believing in... another higher power?

Wait... DOES THAT MEAN THERE IS A HIERARCHY WHTHIN THE GODLY SOCIETY??!

(Well since us being God is more or less something they came up with themselves and because we live in a society in which we need some sort of law and order... yes. Apparently there is a hierarchy in our “godly” society)

Or maybe someone had stolen your position and now you are damned to wander as a mortal in the world you created??!

Please get this madman some ice cream... I can see smoke coming from his mouth

And then you get deeper into the details of your belief, telling him about certain days on which you celebrate things...

Does that mean that you are unhappy with how they celebrate you your holiness?

Malleus is already done writing the letter for his grandmother in which this is recorded and is about to send the thing

Please stop him! We don't know what a bunch of religious fanatics would do if they found out that their God is unhappy with them...

Just try to keep your teachings to a minimum ok?

And please do tell him that you don't want to wage a war against some religion from another world

The poor man just looks so confused and like he is ready to just bang his head against a wall (poor wall! Won't survive that...)

If you also share your beliefs with others, please tell them to keep your discussion to themselves

We wouldn't want our oh so lovely follower to believe that they are challenging us with that other higher power? Right?

So many broken limbs and red... paint

Ok he is calm. He is chill.

Just sipping tomato juice out of a wine glass whilst listening interested

... You do get that I am just joking, right?

You actually believed that Lillia, the man himself, would accept this kind of thing?

You were the only light he had in the days he was still wearing his armour and now you say that some... heathen puts themselves above you

This man is full on delusional

He would rather create a story that doesn't make any sense in his head than accept that maybe, maybe you aren't that holy figure he always saw you as

Because if he were to admit that you weren't who they thought you were then what was the point of it all?

What was the point of the war?

What was the point of him grasping an old friend's hand whilst watching how the light left their eyes?

No, he would rather say that this other higher being has corrupted your thoughts and made you its marionette

So the second someone dares to say that they are interested in your belief his sword is sharpened and he is uh... making them the size of their head shorter

All whilst following Malleus orders

But even Liliaknows that he would have done this even if Malleus hadn't told him to do it

Now how should he twist your mind to make you remember you once more that you are God?

On well, there is always the good old “keeping them in a room all alone until they do everything you ask them to do because of pure loneliness”

How... fun...

Excuse me for a second, I need to get my headphones so that my poor ears are at least somewhat protected

He was raised by Lilia

What do you expect me to say? That he all calm and accepting and is fully on your side about believing in whatever you want?

Nah. I would recommend going to a doctor afterwards. You know, your poor ears...

But the day was sunny, the birds were chirping and Sebek was higher than cloud nine because he was sipping tea with the Overseer

Or rather was

Rook was very confused about why birds were suddenly leaving the forest in panic but he is a different kind of dilemma so moving on

After you had told him about your beliefs he had stared at you for a second or two before doing irreversible damage to your ears in the form of “WHAT??!”

Prepare to be picked up (whilst he apologizes), carried towards Diasomnia (whilst he apologizes) and held up high whilst he screams something about you being used for an evil scheme (after he apologized)

So... how is your new room with all the locks doing for you? Those bars in front of the window are made out of gold... just saying...

And who could be guarding your room other than Sebek?

Man over here volunteered

Lilia had to feed him some potion so the half-fae would finally go to sleep after three days of just standing in front of your door

Also, small talk to get out doesn't do it

He is determined to make you understand ”who you truly are” or something like that

So since Lilia isn't cooking during you “visit” how is the food?

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morgana-ren · 5 months

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Honestly, Lore Mom, I am curious about what sort of people Bhaal attracts. Like it seems his worshippers would be pretty limited to either his own spawn or the few people who become addicted to killing. Maybe it's different in a high fantasy setting but my understanding is most murderers don't kill for the fun of it, they do it to achieve an end (like Banites). I'm curious if Bhaal has an issue with maintaining followers. [Also sorry I can't write a short ask to save my life]

Well, people associated with death, for starters.

Assassins, common street killers, ritualized murderers, anybody who might benefit from a patron that encourages such behavior. His ultimate domain is slaughter, blood, and death, so people operating where that is their wheelhouse are far more likely to turn to Bhaal than any other lord. Especially in the situation that there isn't much else regarding an ulterior motive, and it's the pure, undiluted love of the slaughter that drives them.

The kill is the point.

Banites kill because they are chasing a goal. They do the things they do not as the ultimate point of their actions, but to meet those ultimate points. For Bhaalists, the murder is the point, if that makes sense.

You'll obviously get people who aren't 'right' in the head (like Dolor-- which means pain by the way lmao) but you'll also get more cold, calculated killers that have some kind of life that revolves around the cycle of death and ending life itself.

That's why it's referred more to as a cult than an actual religion. Bhaals cultists are tools to meet his ends. It doesn't really revolve around points and end goals like power or dominion or whatever else have you most of the time. It's slaughter. Don't get me wrong, obviously in BG3, there is very much an end goal (which... is the literal death of everyone in the world a la 'the world ending in blood') but again, the death is the point. Blood. Murder. Death. Slaughter. Rinse (or don't) and repeat. He is capable of forming plans, but those plans always revolve around death death death.

Bhaal's chosen is a bit unhinged. Uncontrolled, unhinged murder. Having to fight for control and her need to destroy kill destroy at every fucking turn. Sometimes, they're a bit smarter and more patient (like Sarevok) but again, they're just holding off temporarily to meet their ultimate end, which still revolves death and blood and sacrifice.

The thing about Bhaal is that there are always going to be people who turn to him. People who want to kill for one reason or another. People whose lives revolve around death and blood. People who are just angry and hateful and want to see the world suffer. Weak people hoping for favor from the strong and willing to kill to do it (people too weak to serve a God like Bane of their own initiative or skill.) Every time one dies, a new one is born somewhere, and will inevitably make their way there, same as every other evil God.

I'm sure that his follower count wanes and waxes depending on the times. During more troubled epochs, it might inspire more violence and a sort of comfort in a God who has dominion over violent death. During more peaceful times, you'll get rabblerousers who are always looking to upset the balance.

Truthfully, it really just depends. I'm sure it reaches lows and highs depending, but since you cannot kill an idea, and Bhaal has a form of control over an idea (blood and death) you would have trouble killing it off entirely, and even if you managed, it would create a power vacuum and something else would step in to fill that role-- much like Bhaal himself did.

He is technically a quasi-deity as of right now, same as the others. Thanks to some crazy bullshit that happened, they are all not technically Gods in the same way that they once were, though they are damn sure trying to crawl their way back into it. Still, as you can see, that isn't exactly stopping them.

Bhaal will keep acting like an edgy shithead, and there are always edgy shitheads attracted to that. Not to talk shit on him, I love the idea of him, but he is absolutely the edgiest shithead of the edgy shithead three.

#morgana and friends #lore bits

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fluffy-pawninja · 2 years

Text

“your party accidentally enrages a god, but certain doom is oddly liberating. Cursed weapons, monkey paws, contracts with demons; nothing is off the table. You have no chance of winning, but your deaths shall be GLORIOUS!”

-tumblr writing-prompt-s

Nahiin stood and waited. He was planning this heist to pull off a a little bit of quick gold, so long as you define a few hundered thousand as a little bit. To specify, a few hundered thousand after the shares where divided up. As I tell you this, there are three others waiting just outside the building as nahiin sits in a small passageway right above a massive open room, waiting for his familiar to return. A short moment later karun, his owl familiar, had come back and perched on his shoulder, giving a short “hoo” in a tone that nahiin recognized meant the cost was clear. He dropped down silently and started moving for a pedestal in the corner of the room, past other artifacts and their respective displays. His target was a glass ball named “the orb of khutu”. why was someone willing to pay so much for it? No clue. Was he going to ask? Hell no. After about a minute he made it and picked up the ball before hearing a recognizable voice behind him.

“whatchya got there? Is that the thing? It looks shiny, can I see?” asked Dolly Foxglove, a 5’1 living doll dressed in a nun outfit and had a strange liking of defying religion.

“dolly, why are you here? I said to stay outside with summer and the plague doctor”

“oh, the other came too. We got bored”

“and what happened to the guards that where posted around the halls and outside?”

“we killed them all! Except for birdy, she put some to sleep with her potions and powder”

“I didn’t agree to that name!” chimed in a voice, muffled by a plague doctor mask. Her name had not been given, but she offered to come along for a cut of the gold. She had a dream of being able to live alone in a little cottage shack in a bog and make potions, but doing so would require a lot of money. Money she didn’t have. So she took on this job.

“whatever. Anyway, gimmie gimmie, I wanna see the thingy!” at this time, dolly had started trying to take the orb from nahiin. To which nahiin responded by moving it out of dolly’s reach. After a bit of struggling, they try to jump onto nahiin to grab the orb, causing him to fall over and drop it. Time seemed to slow down for the group as they all watched it hit the ground and shatter. Well, it didn’t shatter right away. Upon hitting the ground it started to crack violently as a dark black and red smoke formed inside. After a few breif seconds it shattered, sending bits of glass everywhere as the smoke spread out. Everyone all at once got an inexplicable feeling the world would be ending soon, while the party here gets the feeling it’s mostly their fault. Suddenly, they felt like someone was talking. Not verbally, but rather a voice in their heads.

“one milenia. I leave you mortals with a glass ball for one melinia and a group of you breaks it. I’m fed up with you humans. However I admire you lot, knowing the risk if your king caught you and still trying to get it. You have one week, one week from now and I shall give you all glorious deaths. There is no redemption, show me your true desires.” khutu said. The party all looked at eachother, sharing looks of mixed emotions.

“well, you heard what we’re up against. Waste no time and go prepare. As for you, doctor, you’re coming with me for a little treasury raid” nahiin said. And with that everyone walked off. Somehow a group of four managed to cause the end of the world. And hell be damned if they wheren’t going to have fun with it.

Summer, a fae, made a contract with a demon for a cursed mace. It would grant the owner of it power and control over plants. Any plants, including ones that wheren’t there but manifested if the user belived hard enough. This could lead to summoning an entanglement of vines of any size wherever the fuck they where wanted. The curse, however, removed the user’s gender for however long the mace was being held and made the person or being permanently infertile. Not much of a curse now is it? Amazing how it hasn’t been taken up before now.

Dolly Foxglove, a biomechanical doll of a minx cat who wore exclusive nun dresses and was quite deft with her custom silver anticross dagger had found a trinket that gave all sorts of defensive and healing spells to her disposal. It was a little golden circular pendant with a ruby embedded in the center that had little black swirls moving out from the middle. What she didn’t know however is that it’d corrupt her the more she uses is in additon to taking 24 hours off of her lifespan with each use. Considering the circumstances however I doubt it matters.

Nahiin had spent his week communing with spirits, as well as practicing necromancy and conjuration. He wanted to be able to return to this world after he was gone, which meant being careful how he spends his last moments. He’d gotten a small ring enchanted to be able to shap shift the wearer to an owlbear on command and gave it to karun, carefully sliding it onto the owl’s leg. Afterwards he’d stopped by a tailor to get a nice plague doctor’s mask, nothing specail about it, just something he’s always secretely wanted. The final things he got where some nicer throwing knives and some new daggers, custom made with depictions of the moon and stars on their hilt and blade. After he got everything he enchanted his daggers and throwing knives to be able to return to his hand on command.

And then there was the alchemist. The plague doctor. The one who got wrapped into this mess because of poor financial situation. A retired pirate who just wanted to live a peaceful life making potions, elixirs, and other concoctions. Sadly however an honest alchemist’s life doesn’t pay as well and unable to rejoin her old crew she tagged along with nahiin, summer, and dolly for what should’ve been a twenty minute, in and out heist. After raiding the royal treasury with nahiin and killing a few guards she went to the market and bought some ingredients, more bottles and viles, and paid off her mortgage on a bog cottage she owned just outside the city’s limits. She then spent the rest of the week living as an honest alchemist, selling potions to those who came by and occasionally drinking a few herself by dipping her mask’s beak into the bottle. She still owned and wore her coat and hat that she had during her pirating days, no one knew why, nor did they need to. Just a nice detail for your reading pleasure.

When the day of reckoning finally came, everyone went to the same location. Except for the doctor, she simply stayed home as the other three went to the vally. It was night when they’d all gotten there, with a cloudy sky that nahiin had quickly cleared up with a spell or two. And he was glad he did. The night sky had a bit more purple in it’s tint tonight, and the northern lights had formed inexplicably. Eventually though the sky had seemingly split, revealing the cosmos and the stars. The moons where’nt visible, which may have been the only thing missing from this perfect, peaceful sight. Nahiin chose to simply lie on his back next to karun and a few spectral ravens and simply stargaze as dolly practiced her abjuration and summer tested out xer mace in a larger, more open environment. To say nahiin wasn’t going to miss this world would be a lie, as shown by him making plans and taking measures to be be able to return as a spirit or spectral raven. But he would die without regrets tonight. And it would be a worthy death at that.

After about five minutes, khutu arrived. Manifesting in the center of the valley. He took on the form similar to an ork, but much larger with black skin and rather than wearing fur and iron armor, he was decked in elegant silver and gold full body platemail.

“I leave mortals alone with a glass ball to take care of for a few thousand year with the instructions of not to break it. And you fucks smash it when just barely a hundered have passed. You four will be dying here tonight. Wait why’s there only four of you? Nevermind. Ready up.” he said, casting his hand out infront of him. When he does this a few celestial guards form, shards of the cosmos held together by golden armor.

Summer was the first to strike, summoning vines to hold up one of them while xe caves in it’s helmet with xer mace, before the vine tightens and crushes it like a tin can. This is followed immediately by xer just barely dodging an arrow from a second one that came up xer flank. Xey retaliate by growing a vine right beneath them that perices the armour between the legs and thickens as it moves upward, tearing the celestial guard apart. Dolly charges at one holding a claymore and slides between it’s legs, before jumping up onto it’s back and planting her dagger. It falls to the ground as space dust leaks out through the gash. Immediately she jumps off it’s back and latches onto the sheild of another, thrusting her dagger through the helmet deep enough to peirce the other side. She wrenches her dagger out after it topples over and grabs the sheild, passing it to summer. When she’d turned around to pass it to summer she feels a strange tingling feeling. Looking down she sees a javelin peirced through her. She calmly takes it out and opens her torso to make sure none of her three organs are damaged. After confirming this she heals the damaged wood where the javelin went through as karun in her owl bear form leaps over, being ridden by nahiin. Karun’s massive beastly form lands ontop of the celestial guard that threw the javelin and tears it to shreads while nahiin leaps off karun’s back and throws a knife at one weilding a corssbow. Landing in a roll, nahiin gets up and moves for the closest celestial. Dodging it’s warhammer he moves to sweep the legs but gets knocked over by one with a mace. He quickly gets up and draws his daggers, waiting for one of them to strike. The one with a warhammer swings and he dodges backwards, before throwing the dagger in his right hand at the one with a mace, slowly so that it’d be easier to dodge than block. As expected the celestial guard ducks under it, but after getting back up nahiin calls the dagger back to him. On it’s return trip it sticks the guard right in the back as nahiin draws a throwing knife and hits the other celestial with it. He then picks up both and turns to see an arrow flying right at him, far to close and moving far to fast for him to dodge when suddenly a vine wall rises from the ground infront of him, catching the arrow.

Nahiin turns and nods at summer as she zips past him and knocks the archer right in the head. He takes a moment to blanket the whole area in a thin black fog, lightly inhibiting eyesight and not doing much aside from providing atmospherics, and giving cover for the 5’ tall murderous doll running around stabbing and disarming anything she could get to. Without realizing it, she’d gotten over to khutu and tried to crawl up his leg and stab him, but was quickly stopped from doing so. He knocked her off of him and stomped on the ground so hard the resulting shockwave knocked dolly into the air, to which khutu punched her hard enough to send her across the feild. He then sent a bolt of light at her which flew at an alarming speed but it was blocked by a conjured wall that nahiin had summoned. Upon making contact with the magic barrier it exploded, but after the explosion there was summoned words from nahiin that read “not yet.”

Upon noticing a group of the celestial guards that had sheilds grouping up in a roman box formation, nahiin called down a flock of spectral ravens to ruch down the gaps between the sheilds. While this didn’t do much, it did weaken the intregity of the formation and provide cover for karun to fly in then morph to owl bear form, sending celestial guards flying out as she shredded the guads that where left.

Realizing the party was competent enough to handle a small army of celestial guards, khutu decided it was time to join the fray. He summoned a large polearm that looked something like an axe head on one side with a war pick on the other. He waved his hand dismissively and the remaining celestial guards fell and their armor turned to dust. Summer and dolly grouped up behind nahiin as karun landed on his shoulder. Nahiin wispered something to summer quickly as khutu aproached them. Right when khutu went to swing summer summoned a wall of vines that formed almost like a half dome around the party as nahiin used misty step to get behind the angry god who was now distracted with the dome of vines and leaves. Dolly made a quick leap out of the way as khutu brought his ax down upon the dome of vines and watched them crumple. However, there was nothing there side for two daggers with engravings of the moons and a starry sky. Nahiin summoned a platform behind khutu and leaped off of it high into the air, angled perfectly to put the god’s head between him and his daggers. He called them back and they struck khutu in the face, one in each eye. He stumbled backwards and fell as nahiin landed on khutu’s chest. A lock of spectral ravens swarmed his face as summer wrapped him up with countless vines and dolly ran over and plunged her knife into the god’s neck.

Khutu only chuckled at all of this. He broke the vines easily and nahiin rushed to get his daggers back, realizing their attack had done nothing to the immortal being. Getting up and smacking the ravens away, khutu swung his hand so hard dolly got sent across the feild again. He then called down the wrath of a god again, the concentraited beams of light moving fast and striking hard enough to knock her into the air. There was a total of six, khutu threw one and the other five where heavier, albeit slower, bolts that where summoned directly above her and fell. By the time the dust had cleared, she was barely recognizable. And there was no chance for dying words. Her nun outfit had burnt up after the first two blasts and her wood and porcelain torso did minimal to protect her only three organs.

“damn, looks like she’d dead. You’re certainly brutal, aren’t you khutu?” remarked nahiin, only to be met with getting summer thrown at him. Khutu tried to summon the wrath of a god again but it was blocked by conjured walls and vines that nahiin and summer where just barely able to summon in time. Karun flew up and gained momentum before attempting to shift to an owlbear and drop into khutu, knocking the angery yet entertained god to the ground. Nahiin used this moment of distraction to misty step to the other side of khutu while summer flew to get a heitght advantage and summoned a vine to grow right through khutu. the god simply threw karun, who nearly immediately shifted back to an owl, off of him and burned the vine as it was growing through him. The celestial fire was able to burn fast enough to burn the vines straight back to their respective places of origin in the ground. He then got up and reached over to grab the fae out of the air, crushing xer in his hand. He then turned his had palm down and dropped what remained of summer, being a crushed mace and a cloud of pixie dust. Khatu then turns to nahiin, his face a mixture of emotions.

“if I may add, when you’re 10 feet tall with a weapon bigger than the castle walls I don’t think there’s any doubt who’d win between you and three uncoordinated mortals. But now that it’s just us what do you say we have a duel? A fair fight, karun will stay out of it and I’ll only use as much magic as you use. Aside from that it’ll be my blades against yours. What do you say?” nahiin said. Khutu thought for a moment before changing his form to that more similar to a wood elf with gold chain mail under a fancy looking tunic. He drew a rapier and pointed it level with nahiin’s head

“fair fight, if a lowly theif like you can manage a fight that’s actually fair” khutu said, his voice for some reason hadn’t changed. He moves to make the first strike on nahiil, who catches the rapier with the hilt of his left dagger as he sidesteps and sweeps khutu’s legs. Afterwards he jumps back.

“I never said it’d be a clean fight, just a fair one” nahiil says with a slight shrug before sheathing his right dagger and throwing two knives. The knives land in khutu’s arm as he gets up, seemingly doesn’t notice them, and sends a bolt of fire directly at nahiin. Who dodged it and summoned a large metal create to fall onto of khutu, who caught it effortlessly with one hand and threw it back. Nahiin dismissed the create the moment khutu tried to throw it.

“so, it seems you aren’t able to actually match skill in a fight, and rely on your abilities to win fights for you. In such case, there’s no point in this fight. All I request is you give me an honerable and quick death” nahiin says with a sigh, he calls all his throwing knives back to him and sheaths them as the return. He then kneels down infront of khutu after telling karun to fly free. Conveniently, nahiin was lined up perfectly with the plague doctor’s bog cottage and the city the orb was once kept in.

Khutu nods and says “as you wish, confusing mortal.” and sends forth a massive, impossibly large beam of light powerfull enough to wipe out a whole city. As it went it consumed nahiin, who became nothing more than dust in the beam’s path.

Back over at the cottage, the plague doctor stepped outside and saw the massive beam of light quickly approaching. She fell backwards into a sitting position with her legs out straight infront of her, she took off her hat and dropped it beside her as her head hung low defeatedly.

“man . . .”

thank you to @t4tichihime for letting me use summer, @theshitpostcalligrapher for letting me use the man . . . plague doctor, and @\dystopia_loona on discord for letting me use dolly

#writing #writing prompt #writers on tumblr #man...

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somegiantmess · 1 month

Text

Some screenshots and spoilers for FF seven Reb*rth under the cut

So I got to Cosmo Canyon yesterday.

Not gonna lie I enjoy the aesthetic of the village and especially the lab and the music in the lab is really cool too.

Now with the critics.

I'm somewhat bothered by the fact that the people who care about the planet (through what they call planetology in the game) give such a vibe of... something close to sectarians and gurus? And I'm pretty sure it wasn't the case in the original game? Tbh when I came across random NPCs that laid their religious-like speeches earlier in the game, I thought it was just some random guys who came to that. I wasn't expecting the inhabitants of Cosmo Canyon to all be like that? With all the rituals the speeches the prayers etc.

Maybe the religious vibe serves to give room to make things "magical" and have the ceremony and all but I would prefer having the people in Cosmo Canyon care about the world and life like they do, but with a more scientific —and compassionate/empathic because yes both can be a thing simultaneously— stance. And like they can definitely have their own culture around it, and I mean you could make it religious maybe but the way it's done here feels overdone, feels like a cliché.

Also yes I'm aware the lab adds a scientific aspect to all that but it's not the aspect you see the most at the end of the day.

And so (spoiler: real life themes) ultimately I'm bothered because I make the link to our real world. Detractors of ecology love to paint people who ask and fight for ecological actions as: cranks, crazy, enlightened guys who are simply over sensitive and make a "religion" out of their values/beliefs, who are irrationnal, that kinda thing. Which is why I'm pretty bothered to specifically have the "ecologists" in this game now being painted as people who deliver vague speeches and talk like gurus?

Medias are vectors for our imaginations and even sometimes our assumptions about stuff, right? Whether we want it or not, whether it's a good thing or not. I'd be pleased if medias were more often and more properly a vector for knowledge and awaraness about our ecological predicament. As well as for positive imagination of different, sober lifestyle. I mean, sure, various themes tied to that can be found in a lot of content. But pieces of media that make it really central and on point? That make it realistic, relatable and emotional? That brilliantly manages to spark something -hopefully positive and action-inducing- in the viewers? More and more content that would help introducing curiosity and eventually a real culture around those topics? Would love to see more of that.

And less of "oh my god look the evil guy says he wants to save the planet and to do that he's ready to kill people/humanity! look this is what ecology does to people hhaahahaa" (for fuck's sake everything is so wrong with that— btw do you see mcu thanos? if it was real life never dare calling reducing the number of living beings on earth an ecological solution. wtf. the problem isn't the number, it's a worldwide system that relies on infinite production to create infinite capital and that implies very high material and energy consumption (especially from (spoiler) a minority of human beings). Also do we forget that not all species are in the same situation? is it ecological to reduce to half the number of individuals of a species that's on the verge of extinction even though it had a role in an ecosystem somewhere? look I don't remember all the details of how thanos thought he would do good but I saw him labelled as an evil ecologist or ecoterrorist or whatever. And his fictional argument was something like "there are too many individuals there's a balance that's being endangered in the universe let's make disappear very randomly half of the living beings and everything will be settled" —and was it supposed to be a paralell to our real world? because damn. so wrong. Did I also say that "saving the planet" is a questionable phrasing? cause when you care about ecology you care about the living beings -including ourselves- more than "saving" the earth just for the sake of it or something abstract. The planet itself will outlive us don't worry.)

Ok wow that was a very long digression.

So going back to the game; I'm just sad that the theme of ecology is here in some way, but it's like it's, in part, reduced to something that'll look religious and fanatic to most people. Even though there's room for something more impactful. Even without turning the game into something that'll obsessively revolve only around that.

Not that I'll be able to write that myself but I mean if you're a pro writer/scenarist I'm sure there's something to do.

Still want to add that if I sound anti religion or something that's not my point. My point is it's the guru vibe of the guys in the game and how they're probably perceived by players that makes it feel wrong when you're into the same irl topics as I am. :')

#rebirth vague spoilers #oh damn it went out of control #sorry there's also talk about mcu thanos and real life ecology #thanks bye #i still like the game btw #and i hope i can beat it soon enough now

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aquadestinyswriting · 11 months

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Slipping off the Mask

Summary: Inquisitor Garl Grimbeard has recently returned to Toreguarde and asked Meredith to look for one of his nieces. A commotion outside, however, distracts the young dwarven cleric from her task

Words: 2,546

Warnings: a description of a severed head, fantasy religion, fantasy xenophobia and some mildly bad language

Notes: This is a repost of the original so I could add in some extra bits I'd forgotten about in the original story.

tags: @druidx, @asher-orion-writes, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds

The inside of the Temple of Moradin was oddly quiet and sombre, Meredith realised. Was it the acolytes huddling in the far corner of the bar, all of them attempting to avoid the attention of the recently returned Inquisitor Grimbeard? Or was it the quietly gruff conversations between the older, more experienced clerics about how it was too damn quiet and that nothing had gone wrong within the city for at least the last month? Whatever the reason, Starhammer was quite correct in his assertion, it was far too quiet, and Meredith wasn’t sure she liked it.

The cleric paused by the door leading to the cellar, some instinct nagging at the back of her mind. She cocked her head, listening to the muffled voices on the other side of the door,

“Hurry it up, we don’t have time to be lollygagging like this!”

“Give us a break will ye? We’re goin’ as fast as we can. D’ye want us to drop them?”

“Stop makin’ excuses. Get yet lazy arses into gear afore I have to give ye more of an incentive.”

Meredith frowned. She recognised the dulcet tones of Inquisitor Grimbeard, but not the other voice. The rest of whatever conversation was going on was quickly drowned out by the thud and rattle of bottles being moved around. Her stomach churned, why did Grimbeard sound so much like the Duregar she’d briefly met in her short visits to Wyrmholme? Most dwarves of Fangthane would rather shave than do anything to compromise the integrity of their drink. Her thoughts were quickly interrupted as the door opened, causing Meredith to almost stumble onto her backside. Grimbeard glared at her, closing the door behind him a little too quickly,

“Watch where ye’re goin’ girl!” he snapped irritably, “What’re ye doing hanging around outside doors for anyway? Don’t you have anything better to do?” Meredith dusted off her vestments and gave the skinny, greasy dwarf in front of her a short bow,

“I was on my way back up to the bar after speaking with the high priest.” she replied as calmly as she could manage. Her nose wrinkled as she caught a faint whiff of acrid acid, but she kept her expression neutral as she came back up to standing. Grimbeard snorted and jerked his head towards the bar,

“Well if ye’re heading up that way, go find my niece and tell her I want to see her down here.” he sniped before turning to go back into the cellar. Meredith frowned as she heard him mutter something about the “young’uns being lazy sods”. She waited until the door was closed again before snorting and traipsing up to the bar. A part of her wanted to ignore the Inquisitor’s request, especially since he hadn’t bothered to give her a description of said niece. However, the more sensible part of her encouraged her to try anyway; it wasn’t like she had anything better to do.

Meredith huffed a sigh as she looked around the barroom. It was busy, but not so much that she couldn’t spot the lone woman sitting by herself in a dingy corner, nursing what was probably one of the cheaper beers available. Meredith shook her head and started to approach the other woman, to at least ask if she was the person Grimbeard was asking for.

A crash from the front doors of the temple caused everyone within the bar to look at the doors leading outside. As one, all the dwarves in the bar looked at one another before bundling outside to see what the fuss was about. While drama was a daily occurrence that was often gossiped about for weeks or months afterwards, it was rare for it to happen within the walls of the temple itself. Meredith squeezed past the crush of people around her, listening to the sound of raised voices coming from the front doors. Voices that sounded all too familiar,

“‘Scuse me. Comin’ through. Will ye move yer fat arse oot the road already!” Meredith’s voice became more terse as she recognised the voices of Elowyn and Darius, along with Inquisitor Grimbeard’s. Eventually, she wriggled through to the front of the crowd and stopped dead in her tracks. The outlines of a woodling and a tall, lanky human were silhouetted in the doorway, while Inquisitor Grimbeard stood at the entrance to the cellars, his normally ashen face currently maroon with rage as he blustered. Darius, upon spotting Meredith in the crowd, pointed to the grizzled dwarf,

“Merri! He’s planning to kill about half the city!” the teenaged human yelled. At the same time Grimbeard shouted out to the Moradhir Guard that were standing in the entrance hall, looking confused,

“Arrest them!” he yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. Meredith frowned. What in all the hells was going on? And why was Grimbeard yelling for her friends to be arrested? They weren’t even worshippers of Moradin, or dwarves for that matter. Before she could push her way past the guards, another voice, this one deeper and more commanding, rumbled through the chaos.

“What in all the bloomin’ blazes is going on up here?” Starhammer’s voice, somehow, cut through the muddle of everything else being shouted, causing all in the vicinity to immediately shut their mouths. Well, almost everyone. Grimbeard continued his tirade,

“Heretics!” The whole bloody lot o’ ye!” the scraggly-bearded dwarf was yelling, earning him a mixture of tuts and irritated sighs. Several of the older clerics around him rolled their eyes, as did the Captain of the Moradhir Guard. Starhammer pushed past the more heavily armoured dwarves and glared at the Inquisitor,

“Now hold on just one minute, Grimbeard. What in all the bloody hells are you goin’ on about?” he asked. Grimbeard puffed out his chest, and pointed at Elowyn and Darius, spittle flying from his lips as he spoke,

“These slimy, beardless infidels are accusin’ me and my family of plotting against the good folk of the Toreguarde Council!” he yelled. Darius went red in the face. He knew what he had seen in the sewers and this old… Darius wasn’t sure if he could even call the dwarf a man with the way he was acting. Before he could shout a rebuttal, Elowyn held a hand in front of him and glared at the skinny, grey-haired dwarf in front of her,

“We captured one of your family in the sewers beneath the street out there. After a bit of questioning, he revealed his and your part in a scheme to poison the Toreguarde Council at their next meeting by using beer spiked with Black Oozes.” she stated firmly, using her best ‘watchman’ voice. Having seen what had happened to the poor sod that had been experimented on already, Elowyn felt sick to her stomach at the thought of General Strucker or, Gods forbid, the Grand Magus drinking the stuff. Grimbeard snorted derisively, then smirked a little,

“Oh you did, did you?” he asked lightly, gesturing for a younger female dwarf with the same lumpen features as his own to come forward with a box. He took the box from the woman then opened it and held it out to Elowyn, “Then how do you explain this?” he asked, his tone acidic, yet also triumphant. Meredith shoved her way past several other dwarves to get a good look at what was in the box. Several other clerics reeled back in revulsion, allowing her to squirm past them. Her stomach turned at the sight that greeted her. Within the box was the messily severed head of a dwarf with similar features to the Inquisitor’s. The grey eyes were open and glassy, staring up at nothing, the mouth hung open in a pained scream. A murmur rushed through the crowd. Meredith looked up at Elowyn, who met her gaze for the briefest of moments before the woodling turned her furious attention back to Grimbeard, who was now smirking more broadly,

“What’s the matter, hen? Cat got your tongue?” he asked, sounding gleeful at the idea of catching the shorter woman and teenaged human in front of him in a lie. He seemed to have forgotten that Starhammer was still standing in the doorway down to the basement level. The older dwarf heaved a sigh,

“Put that away. Have ye no sense o’ decorum?” he rumbled, “Besides which, I rather think we ought to hear what Sergeant O’Toreguarde has to say. It’s rare for the lassie to be wrong, but I’m sure we can sort out exactly what’s -” Grimbeard rounded on the high priest, a nasty scowl marring his face, making it seem even more twisted than before,

“And you should know your place Starhammer!” he snarled, “I’m the Inquisitor o’ this church, and I say that the lassie is wrong!” Meredith scowled as she pushed past the Inquisitor to stand beside her friends. She knew Elowyn better than anyone else in this room, and Elowyn never lied. She glared at the Inquisitor, a swell of righteous fury building in her chest, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Starhammer strode up to the shorter dwarf, a dreadful surge of power building up around him. He stopped short of having their noses touch,

“You might well outrank me, Inquisitor,” he growled dangerously, “but you’ve still a lot to learn about how to read folk.” Starhammer gestured in the direction of the trio of adventurers, “I place my faith in Moradin, and He has placed His faith in these three young’uns. Ergo, I will believe their testimony over yours.” Meredith hardly dared to breath. The fury of a fully trained Cleric of Moradin was a terrible thing to behold, and she wondered if it was a good idea to remain in the vicinity. She glanced at Darius, who had already paled significantly having felt the pull of magic towards the old dwarf. Elowyn, on the other hand, seemed determined to stay put. Meredith internally rolled her eyes at herself. Of course she was. Elowyn was a watchperson first and then a paladin besides. If the woodling believed Grimbeard to be involved in an insidious plot to murder tens, if not hundreds of people, then she was not going to let a silly thing like a massive explosion of divine power get in her way. Well, if Elowyn was staying, then so was she.

Meredith returned her attention to Grimbeard and Starhammer, who had now cleared more space around them. Most of the youngest acolytes had already fled the area, and even the older clerics seemed to have enough sense to start scurrying back to the barroom. Gossip was all well and good, but it would be conducted more safely at a greater distance. Grimbeard flushed under his greasy beard,

“Recant your words, or I'll have you excommunicated.” he snarled, “You are the one forgetting your place High Priest. I have been blessed by Moradin to seek out those who would undermine His work, and I say the lassie and her friend are seeking to do just that. The Watch are never to be trusted in ecumenical matters, and non-dwarves should stay out of our business.” Starhammer’s gaze hardened as he looked into the Inquisitor’s eyes. He then turned to Elowyn,

“What say you Sergeant, or should I say, Lady O’Toreguarde?” he asked lightly, “What is your professional opinion on this?” Meredith couldn’t help a small smile gracing her lips at the slight emphasis on the word’ professional’.

Elowyn, who was still glaring daggers at Grimbeard nodded and gingerly turned on her Detect Evil ability. A lance of pain coursed through her temple as she gazed at the Inquisitor in front of her. The dwarf, and the younger woman behind him, were both blazing a deep crimson. She quickly turned the ability off again and took a step forward,

“Inquisitor Grimbeard, I am hereby arresting you and your family members for the charges of conspiracy against the Toreguarde Council -” she was quickly interrupted as Grimbeard let out a yell of frustration and hurled the box in his hands towards Starhammer, who neatly stepped out of the way. The head within tumbled free and turned into a stinking, sticky grey jelly, landing with a wet splat on the flagstones of the floor. Meredith went to rush forward to assist Elowyn, but before either woodling or dwarf could reach him, both Grimbeard and his niece had already turned to grey-ish coloured slime and slithered between the cracks in the floor.

“Dinna just stand there! After them!” Starhammer rumbled angrily to the guards, who had been watching the whole scene with expressions of concerned confusion the whole time. Immediately the one in the most richly decorated armour nodded, tapped his comrades on their pauldrons and all six of the Morahir paladins rushed down the basement stairs in an attempt to follow the Inquisitor. Elowyn growled in frustration, staring at the floor that the two Grimbeards had fallen through. Meredith, for her part walked over to Starhammer, who was flushed under his beard with anger,

“Forgive me, Father, but the Moradhir’ll be lucky to find them.” she said, “Why don’t you let Elo and I handle this? It’s not like we’ve got much else to do right now, and I very much doubt Elowyn wants to let Grimbeard and his family get away with this.” she added, glancing over to Elowyn. Darius stepped forward, standing beside the young dwarf,

“Me too.” he said quietly, “I mean, I saw what it was that they were talking to down in the sewers and…” the teen trailed off with a slightly scared gulp, “This is probably way bigger than anything the Guard or Watch can handle.” Starhammer glanced over to Darius, his angry expression lifting into one of mild concern. Meredith cocked her head as she too turned to her younger friend,

“What was it ye saw, exactly?” she asked, “D’you need any of those dispelling potions or..?”

“It wasn’t the extra-planar stuff.” Elowyn sighed, “Mostly because I saw it too.” Meredith snapped her head around to look at Elowyn, fear and concern gripping her heart. The tone in the woodling’s voice suggested something far worse than what Meredith herself had initially thought, and that scared her. Starhammer sighed and gestured towards the barroom,

“Let’s get a drink and you can tell me what exactly it was you saw.” he said, his voice heavy. Meredith glanced back at where the fake head had fallen. The slime had eaten through the floor and left a still steaming hole. She swallowed thickly and nodded, quickly shuffling through the now dissipating crowd after her High Priest and friends. Whatever it was that was going on, something in her gut was telling her that it was something far bigger than just a plot against the Toreguarde Council. The way Grimbeard had been shrieking about Moradin had left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and his rant against non-dwarves… The cleric mentally shook herself. There would be time enough to work out what this all meant. For now, she needed to stay focused on the immediate task at hand, which was the apprehension of Grimbeard and his family and any other associates they might have had help from.

#aquadestinyswriting #writeblrcafe #titan fighting fantasy #Meredith Gruksdottir #Elowyn O'Toreguarde #severed head description tw #fantasy racism tw #fantasy xenophobia tw #fantasy religion tw #Fangthane's Folly and the Anvil's Fall

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demcnsinmymind · 4 months

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Ramblings about hunting and post canon stuff

Once again pretty incoherent rambling but this is just me wanting to talk about some 'hunting' ideas. My main headcanon for post canon is that Lance does get to go home as promised by Azzy when the 'deal' was made between them (it helps him/lets him get out and back home in exchange for it getting to keep him via possession). And that he gets some time to recover and deal with all the messes including the cult and the police being after him and reconciling with who's left in his life. I've talked about it before but I can't see him as a guy to just...vibe, stay home, get back to his old job or find a new one after going through all this, especially with Azzy in his mind. Sooner or later he'll become restless and feel hollow and will need to get entangled with the supernatural again.

I can't see him as a proper hunter hunting for all the right reasons. He's not a bad character, and so not as selfish as he was before canon. He's totally capable of empathy and doesn't want to hurt people for fun or in general and his moral compass is somewhat in check. BUT, I just can't see him as the type of hunter to go hunt supernatural stuff for the sake of others. It's a good bonus for him, but he'll mainly do some of it just to get straight up revenge and work out some things because there's so much hatred for monsters in him. Can't see him doing it fulltime either, but he'll mingle with it from time to time. After all, the equipment they used on the show were genuine and he's done his fair share of occult research already pre-canon.

Either way, some fun bits:

some standard equipment simply won't work for him. EMF, spirit boxes and what not - total shitshow because Azzy ovbiously and majorly fucks the equipment up and, well, it's always there, so...

exorcisms and the likes are totally 'fine' since they have no effect on Azzy since that one couldn't give less of a fuck about xianty and any other human religion

but let me tell u about how 'exorcisms' work in their department - Azzy will straight up eat a freaking demon whole. Like, straight up vacuum cleaner that thing out of a person. no banishing a demon back to hell or whatever, nope. straight up eaten

same goes for any other supernatural source/power, honestly. poltergeist, run at the mill ghost, you name it, straight up fucking lunched away, gone forever, problem solved. and that's all fine with the boy tbh

Azzy'll try it's best to be a hardcore adblocker regarding supe attacks, and it's damn good at it, making the boy immune against other possessions and the likes, BUT, technically the boy totally can get infected with supe viruses like vampirism and the likes, and sooner or later, Azzy might actively try to get him infected with that type to give it more power and make him immortal for it

sad as it makes me, I somehow don't think Lance'll take much pitty in other possessed people. Demons are a major trigger, and thus, wanting to kill them/hurt the/give them payback might just outweight his empathy and care in that department, aka he won't shy away from hurting other possessed folks, if he has to. He kinda is a bit of a privileged dickhead in that department, because he's thinking that if he can handle possession and fight back, so can they if they wanted to

#headcanons #hc : supernatural #hc : aza/thoth #hc : habits #hc : psyche #hc : likes

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king-of-wrath · 1 year

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I like to think that the Exorcists are Hazbin's antagonists not because Heaven is intolerant of non-cis non-straight non-Abrahamic people or because Vivzie's declaring "religion bad" in cartoon form, but because Heaven sees morality in terms of absolutes: that is, if you do x or y even once, you're evil, you go to Hell and you can NEVER be forgiven

Consider the characters we've actually seen be denied entrance to Heaven (yes, these are Helluva characters and Helluva is a spin-off, but unless Vivzie declares "Helluva's a side project I'm doing just for fun, it's unrelated to Hazbin and its lore doesn't mirror Hazbin lore", we can reference Helluva):

Mayberry was a passionate teacher who's spent years being a positive role model for children, but she was damned because she murdered her husband in a fit of rage. Heaven didn't take into account the good deeds she had done and instead judged her for that one wrongful act. Her kindness to children, her inspiring them to do good and whatever good deeds those children would go on to do didn't matter---she killed someone and is therefore irredeemable

Cleetus, Keenie and Collin were cherubs who committed themselves to saving souls, but were banished from Heaven because one person was killed in an accident. They consoled a suicidal man, convincing him that life was worth living and that he could spend the remainder of his life (and his vast wealth) in service to others. But despite the fact they accomplished their mission (and who knows how many others prior to this), they were banished. It didn't matter that they were fighting literal hellspawn trying to steal his soul, they failed to protect someone and for that, they are forbidden from returning home

As Alastor said in the Hazbin pilot, the very reason sinners are sent to Hell is to be punished. However, the annual purges began because Hell was "too overpopulated" and Heaven saw fit to kill rather than forgive. The Exorcists don't bother to check who they kill or what their victims' sins were---because in their minds, everyone in Hell is terrible and no matter why they were sent to Hell, they deserve total oblivion

If Exorcists ever got to Mayberry, she would be destroyed without a second thought. The two scientists whose experiments killed untold numbers of impoverished people would also be destroyed, but that's IF they were caught

We see Wally Wackford employ the scientists and understandably, he wouldn't want to lose his new inventors. We also see Valentino, Velvet and Vox surviving the annual purge---presumably because of the wealth and power they possess (along with others in the pilot). The scientists would be protected from the purge, having a serious advantage over Mayberry

But the Exorcists' job is to kill everyone they can within a certain time limit. They don't spend their time attacking fortified buildings or pursuing Hell's worst, they just kill whoever isn't in shelter when the purge begins

We don't know if there's an actual quota the Exorcists have, but they place importance on quantity---that is, the number of souls purged. The more souls are purged, the more space is freed. If they can get the two scientists, that's great. But if given the choice between a defenseless Mayberry and two well-defended scientists, they'd kill Mayberry. Two worse sinners would survive and one potentially forgivable sinner would be lost forever

So Charlie reveals her plan to handle the overpopulation and end the purges: to rehabilitate sinners in the hopes that they'd be admitted to Heaven, thus reducing Hell's population. Her biggest hurdle, however is actually making a sinner worthy of redemption in the eyes of Heaven

If Heaven thought there was even a possibility that sinners could be reformed, they'd give Hell a stay of execution to test Charlie's theory. If Heaven believed sinners could be reformed, they'd send Charlie help. But so far, Heaven isn't pausing the purges or helping reform sinners---instead, they're ordering the destruction of countless souls every year and do so without much guilt

#ooc nonsense #dash commentary

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dailycaligura · 5 months

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Dailycaligura, I'm asking you this here instead of your main but which holiday do you think Caligura likes the most?

Ah damn, that’s pretty awkward ahah. Yeah I’m sometimes whining on main that I’m bored and asking for asks, well now that blog also will see it, why not. Btw let’s make that blog not just daily one, but like just a Caligura shrine, so you more than welcome to just ask me questions and read the best, not cringe or edgy, very canonical, etc etc, headcanons, which is mine ((((:

Ok sorry, but you got the point. Now to the question, I never actually thought of it! It’s pretty interesting topic, so I want it kind of to discuss. Cutting the post because there will be a lot of rambling yeah lol.

First of all, obvious thing but still needs to be mentioned, he’s a mafiosi and there’s a looot, if not everything, is tied to his connections with people, how they see him, what they think about him, his reputation in different layers of that hierarchy overall. So all these holidays he usually spends with company’s of other fat dudes in expensive suits, well and their wives and kids sometimes, need to make a certain impression on them too, duh. That way he’s not really have that much of a thoughts about the holiday itself, it’s just a day off where he can drink and eat for free, when events hosted by others of course, and be charismatic bastard and talk, talk and talk. The real holiday is when he finally coming home and being left alone lol!

Now let’s start with the most common one - religious holidays, like Christmas or Easter, whatever in F&H world they would be called like. That pretty much connects with his relationships with religion itself, I have a loot of headcanons about that, but in short it’s just really complicated. He don’t like the idea of living by some ancient rules, following strict discipline, being all that devoted without right to just reaching personal goals and all that shit, but ironically with religion and church he haves the best of memories. Usually with the priests actually, they know how to listen and that’s what he’s needs the most, but church and mafia is in business so boo hoo, all his secrets getting sold and now he have another shit ton of guys to torture and kill, and some poor bastard who he thought can became he’s friend finally. Ok whatever, he having just really mixed feelings about all of this, maybe drinking a little too much on these, to skip that all faster or try not to remember something’s.

The next one is New Year which is I don’t really know what is sort of holidays? Well, it’ll be just in its own section then. As much as I know in religious county’s it’s not that much of a deal than Christmas, but since all that holidays just fucking office party’s of mafia it’s pretty much just summary of year thing. He never felt anything about New Years, really, but older he gets, more melancholic that night gets. So I think he tends to celebrate it on his own in his later years, he’s a big shot in The Family already, skipping that one a year event is not that much of a problem for his reputation, I think. He’d just sit on the kitchen with some good champagne, with playing radio or tv on the background, and drinking it thoughtfully, also sighing a lot. Years went by and he’s not getting younger, what a sad thing to understand isn’t it?

If I started with sole holiday then let’s continue on that - his birthday. Pretty obviously he don’t like it, just like New Year’s more and more with each year passing by. He don’t want to remember how old he is, and that’s pretty personal holiday, and he don’t have a single living soul he saw as his loved or at least close ones, which is also pretty annoying reminder lol. There some people who knows when the date is, of course, even gifting him something, but just to buy his loyalty, and these guys is a newbies that don’t know yet that it only annoys him, and also the fuck worthy can you gift to someone who owns a shit ton of anything? So yeah, not celebrating, don’t like it, just maybe some another reason to drink more than usual.

Next - all that national holidays, I’m ashamed but I’m not really good at Italian culture, like at all actually, my passion is UK I’m sorry haha. But a read now about some and ok it just international, religious and important historical dates, but that also carnival thing and Halloween, so let’s think to these and alike. Those that being mentioned is about costumes and I think he’d like that one! If it’s not obvious already, I’m seeing him a fashion catastrophe, he loves it, making his own style and even doing makeup and painting nails himself, because if you wanna make it the best make it by yourself. Maybe he’d even waste some time for designing some clothes, not sewing himself of course, but going with it in the atelier and paying shit ton of money haha, good for him. Anyways yeah, I think he’d love to put on some expensive clothes of his own idea and whit his own style and showing it to the public. Pretty sure he’d do it only when he already establishes in The Family because let’s be real, some already weird in attitude dude with a fucking makeup and eccentric clothes wouldn’t make a best of the impression on a serious dirty business guys, fucking old mans mostly, so yeaaah, he needed to wait some time to show off all his artistic power lol.

Well, not sure if that that’s much of a holiday, but that’s pretty important to the mafia ya know - funerals. That’s actually another chance for him to show off his fashion style because it’s a big deal and at the same time it’s nothing, important fucker is already laying in the coffin, waiting to be put 6 ft down and became one with the ashes he came from, but still his power and connections is floating, intangibly, somewhere in the air, above and in the heads of all who attending. What a place of controversies huh? So of course he couldn’t not to make a deal of all of that, and also he needs to be in black because traditions, but his style is white! And by that change he speechlessly showing what he’s thinking of the dead one - if that someone who he didn’t like he’d come in usual white, if that some who he was loyal to he’d be, like needed, in black, but if that some ironic situation where he killed or somehow was connected to the death of the man of the day than he’d also come in black, but expressly theatrically. But he’s actually would be theatrical in all the cases, just not in the clothes matter, but in the attitude, he don’t give a shit about the fucker that passed away, so all his words would be also expressively sad, tragic even, that’s why he’s never giving speeches on funerals lolol. But in the case of being invited to the funeral of those who he killed in any way theatrical shit getting only worse. Those who know what is what would see that as pointlessly eccentric performance, those who don’t, usually family and close friends of the dead one, would see that as a cruel mockery, anyways Caligura is happy with that. All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players after all, and these hypocritical events is the best scenes with the best audience to perform. Well if summary that all then he’s like these events as much as hates, he need to say what he’s not actually thinks for too long, that’s annoying.

And continue with mafia important holidays - weddings. All I can think for that one is opening scene from the Godfather so oh yeah, Caligura likes that one. It’s full of fun things with a good chances to make some good acquaintances. And I’m gonna shamelessly dump another headcanon that is kind of tided to the theme. He’s usually playing the cool uncle role for other mafiosi’s kids, which is a good way to have more power on their parents and overall it’s just a good contribution for the future. But he’d never admit, even to himself, that he’s actually genuinely love that role, that fake feeling of a family, being liked by someone, being seen as someone who little one can always come for help, and the kids pays him back with usually thinking of him as the best of uncles. Sometimes even preferring to tell some personal problems to him than to parents, because he have much more chances to do something about it and to make some poor family of kid that wasn’t the nicest to the mafioso kid a funny, fucking, life. And also he’s goos with weapons and cooking, so he can both teach things to boys and girls. That way weddings becoming even personal, like he’s the dad of bride or groom haha. Sad and happy holiday at the same time, but mostly second one. I mean he have all the chances to be the one who’s gonna skin alive the partner if he or she commit some wrongdoing’s, so what’s there be sad about, really.

Hmm, what else, idk honestly, and I’m sleepy already so let’s call it a day. Maybe there worth mentioning some little things like others birthdays or whatever, but in these cases he thinks literally nothing because whatever, just drink there, talk some shit for the best, and go home or back to work, nothing interesting. In conclusion I can say that I thinks he’d like the most all these costume holidays and weddings, funerals on third place(or second because costume party’s and weddings both on first? Idk man), it’s annoying but funny sometimes haha. Thanks for the question it was interesting to think it out!! Byee, and I’m going to sleep now, on the 7 am, welp.

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tsuki-sennin · 1 year

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Our beloved Ohsama Sentai planned to reveal Gira's deception in spectacular fashion... but of course, freakin' Jeremy had to come in and steal all our thunder! That jerk is yuckin' it up in his narration, acting so smart and tough. Who does he think he is?!

...well, that's partly why we're here today~!

Spoilers, I guess...

-"I'm the king, dum-dum. I can do whatever I want."

-Noooooo, Himeno!

-You've gone too far this time, Spiders Jeremy!

Yanma: Yes, we know about the King-Ohger book. It's only the foundation of literally all organized religion in the world. Jeremy: Oh cool, then you'd be happy to know that I wrote it all down~!

-Damn, okay I see you King-Ohger.

-I don't think we've had a (proper) Sixth Ranger be genuinely and consciously villainous since Mikoto.

-I suppose it's fitting he's white, black, and gold on a story involving an alternate Earth.

-...of course, I'm counting my chickens a bit early, so...

-He was biding his time, that Jeremy.

-"Whoa, what!?"

-I see Rita's never heard of Rip van Winkle.

-I'm going to be feeling a lot of things about Jeremy, aren't I?

-Hi Dezzy, sorry I thought you blew up last episode.

-Morphonia, hello~!

-Just like Racules, eh?

-We now have a whopping three antagonistic factions all at the same time in the 12th episode.

-"Duuuuude, spoilers! Sheesh, just give me a headcanon, eh? :3"

-"I headcanon you as a menace to decent society."

-"See, now you get it~!"

-Read between the lines~!

-Man, these ski-lift chairs must be really disorienting to sit on.

-Oh

-He got us.

-T

-The Thundercracker?

-"Give me the spider boy, bee boy."

-Ohhhhhhh

-Holding a little lady hostage, eh Racules?

-Suzume, Suzume... I'm not sure what manner of bee she'd represent, but

-N'Kosopa~! Lie detection~!

-OH MY GOD

-Damn, okay!

-"Owie"

-"So like, are you supposed to be killing me?"

-Jeremy Brasieri. A little over 2000 years old.

-SHIOKARA NOOO nLHJKHLB

-YANMA WHAT THE HELL MAN

-G

-Gin

-I have to imagine what it's like to see them live.

-"Not bad, you sure know what you're doing~!"

-OH

-Okay, guess it's Himeno's turn to analyze

-Rita's screms give me life.

-They kidnapped him.

-"My, you're scary~!"

-I see Himeno changed her hair back.

-"Oh is that all~?"

-"You are the Spider Man."

-Well, he's got the sass, the powers, the Anti-Venom/Spider Armor Mk. 1 color scheme...

-...speaking of which, I plan on seeing Spider-Verse 2 Part 1 soon.

-The way he's both a storyteller and playing literally everyone around him is also definitely a send up to Anansi, from the West African Akan people's folklore.

-Jeremy the Spider Man.

-Help us out, Kaguragi.

-"I'm a bigger liar than you, spider boy!"

-D

-Dude?

-"Wonderful."

-Well, he's definitely got the moves. I'd expect nothing less from him

-"Come ON, dude~! You've gotta know~!"

-THEY'RE DENYING HIM HIS COOL REVEAL

-"Jesus Christ, you people SUCK at this!"

-Six~!

-Ohhhhhh

-OH?

-I really like this silhouette art-style.

-Very puppet theater-y.

-Ohhhhhh

-Quite literally. Spiders Jeremy.

-LHJK>H

-"Yeah, I can get behind peace :)"

-Pan icon Jeremy Brasieri.

-...I feel very personally marketed to by Spiders Jeremy.

-"...did I just make friends? ...I guess I did~!"

-Hello Dezzy!

-...I guess he says no.

-...ohhhhh, his jingle

-His transformation

-His INSERT SONG

-HIS FIGHTING STYLE

-HIS MOVES

-This character is everything now.

-"See you later, I suppose."

-I swear my fealty to you, my king.

-Ohhhhh, that's a tarantula.

-A big one too.

-...I am feeling many things.

-I think they're good things?

-Idk man, Sixth Rangers are just

-The most effective marketing tactic of all time

#Rejoice O Swarming Evil! You're My King!#ohsama sentai king ohger #ohsama sentai kingohger #super sentai #kingohger spoilers #king ohger spoilers #kingohger

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whatyourusherthinks · 3 months

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Bob Marley: One Love Review

Bob Marley: One Love has had a weird pre-watching history for me. When I heard the premise, I thought, dope. I'd totally watch a Bob Marley biopic. Then a manager at work told me it was supposed to come out last year and they had screenings that went down horribly. Egh. But the opening weekend sold a lot of tickets! And sales went significantly down shortly after...

Whatever happens this is going to be interesting.

What's The Movie About?

The biopic shows the attempted assassination of Bob and the aftermath of everyone's survival. Kinda.

What I Liked.

First, the music is really good. Obviously. There was a couple moments here and there I thought were pretty interesting, for example they showed Bob getting the inspiration of the album Exodus and that was cool. I liked Bob's charity work and how they showed his beliefs through his music career. And there was a pretty touching moment at the end when Bob confronts his would-be assassin, although I don't know if it actually happened or not.

What I Didn't Like.

The story is unfocused. It starts about Bob dealing with the aftermath of the shooting and having PTSD, but then he moves to London and it seems like the movie completely forgets about that plot point. There's three plot developments that seem like they should important but are brought up 40 minutes before the credits roll and resolve super quick, or is the outcome of the plot point is explained with text over actual pictures or video of the real Bob Marley. Speaking of which, this is a nitpick, but the actor who plays Bob Marley does not look like him, and it's really obvious with the ending. Also, there's a scene of the Bob singing 'Three Little Birds' and he stops and the crowd continues to sing in the trailer that is not in the final movie. Speaking if nitpicks, there's like a million flashbacks in the movie that aren't presented super well, but whenever the flashback to Bob and his wife when they are young adults (I think they're supposed to be like 18 or 20) the actors look 15. Also, I went to see this movie with my sister. And we couldn't understand half the dialogue. Is it because we're two white kids who've never been to or met anyone from Jamaica? Probably.

My final criticism is getting it's own section because I feel like I'll need to justify myself, but half this movie is a shitty religious movie. What I mean by that is half the movie is about Rastafari and how Bob Marley is a believer of that religion, but rather that having an explanation of the religion or focusing on debate between people of different faiths, it's just dogma. Either Bob says he's struggling emotionally and his wife or his priest says "Believe Rastafari!" and he's all better, or some white guy is questioning how he's promoting himself or making his music and he says "I'm doing it the way Rastafari wants!" and it completely shuts down the conversation. See, I've praised spirituality in other movies like The Color Purple, but that felt like I was being explained a unique perspective on an already existing belief. I like learning about theology because I'm gaining knowledge that can be pretty damn fascinating. The only thing I really learned from this movie is that Lions are an important symbol of Rastafarians, but I don't know why. It's just reiterating the movie's beliefs, refusing to accept criticism, and saying fuck you if you disagree.

Final Summation.

So the movie is not good. It's fine, but my big sticking point is that the only reason to see this movie is to hear the music, and to learn about Bob Marley. And you could literally get the same experience reading Bob's Wikipedia page while listening to a Bob Marley and the Wailers record. So save your money on a ticket.

#Bob Marley: One Love #Rejected Movies

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