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petsdenonne · 10 months

Note

hi!! may i request some arkham knight jason smut with a lot of oral? 👀

Should’ve listened

Pairing: ArkhamKnight!Jason x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Gun against jaw (for a second in a non-sexual scene), Oral, brief mention of church, semi-public sex.

Word Count: 1,426

Summary: After zoning out at a bad time, you come to learn that maybe it isn’t bad after all.

Authors note: oh my god, I forgot how feral I am for AK!Jason, like ugh, I went down a little rabbit hole of research to refresh my brain after writing so much RH!Jason and I’m sure glad I did. Thank you, Anon 💕 Gonna have to play Batman: Arkham knight again even though I’ve already finished it.

✨MASTERLISTS✨

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Your breathing faltered as the air got caught in your throat at the sight of him, your heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears. You had heard others talking about him, and you’d seen photos and videos in the media, but none of them had quite done him any sort of justice.

You couldn’t even see his face, it being covered by a full helmet with bat ears and an LED panel front, yet you were still intrigued.

The way he walked and carried himself, the way his body language demanded respect, and how his voice came out all husky and modified through the modulator had a dampness forming in your underwear.

You shook your head a little to try to clear the thoughts swarming your mind, thoughts you definitely should not in any circumstances be thinking about the Arkham Knight-

“Did you just shake your head no?” His voice abruptly cut in.

Oh, shit.

Your head shake had been a lot stronger than you had intended for it to be, causing him to think that you were disagreeing with what he had been saying to the group of mercenaries present tonight, which you had zoned out of to focus on what his hands might feel like on your body, so you had no idea what you had even accidentally said no to.

“No”

“No? Are you sure?”

“Maybe?”

Scoffing he pushed past a couple of people to get to where you were standing in the back row, looming over you as he closed the gap between you intimidatingly.

“I said that I am going to hand-pick people present here for my personal squad tonight, and you thinking that you have a say of your own makes you target number one, you shaking your head no, thinking you have freewill means you’re stuck to my side tonight… Say no to me again, and I’m going to make you wish you don’t even have a head to shake next time. Am I clear?”

“Yes” You said under your breath, distracted by how close he was to you. If you were brave enough you could reach out and touch him, run your hands along the armoured plating on his chest.

“Excuse me? Speak up” You only registered what he had said as you felt the cold barrel of his gun press into the underside of your jaw, the metal digging into your skin a little bit.

“Yes” You repeated, this time a lot louder “Yes, you are clear.”

—-------------

Oh, of course, the one day you mess up and get forced to stick to Arkham Knight’s side is the one where he decides he is going to stand on a random Gotham rooftop and overlook the city.

You’d never really been that fond of heights, not since you’d fallen off that wall at school and broken your left arm in three places. This must have been God’s way of punishing you for not going to church since you’d flown the nest.

To your right, you could see him in your peripheral setting up some sort of equipment quickly and gracefully like he had done it a thousand times before, which you realised he probably had when you turned to look at what it was and saw that it was a sniper tripod. His fingers worked smoothly to set up the rifle and attach it to the joint. As a bone-biting breeze blew through you, you began to rub your arms a little to try to generate some sort of warmth, walking over to where he was working as you began to feel a little dizzy from how close you were to the edge, you really didn’t need to be fainting and going over.

The thought made you dry heave a little which caused him to stop working momentarily. His hands paused as if he was listening to see if you were going to throw up.

“Sit” He instructed bluntly as his hands again began to move, a small tut under his breath as one of the parts didn’t quite click in as it should.

Blinking a couple of times you stayed standing for a few seconds before you immediately began to move so your arse was on the asphalt as he turned to look at you, even though you weren’t able to see his eyes you could feel them burning into you.

“Good” a small huff sounded through his modulator “Now stay there. I don’t have time to scrape you off of the pavement”

You don’t know why you did it, but you scoffed at that statement. As soon as it left your mouth you could feel the air around you tense up, oh shit.

“Excuse me?” Standing up, he walked over so that he was towering over you. Making you feel like an ant against him, the flickering LED display of his helmet causing a sense of unease to burrow deep into your gut “Up. Now. Get over there.”

—--------

You knew the Arkham Knight liked to punish those who went against him, liked to torture them until they were so out of it that even prayers and begging wouldn’t pass their lips anymore, because they knew they were already in hell.

When he told you to get up and move you were convinced you were about to go over the edge of the roof, he said he didn’t want to scrape you off of the pavement, but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t cause the mess himself. You hadn’t ever pictured his punishments as…this.

The cold night’s air that had been cutting at your face earlier on was now cutting at your bare arse and pussy, soothing the aching handprint now present on your behind, the firm smack noise and burning sting making you aware that the handprint was now a pair. His fingers lightly rubbed against the growing welt to soothe it a little before tracing down the back of your thigh as he knelt down behind you, making you bend further over the air conditioning unit that was currently supporting your body weight.

“Keep your head forward” He demanded, not wanting to piss him off more you obeyed, keeping your eyes locked on the city view as you heard his helmet release and slide off of his head, there was a slight heavy noise as he placed it down- fuck.

Holy shit.

Your focus was interrupted by the feeling of his tongue gliding through your folds, teasingly skipping over your clit as he went. You could feel him gripping onto your thighs as he repeated the path a couple of times before he finally focused in on the bundle of nerves. Closing his lips around it he began to suck, gently at first but quickly growing in force. A whimper-like moan left your lips, causing him to spank you again “Shut up.”

Without his helmet on you could hear his voice for what it actually was. Liquid gold.

A thick Gotham accent with a husky tone to it, you didn’t really care for the specifics of his voice too much, you just know it added to the growing pressure in your stomach.

Whilst you had been distracted by what he sounded like he had decided that he was done being soft, and was now going to eat you like a starved man.

His tongue lapped at your wetness before pushing deep into you, his calloused thumb moving to circle your clit to help you reach your peak faster. Hard breathy moans vibrated into your pussy as he went, causing you to moan louder than before, but this time he didn’t silence you. Because this time he would be a hypocrite.

As you tilted your head down slightly to try to not lose yourself you could see that he had unbuckled his trousers and the tact straps that usually kept his pistols on his thighs so he could pull his trousers and boxers down to his knees, his hard cock currently trapped in his tight fist as he pumped in time with his tongue moving in and out of you.

The sight made you hit your high, releasing over his mouth and chin as you let out a strangled groan, after a few short moments you’d hear a similar noise but deeper, more masculine, before the asphalt where he was kneeling was glazed in his own spend.

“I think you should be a brat more often, Doll” He said as he kissed your inner thighs.

His boyish cocky grin would be ingrained in your brain until you died.

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#dc #jason todd #red hood #arkham knight jason #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood smut #arkham knight x reader

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jokeroutsubs · 4 months

Text

ENG translation: If we believed that we were "kings", that wouldn't be us

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin for Slovenian newspaper Delo, originally published on 24.12.2023. Audio version by IG GBoleyn123

Original article is available here for Delo subscribers. Original article written by Lucijan Zalokar for Delo; photos by Jože Suhadolnik; English translation by a member of Joker Out Subs, native proof reading by IG GBoleyn123.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

With Bojan Cvjetićanin about the international breakthrough of Joker Out, the movie Kaj pa Ester?, about life on the road, football, sociology…

I met up with Bojan Cvjetićanin in Ljubljana's Stegne industrial zone, where the members of the popular pop rock (in their jargon: shagadelic rock'n'roll) group Joker Out created a rehearsal space for themselves two years ago. "Lately we've been on the road a lot, but this is still a great second home. If only you knew about the parties that happened here. There were fifty people dancing downstairs," he proudly looked from a small gallery towards the space that measures approximately thirty square metres. Even though the clock had just struck three in the afternoon, the 24-year-old Ljubljana resident had a long day behind him, which had been entirely dedicated to media obligations.

In journalistic circles, we often hear indignation about how modern day influencers - especially those who had gained their influence on social media - have no books on their shelves. Joker Out are first and foremost musicians, of course, but with 150,000 followers (Bojan's personal profile has 190,000) on Instagram, we can count them among the big Slovenian influencers. And there are plenty of books on their shelves.

I don't want to falsely portray the popular fivesome as enlightened donors to the Slovenian literary market: most of the books resemble those you can buy for little money in second-hand bookshops, or even get for free at library write-offs, but they still deserve praise for both the aesthetic sense and the content.

I also don't want to falsely portray the books as the only notable objects in the rehearsal space. There are also the golden plate for the Eurovision single Carpe Diem, which got over two million streams in Finland, a transfusion bag (Rh-) that Tomi Meglič¹, Cvjetićanin's biggest teenage idol, personally brought to them, and a small shop's worth of props given to them by fans: pillows with hand-embroidered patterns, plushies, bras with Instagram accounts written on them, various sweets, you could even find a vinyl from a Soviet cover band of The Beatles. If things continue like that, they soon won't have any space left for instruments, but those are just sweet worries. Joker Out, who were formed in 2016, are currently conquering Europe in a way that the Slovenian music scene has never seen before.

¹frontman of Siddharta, whose third album was called Rh-

I've heard that you approach your job with the utmost professionalism and that you wake up at five in the morning for media obligations.

That's true, today we started early in the morning in Maribor. The first few hours were the most tiring because we were constantly changing locations and driving around the city. After the third or fourth activity, we relaxed a little because we got to the studio. After that, everyone started coming to us instead of the other way around.

Slovenian cinemas have started playing the movie Kaj pa Ester? in which you play a boy who enrolled in high school just to get close to his ex girlfriend again. Did you have any problems with trying to get into the high school mentality?

We filmed the movie two years ago, when my memories of high school were much more fresh than they are today. But on the other hand, I played a boy who had just finished the ninth grade of primary school, so I had to put myself into the shoes of a primary school kid, which is much harder. We're also pretty different personality-wise. But almost the entire cast was around the same age, so too old. We joked about that a lot during filming.

Still, that's nothing unusual in the movie world.

Of course, there are 35-year-olds starring in High School Musical and no one is complaining.

Could you draw any parallels between a musical stage performance and filming a movie? You have to play a kind of role during a concert too...

I have to admit that it's completely different. On stage, I never feel like I'm performing. Of course I am actually performing, but I'm still in the role of myself, Bojan, whereas in the movie, I'm someone completely different. It might be easier to compare filming a movie with recording music in the studio, but there are big differences there as well. The biggest one is that for a movie, the director has the main and the final say. You have to trust him. When you film a scene, you don't even see what you've filmed for a long time. The movie in which I play one of the main roles will be played in cinemas, and I don't even know what I will look like on the big screen. It's different with music, because us authors listen to the songs a hundred times, a thousand times; we're the ones who make all the final decisions. That's quite a mental leap, but I didn't have too many problems with it, because I knew the previous projects of that team. V dvoje ('In a tandem') is my favourite Slovenian TV series. On the other hand, I needed time to get used to this new method of working. If I asked to see the scene we'd filmed one more time, but the director said it was good, we kept filming without hesitation.

You said that on stage, you are always in the role of yourself. Does the nature of that role change from concert to concert? And what influences it? The audience, the outfit…

The outfit has an influence for sure. More than I initially thought. Lately we've been playing with our stage look a lot and looking for the right combination. I currently find that the outfit suits me very well, it's just the shoes that bother me because they're too rigid. I have to change them. They're huge and massive, which makes me feel like I'm clumsily marching around the stage, whereas during rehearsals I wear sneakers and I'm therefore a lot more in the mood for dancing.

What about the language you sing in? Many people say that they feel as if by switching between different languages, they are also switching between their personalities.

I agree. When you change the language, your voice has a different colour and register, you come up with different jokes than in your mother tongue. If I lead a concert in Slovenian, Serbian, or English, I'm a different dude every time. This is also influenced by my notion that each time, I'm performing for a different group of people who are connected by a certain mentality. In Slovenia, I'm performing as a local for locals, and I feel like there are different "game rules" than for example in Croatia or Serbia. Elsewhere, I feel like I don't even think about this.

How did you get the idea to start creating and singing in English? You already broke through internationally with Slovenian.

Us creating in foreign languages isn't so much a result of wanting to break through internationally and the mentality that only English ensures global success. If we thought that way, we wouldn't have gone to Eurovision with a Slovenian song. We're primarily driven by a desire to learn new things, to push the boundaries... In the studio, it's similar to being on the stage. If you change the language, you're not only a different person on stage, but also inside your head. Your creativity is different. Playing with languages is actually also playing with your own creativity, because you enter a different space, a different mentality. The song Sunny Side of London could not have been made if we hadn't mentally transported ourselves to an English-speaking space. We want many more projects like that, not necessarily in English.

Can you be more specific? What kind of mentality do you associate Sunny Side of London with?

That song is a sort of homage to all the people who have suddenly become part of our story. Sunny Side of London has nothing to do with London as such. I was looking for a name of a well-known place with which to name all our concerts, and I decided on London.

The first time I said the words Are you guys real? – Is this really happening, are you really here and singing our songs? – on the stage, certain English phrases snuck into my mind. What the hell is going on? and so on. We also experienced, for the first time, foreigners coming up to us and talking about their own experiences connected to our music. That was something completely new for us. We listened to all those stories in English, as our fans of course can't speak Slovenian, even though they can sing our Slovenian lyrics. Sunny Side of London therefore emerged as a collection of all the experiences and stories that fans told us after gigs.

You've already touched on fans who sing your lyrics by heart from Finland to Spain. Could you highlight the nation with the best ear for the Slovenian language?

On the latest tour, when we visited Lithuania, Poland, Czechia and Croatia, there were moments when I felt like I was singing in Slovenia. In Prague, I filmed the audience singing Umazane misli without me. As if I were in Križanke, for example. But it's even more fascinating that people sing well in England and Nordic countries too. It's understandable that our Slavic brothers have the best ear for Slovenian, but northerners aren't far off either.

How much of your international success do you attribute to the Eurovision performance?

A huge amount.

If you had to express it in a percentage?

99.9.

Really?

Definitely. It was an incredible catapult. Whenever I ask the audience at our international concerts if anyone was already with us before Eurovision, a few hands shoot up every time, but those are rare exceptions.

How do you explain the fact that you finished in the relatively humble 21st place in Liverpool, but your visibility still grew in leaps and bounds?

We were very, very, very dedicated to the Eurovision project. We put a lot of time and energy into demonstrating to the people who were open to it that we weren't just a three-minute performance, but very much an existing band that has made many songs and that lives on stage. With time, and of course in connection with the Eurovision performance, more and more listeners got to know that. We clearly showed them: we are here, we are real, try it, connect with us.

Because they had so much different content available, this actually happened. I think it was also because they saw that Joker Out really was made out of five completely regular dudes from Slovenia who live a totally normal life, and at the same time we make music and have a great time doing it. That is already a slight deviation from what's been happening recently, when we're being bombarded from all sides by messages that we need to distance ourselves from each other, that we have to hate each other...

That was the sociologist in you talking.

That's true. The atmosphere in society nowadays is such that it emphasises individuality more than building a team. Young people, however, need and want to be part of a community. And we offered them that chance.

Where does your interest in social sciences come from? Your father is a gynecologist, your mother a pediatrician, and you have a degree in sociology.

I had a very good professor in high school. If you wanted to listen to him, he offered a lot of knowledge. Even though sociologists often think about society in an abstract way, the subject always felt tangible to me. I recognised it in very concrete life situations that I was trying to understand. At my final exams, I did a great job with sociology with very little effort – and then made a mistake and enrolled in economics. I wavered between those two options from the start, and in the end, what tipped the scales were the warnings of many people I knew that sociology doesn't have good employment prospects. I gave in to the pressure and very quickly realised I had made the wrong decision. I gave up on economics after the first semester. That was when I seriously threw myself into the band, we made Gola, and then I transferred to sociology and there was happiness all around.

You clearly won't work as a sociologist for a while yet, if ever...

But I am a sociologist.

In your soul?

No, as my profession. Us musicians are sociologists. A lot of sociological terms could easily be transferred into our environment. Locale, for example. In third year, the professor asked me several times: Well, Cvjetićanin, if you have a concert, is that locale or something else? And then I said it was locale and started rambling on. (laughter)

So you are a singing sociologist?

Exactly.

How do you explain the success of Joker Out from a sociological point of view? How do your songs address the zeitgeist?

I write the lyrics exclusively based on stories that really happened. Not necessarily to me, but to people I love. Therefore, I have a strong emotional relationship with the subject matter. My opinion is that there will always be people who will connect with the story if it's real. Because it's easiest for us to connect with real emotions. Our songs are love songs, they talk about finding yourself and personal growth, some are socially critical... I think that I have managed to find the right balance between being direct and being poetic.

I'll word it differently. The Beatles already sang about love and personal growth. And they weren't the first ones by far. Later on, those same themes were covered by hundreds of successful bands and an infinite number of slightly less successful ones.

I think that nowadays, we most often associate societal changes with technological development. Technological advances largely dictate the rhythm of our life. But those advances are mostly just a substitute for something that already existed in the past. The basic emotions have therefore certainly stayed the same. Love, fear, hatred... I think that the use of language is very important here. Even though the emotions don't change, the way we put them into words does. In music, too. I don't sing about a topic the same way my peers would have in the 1970s. Consequentially, our relationship with emotions is changing and evolving as well. As if our entire society is gravitating towards the point of holding the belief that it's better for an individual to feel less and less, and in a more and more censored way.

On the one hand, excessive use of social media and other media causes us to feel like distinct individuals. On the other hand, it connects us to the world and places us into a very wide picture. In every moment, we are only a click away from becoming cosmopolitan and being able to access all the information, events, and people, but at the same time, that's exactly what reminds us that we are a small and actually not very important dot on this planet. The magnitude of everything that's constantly available to us makes us feel small. I think that we mostly listen to, watch, and use those who manage to poke the spot that unnerves people the most in this context. If performers manage to break through the firewall of someone's VPN, then those people will also show their interest in an analogue way. Otherwise, they will only be a swipe away.

And now a question that's more psychological than sociological: do you ever try to get into the heads of the people who time and again show their interest in very analogue ways?

I have an infinite appreciation for their dedication, because for myself, I don't see the chance of a phenomenon exciting me so much that I would be ready to dedicate so much time and love to it.

So you've never been a very hardcore fan?

If, at twelve years old, I had to highlight one musicians that I would've wanted to meet more than anyone in the world, that would definitely have been Tomi Meglič. That hasn't changed to this day. The only difference is that we meet up with Tomi and we're friends. I still feel the highest possible level of respect for him. Every time he calls me, I am extremely proud of myself. But I still cannot imagine going to, say, Berlin tomorrow if Siddharta were playing there and I had a free day. I'd go to Maribor or Zagreb, but absolutely not across all of Europe the way the biggest fans do. Not even at twelve. I could sooner imagine that at that age, a football match rather than a concert would be the thing that excited me beyond all reason.

We're probably talking about two groups of celebrities that get worshipped as deities by the masses in Western society: footballers and pop and rock musicians. And this is probably linked to emotions again.

True. The thing that wakes up a person's sense of smell, sight, and all other emotions that overcame them as a child, is what has the best possibility of succeeding.

Now please explain how this is connected to football.

If I go to a concert by Siddharta, Big Foot Mama, Magnifico, I turn into a ten-year-old kid who will explode from happiness. There's no Bojan anymore. He gets lost. It's the same with football. When I watch it, I dream about how I played for Slovan² as a kid and what I wanted more than anything was to score a goal and for everyone in the stands to yell: Yeeeees!

²ND Slovan is a football club from Ljubljana

You don't score goals, but you are in a similar position that Tomi Meglič used to be in.

All the band members come from very loving families that have always provided us with a very good support system and instilled basic values in us that we internalised deeply. That is why everything that's currently happening around us hasn't gone to our heads in a way that would make us think that we're bigger or more important than anyone else. If we started believing that we were "kings" because everyone was clapping for us and singing our songs, that would probably be a very strong feeling, but that simply wouldn't be us. We mostly love to see all the people, because we know how much we mean to them and how much they mean to us. Without them, we wouldn't be able to focus on what's most important to us – our music. On the other hand, I can say with a thousand percent certainty that I would easily and happily do my job if I was performing at venues like Cankarjev dom. So, in front of a calmer audience, without unreal hype.

But what I would like most in the world is to turn into a footballer for ten seconds and score a goal at an important match. You know why? Because that is the biggest adrenaline hit that exists. When we perform on various stages, there's mayhem around us for two hours straight. But in football, when a goal is scored, that happens in a millisecond. You go from nothing into total chaos. Everyone loses their minds. I'd love to experience that. Well, I did – much like everyone who played football in primary school. When I scored a goal for Slovan and a hundred people in the stands clapped for me, I felt like I was on Maracanã. Imagine what it would be like to experience that on the real Maracanã.

It's interesting that you highlighted a loving and stable family background. Many of the biggest pop and rock stars in the world grew up in a diametrally opposite environment. From John Lennon and Janis Joplin to Prince and Rihanna. There are actually so many of them that we can talk about a pattern.

I know, because I love to read their (auto)biographies, and I agree with your assessment that their family circumstances are fundamentally different than ours. That is always my answer to the question when someone wants to know how debauched our tours are. When I tell them that we mostly drink water and tea on the road, they just can't believe it. But it's the truth, because we've realised three things. First, we enjoy what we do immensely, and from the experiences of many musicians, we know that you can almost definitely forget about a long career if you start doing everything that we perceive as the proverbial rock'n'roll lifestyle. A band like that breaks up sooner or later, either because of frayed nerves, or exploding egos, or because of money. Second, we've all had to go to work hungover and we know very well that it's unbearable. I especially can't imagine how we could stay healthy and keep our strength and our voice if we were constantly hungover on the road. In that case, the only short-term solution is drugs, which we fortunately [knocks on wood] don't do. And third: I'm sure that you have a much better time on stage if you're aware that you are on it.

Your international breakthrough doesn't have a precedent among Slovenian musicians. Would you dare to point out where the difference is, why you made it and not for example Siddharta, who had filled Bežigrad stadium and later did not hide their international ambitions?

We have to understand that Siddharta didn't have the chance to perform at a festival like Eurovision. It's hard to understand what it means for 160 million people to watch you. That is a bizzarely huge number. All this happened in the time of social media, and we had set up a pretty good mechanism in that area even before Eurovision, and then also used it, whereas Siddharta established itself as a band in the time of analogue media. I can't even imagine how it would've been possible to break through abroad from Slovenia at that time. Because even we are already – even though some things have opened up for us very nicely and we've been joined by the right people – finding out how much of an investment going international demands. Dreams of megalomanical earnings and a luxurious life brought on by a European tour shatter quickly. Even when you start filling up venues, you stay in a kind of hustle mode. You fight. Unfortunately, the costs in the music business are so high that performing abroad is more or less just for promotion for a long time.

You're probably thinking of logistical costs?

Yes. Some of my colleagues have total misconceptions about our earnings. They think that we're literally swimming in money, while we actually earn what amounts to a normal salary.

In March next year you will have eighteen concerts. You will start in Helsinki and end in Milan. How will you travel?

With a tour bus. We've rented it twice so far: for the UK tour and for the tour around Lithuania, Poland, and Czechia. There are beds on it, so we can sleep while driving from one concert to the next. The tourbus is prohibitively expensive, you pay almost half of your royalties for it, but it's the only way for a musician with such a packed schedule to survive in the long run. Sometimes people ask me why we don't travel with a van instead, but you have to understand that we sometimes have concerts two days in a row and the venues are 800 kilometres apart. If we spent all night in an uncomfortable van, then looked for a hotel in the morning and so on, we might be able to endure it for a week, but definitely not all month.

Do you ever sleep in a hotel?

Only on free days.

Will the March tour be your most exhausting one so far?

It will definitely be one of the more exhausting ones, but I am definitely happy that we will be able to sleep on a tour bus. We haven't been on a month-long tour yet, so it's hard to predict anything, but on the Nordic tour this year we played six concerts in five days, because we had two concerts in one day in Helsinki. We didn't have a tour bus there, we flew instead. That meant that after the concert, we got to the hotel at midnight, then we had to be at the airport at three in the morning, a few hours later we were already at the new location, we napped for two hours on a couch, had a soundcheck – rinse and repeat for five days in a row.

Let's not talk only about the negative sides of tours…

Of course. I love sleeping on the bus! I fall asleep like a baby who's being taken for a walk in a stroller. I can't sleep more than nine or ten hours in my bed at home, on a tour bus I easily get twelve hours. Maybe it's because it's constantly shaking a little. The other guys also sleep very well on the road.

But the most magical thing on tours is when I visit a city for the first time just because we have a gig there. That seems unimaginable to me. To meet new people, wonderful fans, to bond as a band, experience new, funny situations, to bring home a bunch of new inside jokes and incredible gifts that fans have made themselves. [Points towards a hand-embroidered pillow in the part of the studio where they keep the gifts.]

Elite athletes often lament that it's true that they compete all over the world, but they often only see the airport, the hotel, and the sports venue.

It's similar for us. When we travel with a bus, we only see the venue. If we happen to have a free day, we walk around the city, but we definitely don't visit all kinds of tourist attractions as some people might wrongly imagine. When we go to Paris, we definitely won't go to the Louvre, and we will see the Eiffel tower through the bus window if everything goes well.

But you meet a lot of interesting people.

That's true. I find it the most fascinating if we meet fans when we don't expect them at all. In a restaurant, on a plane… When we were flying to Poland, it turned out that one of the flight attendants was a big fan of ours. She told us that she was going to three of our concerts and brought us champagne and a model of a Lot Polish Airlines plane.

I was even more surprised in Helsinki. I went to some kind of dark club that had a techno music party. Suddenly I was approached by three people, two guys and one girl, and they told me that they were our fans and that they couldn't believe that they met me in that club. I also couldn't believe that people recognised me in the middle of Helsinki. What's going on?!

In the summer, you took a step back from Instagram for a while. What brought you to that decision?

Many things. I felt creatively empty. I also, for the first time in my life, experienced the internet – not just Slovenian, but global – being completely oversaturated with me. That started negatively pressuring me and eating me up. I thought about it a lot, and the first time I asked myself whether I'd be less Bojan Cvjetićanin if I didn't have an Instagram profile, I turned it off. Immediately after that, I wrote three songs; I felt as if I had cleaned up some of the mess that had built up recently. I returned to social media some time ago; with much healthier habits than before, I think.

How do you see social media? As a space for playfulness, for promotion, part of the job, part of private life?

I think that at the time when they started killing me, I perceived them too professionally. I had a feeling that Instagram was a platform through which I had to achieve all sorts of things. Lately, I prefer to joke around more.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

#bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #joker out #Spotify

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elen-benfelen · 2 months

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welsh remus guide pt.3

Third Lesson

Right then, lads. It’s alphabet time.

Often, when looking at Welsh place names, it can seem confusing and overwhelming for anyone who is unfamiliar with Welsh. Sometimes, the confusion comes from not realising that the names are in Welsh.

Visually, we use the Latin alphabet and so it’s easy to make the assumption that the Welsh alphabet is exactly the same as the English.

It is not, my dudes.

To begin with, the following letters do not exist:

K, Q, V, X, Z

Secondly, these are the vowels:

A, E, I, O, U, W, Y

(Occasionally H is also a vowel but I couldn’t tell you when or why??? I usually go off of vibes)

Next, are the double letters. They count to us as single letters and each make a unique sound:

CH, DD, FF, NG, LL, PH, RH, TH

NG as in thiNG

PH as in PHil

FF as in Fun

RH as in RHiannon

TH as in THat

Now comes the uh, more complicated sounds.

For those familiar with German words such as Nacht or the name Brecht, the Welsh CH is that same sound.

CH as in naCHt

DD is like a harder TH sound. It is NOT a D sound.

LL sounds like hissing. I genuinely don’t know how else to explain this. It straight up does not exist in majority of languages but there are some out there with the same sound (sometimes shown with a different letter).

To hear it and learn more here’s a better explanation.

This is a really fun video on the different accents but someone mentions the town Llanelli so it’s also a good example of the LL sound.

youtube

And so in full we have:

A. B. C. CH. D. DD. E. F. FF.

G. NG. H. I. J. L. LL. M. N. O.

P. PH. R. RH. S. T. TH. U. W. Y.

There’s no K because the C is always a hard C sound.

There’s no V because a single F is always a hard V sound.

J is a modern addition to help us with new modern words we’ve loaned from English. Such as Joke becoming Jôc.

G is always a hard guttural G sound.

Despite misconceptions, Welsh is actually vowel heavy and we tend to stretch vowels. If a letter has a little roof on it, like “ô” or “ŵ” then it’s an extended/longer sound.

This means, when speaking English, our vowels are more likely to be elongated.

Similar to the “r” in Spanish, the Welsh “r” is rolled and therefore many will still roll their Rs when speaking English.

For a reason I have yet to discover, despite H being perfectly clear and pronounced when speaking in Welsh, when we speak English, a lot of areas have a habit of dropping the H sound.

“Here” becomes “Ere” or “Yere”

I am guilty of this. Why do I do this? I genuinely can’t tell you.

For the reasons above, the following words sound stupidly similar to each other:

Ear

Year

Here

Hear

As with any language, understanding the basic sounds helps you understand the core of the accent.

In terms of character dynamics, I would take note that the “CH” and “LL” sounds along with our supposed “lack of vowels” is usually what the language is mocked for. Usually by English folk but other folks, including non-Welsh speaking Welsh folks are perfectly guilty of this mocking.

Fun fact: I didn’t realise W and Y weren’t vowels in the English language when I was a small child. So I really didn’t get why they thought there wasn’t any vowels in our place names.

Another thing to note is that the Welsh language and accents are very up and down. It’s not usually flat or monotone. A lot of people also describe them as melodic. Sing-songy even.

Colourful alphabet video with BSL

Shorter alphabet video

Note: I am not the collective consciousness of every Welsh person. My experience is not universal - especially when it comes to North Walian things. This is just meant to serve as a general guide. Hope this helps and good luck with your writing!

pt.4

#wHeRe ArE tHe VoWeLs? up ur bloody arse if ur not fuckin’ careful cariad #apologies for the violence <3 i possibly have some pent up rage on the topic of vowels lmao #welsh remus lupin #welsh remus #welsh language #wales #welsh #cymraeg #cymru #language #alphabet #marauders era #the marauders #wolfstar #sirius black #lily evans #james potter #hp marauders #Youtube

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tinyetho · 22 days

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helloo :)

my name is lych (or full tag Lychenon) u probably don't know me like almost at all but I still want to link some of my stuff lmao xP

socials !

ao3 (I literally only write smalletho, u should still check me out)

tiktok

twitter

that's kinda it I don't really have anything else I use regularly.

about me ?!

(again) my name is lych, i go by he/him. im a little american boy and pretty much unlabeled when it comes to sexuality.

my favorite music artists are people like The Crane Wives, Mitski, and stuff like that

I love minecraft, and really any smps that go w it! Im really into hermitcraft, life series, and lifesteal. My favorite YouTubers are Smallishbeans, EthosLab, SpokeIsHere, Parrotx2, InTheLittleWood, ReNdOg..

I'm also extremely into cartoon media like South Park, TDI, Dick Figures, and other stuff.

I like some Roblox games like Daybreak 2 (if u play roblox I recommend it heavily), GASA4, and I used to really like RH

extra

I am a HUGE Boat boys/Smalletho enjoyer. I enjoy any type of media that includes them, and I just a hugeeee fan of them. If someone gets me started yapping about them, you are NOT hearing the end of it. I ALSO really really like treebark but I think there is about 3 other treebark shippers and we are BARREN so.

THATS ABOUT IT!!

i don't really have much more to say about myself, or what im going to post..

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO DM ME!! I'm a very open person and id love to friends on here. ;3

SIDE BLOG??

@tiniestetho <- my side blog for art !1!

#hermitblr #trafficblr #hermitcraft #life series #traffic smp

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deepspacedukat · 4 months

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Misfit Toys - Part 3

Alright! Here's the conclusion! I hope you all enjoyed reading this little fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖 There are a few unintended side things that happen in this chapter, but I hope y'all will enjoy it anyway!! By that I mean whoops I accidentally created yet another OC.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Tokath (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut adjacent, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies romance, Human/Romulan romance, implied interspecies sex, implied Human/Romulan sex, mutual pining, they're idiots who think it's unrequited, it's VERY requited, flirting, some almost kisses, getting lokblocked, literally everyone can tell they're in love except them, they are the last people to find out about each other's feelings.

~*~

I hadn't needed Tokath's crutch in nearly a month, but it had earned a place of honor. Resting lovingly on a bookshelf in my bedroom, it served as a reminder of the progress I'd made...and of the fact that I now had somewhere that I belonged.

After all this time, it still felt strange to know that I had a home this amazing. The reaction to the news that I'd decided to stay instead of boarding the transport and leaving the Carraya system had been so joyful on the part of my new friends that I'd been moved to tears. None of them had been irritated that I'd chosen to remain with them.

Ta'lana even clapped a hand on my shoulder and grinned as she offered me a permanent position helping her concoct her salves. I accepted, of course. How could I not? Her companionship was so easy and natural that I'd have been a fool to refuse. Not to mention I owed her and Tokath my life for healing me after the crash.

Speaking of Tokath, as soon as he gave me permission to stay, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my chest. There was no longer a lingering feeling of guilt and selfishness resonating through me every time I stole a glance at him. Oh sure, I was still on the verge of berating myself for behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush, but I'd realized that since I was now a permanent resident in this settlement, I had every right to live however I chose. If I wanted to bask in the warmth of the Romulan Commander's smiles, then that was exactly what I'd do.

I was afforded that opportunity quite often. More often than not, we managed to sneak in a little time together in the mornings before the day truly got started. Even if it was just enough time for us to share a cup of tea and breakfast, Tokath and I always seemed to gravitate toward each other.

There were still plenty of mornings where we woke up in each other's arms on the sofa in his study, and those were admittedly my favorites. He was nearly always awake before I was, but he never moved to get up first. The lingering caresses left on my skin before the break of dawn made me wish that I was a more courageous person. More than once I came incredibly close to blurting out my feelings for him in those slow, gentle morning hours. It was a wonder that he hadn't yet noticed.

There was definitely a slight shift in our relationship when I begged him to allow me to stay, though I couldn't define what it was. Our interactions were just as they were before but the burden on his shoulders seemed...lighter, somehow, despite the addition of a new member of the community. Maybe he just liked having a friend with a new perspective to discuss...

If only he knew how much that new friend wanted to kiss him when the morning sunlight poured in through the study window and glittered in his eyes. Resting atop his sturdy chest, half-dazed and half-witted from having just woken up, the temptation was almost overwhelming most mornings. Instead, I would simply nuzzle farther into his chest or the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent until I was certain I could trust myself to look into his eyes again.

One of those mornings, the rain cascaded down, splattering against the windows and creating a soothing rhythm against the roof. I was loathe to get up, and Tokath seemed even less inclined to do so, until a knock sounded at the door.

With matching pair of begrudging sounds, the two of us sat up, and Tokath called for whoever it was to come in. Belatedly, I realized how bedraggled we must look. M'Ven took a single step inside, saw our mussed hair and state of dress, and blushed as he delivered his message.

"My apologies for the intrusion, sir, but I thought you might like to know that your daughter's shuttle has just entered sensor range. She should be here within the hour." Almost as soon as he'd finished speaking, M'Ven tossed me a friendly wink and left us to our own devices.

A joyful smile spread across the Commander's lips as he turned to me.

"You and Ba'el would get along so well! Would you like to come with me to greet her?" He looked so hopeful. How could I possibly refuse? Without a single thought, I reached up and brushed a few errant strands of hair behind his ear. When his hand covered mine against the side of his face, I realized how close we still were to each other.

Oh, the urge to kiss him was back stronger than ever!

"I wouldn't want to intrude on your time with her–"

"Hush, e'lev. You could never intrude," he said, "and if you're not uncomfortable with the notion, I'd love for you to be there."

Tokath's hand kept mine firmly in place while I took a deep breath.

"I'd be honored." If I thought his smiles had been beautiful before, I'd clearly never seen him this utterly filled with joy. Tugging me into a crushing hug, the Commander let out a relieved breath. Did he really think I'd refuse?

After having bathed and changed into clean clothes, we arrived at a clearing in the woods that Tokath called the 'landing strip' just in time to see his daughter's shuttle touch down. The rain had stopped just a few minutes before, giving way to a thick, murky fog. Almost as soon as the shuttle's engines cut off, he was striding toward the door of the small craft.

This must've been something of a routine for them, because the young woman practically threw herself into his arms, sending the pair into a fit of giggles. I hung back just a bit to give them space. Despite Tokath's earlier protests, I was determined not to intrude on their reunion.

"You should've told me you were coming! I'd have prepared a welcome party," he said, and at her protests, I turned my attention to Ba'el's ship, trying to give them some semblance of privacy. The vessel seemed to be Klingon in design, so I assumed she'd acquired it or borrowed it while on the homeworld that she'd gone to explore - Tokath told me all about the incident with a Starfleet officer and the minor revolt that led to some of the younger members of the colony striking out on their own. More power to them. It took a lot to leave the only place you'd ever known in search of entirely new places.

"Oh, hi!" Ba'el's cheerful voice sounded, and I turned my head to meet her smile with one of my own. I gave a little wave as the pair walked over.

"Ah, this is our newest resident," Tokath said introducing me. Rather than a more subdued greeting as I'd expected, Ba'el glanced between her father and myself, then wrapped me in a tight hug. I'd expected apprehension or maybe something a bit more confrontational, but, really, that was silly. She was Tokath's daughter, and he was one of the kindest people I'd ever met. It only stood to reason that his daughter would be at least partially similar in temperament.

"This place is so secluded! How in the stars did you end up here?" She asked as she pulled back and grasped my shoulders.

"Well, it's a long story–"

"One that even I have not yet managed to coax from her," Tokath cut in as he wrapped an arm around my waist and smiled playfully down at me.

"–but it's not a terribly interesting one. I boarded the wrong transport at the wrong time, that's all," I finished with a shrug, ducking my head to escape the warmth of his gaze before I combusted completely.

"Oh, the 'wrong time' was it? And here I thought you liked it here, e'lev." He was teasing me, I knew he was, but I still didn't want him to have the wrong impression.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I love living here! This place is the best thing that ever happened to me. I-I just–" Tokath's gentle, rolling laughter engulfed me just as his arms did, cutting off my rambling protests.

"Do you really think I don't know how you feel about that by now?" When I simply buried my face in his tunic and made a noncommittal sound, he gave me a nice, big squeeze. "Come on. Let's all get back to the compound before we freeze in this dreary weather."

Dinner that night was a joyful affair. Stepped up from the usual fare into something more celebratory, the whole colony was ecstatic to welcome back one of their own, even if it was only for a short time. Though she was only planning on staying for a couple of weeks, Ba'el's presence brought a sparkle into the hall. Her lightheartedness and genuine wonder about the things she'd seen in her travels brought smiles to everyone's faces - including a rather pointed attentiveness from Centurion M'Ven that I noticed.

Eventually, the meal drew to a close, but before Tokath could protest, his daughter looped her arm around mine and stole me away into the quiet evening air. Stopping at the same little pond where her father had first told me of the transport, Ba'el tugged me down next to her on the bench to sit with her. We were both silent for a few moments, watching the water ripple in the bond as a slight breeze caressed its surface. When she spoke, her voice was so soft that it almost slipped away amidst the trees' rustling leaves.

"When I was little, my parents used to bring me here every day. I'd run around and play, and they'd sit here together on this bench. On the days when I didn't need others for the silly games I played, they kept their own company. Sometimes they talked, sometimes my father would read her a book, and sometimes, if the atmosphere was right, they'd end up roaring with laughter over some joke they'd shared," she murmured. A nostalgic little smile stretched her lips, and a far away sort of look settled itself firmly onto her face. "When I got older, they trusted me to come here alone, and I took to exploring the gardens. I knew every rock and tree - they were my friends, as silly as that sounds. I miss this place more than any other when I'm off exploring the galaxy."

I listened carefully, and a wave of gratitude washed through me for the glimpse she was giving me into both her past and her father's. It must've taken a lot for her to share something so personal with me.

"The last time I was home, M'Ven saw me come here. He followed me one night...gave me a bouquet of his own hybrid flowers - he tends them religiously, so you couldn't have missed them," she said, and with a conspiratorial lean in, she continued. "He's asked me to be his mate."

I wasn't exactly surprised. The glowing smiles he gave her at dinner and his near constant blushing sort of gave it away.

"Does your father know?"

"Not yet, no. I'm going to tell him in a couple of days, though, I promise. M'Ven was the first born here. I think his mother was in the early stages of pregnancy before the battle and just didn't know it yet," Ba'el explained. "He's not officially a Centurion, of course. He wears the uniform, and he was trained by the officers here, but the Romulan government doesn't know anything about him."

She paused for a moment, allowing the weight of her words wash over me.

"We agreed that this year when I came home, if I still felt the same for him, he'd come with me on my next trip. It'll be a little more risky traveling together, but we'll manage. After that, when we come home next year, we're going to stay and build a life together," she said letting out a giggle that was so infectious that I couldn't help but join her. "So what about you? I assume that you and Papa are going to stop dancing around each other sometime this decade...?"

"I-I don't know what you mean." Stammering certainly didn't help my case, but the laugh that left her throat told me that she wouldn't have believed me even if I'd sounded perfectly confident. "Ba'el, I...I do love your father, but I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable–"

"What are you talking about? I haven't seen him this happy in years! Last year I was so worried about him that I stayed for a month instead of my usual couple of weeks. He practically had to kick me out." She gripped my forearms gently and looked into my eyes. "I'm happy for you. When one of you finally works up the courage to talk about your feelings, I'll be the first person to celebrate. You're good for him, and, from what I can see, he's good for you."

Relief, palpable and potent, rushed through me, and I hugged Ba'el to hide the tears that had gathered in my eyes. We sat by the pond, talking and joking until the unmistakable sound of footsteps met our ears. We both turned in time to see M'Ven rounding one of the larger trees with a bouquet in hand. He caught sight of us and froze - he'd clearly been coming to meet Ba'el, but my presence startled him, the poor lad.

Ba'el beckoned him over, and the bob of his Adam's apple in his throat as he swallowed betrayed the confident air he'd clearly been trying to exude.

"Calm down, she knows. I told her," Ba'el said as I smiled and got to my feet.

"I also know when it's my cue to leave." Giving poor, startled M'Ven a wink, I started to walk away and give them some privacy. Before I got out of earshot, though, I turned back and called his name. "I think it goes without saying that you'd better be good to her."

Resolve straightened his back and lifted his chin.

"I will, lhhei, you have my word." With that promise obtained, I left them to their own devices, and, though I'd intended to go to my room and sleep, my feet carried me to Tokath's study seemingly of their own volition.

The door was already open, revealing the man in question sitting at his desk and staring into a cup of tea as if it held the answers to life itself. I wanted so badly to kiss the little furrow between his eyebrows and the lines on either side of his mouth...

As if my gaze had called out to him, his eyes lifted from the depths of his tea and caught me hovering in the doorway. His features melted seamlessly from from surprised to relieved to elated in barely a flash.

"Ah, so I haven't been abandoned for the evening, then," he teased as I closed the door behind me. Tokath leaned back in his chair, and I noticed for that there was a second cup of tea sitting on the desk.

"As if I could stay away from you, Commander." Walking over to his desk, I leaned against the polished surface and glanced at his bookshelves for the thousandth time. I knew very well which titles sat on the shelves - even the Klingon ones - but I needed somewhere to look other than at his gorgeous face. "Forgive me for being late. Ba'el and I were talking."

"So that's where you were! I turned to speak with L'Kor for barely a moment after dinner, but when I turned back, my two favorite ladies were nowhere to be found," he said placing a hand over his heart and pouting as if he was deeply wounded. "I thought for a moment you'd been stolen away. I noticed that M'Ven disappeared after a while, as well. I couldn't help but wonder..."

As he trailed off, I felt a brief surge of hope. L'Kor's words and Ba'el's floated into my brain. Maybe they were right. Maybe I did have a chance, after all.

"M'Ven is kind, and he is a friend of mine, but I wouldn't give up your company for his." With my reassurance putting his mind at ease, Tokath grasped my hands and smiled up at me.

"Forgive me, e'lev, I shouldn't be this greedy with you."

Freeing one of my hands, I rested it lightly on his chest.

"There's nothing to forgive. You can be as greedy with me as you want, Tokath," I murmured, and just like that I found myself lost in his gaze. There was a softness in his features when he looked at me, a vulnerability that made me want to wrap him in my arms and never let go. It went through my mind that I could tell him. I could kiss him there, right then, while that gentle trance had us so firmly in its grip, but I couldn't seem to make my mouth move.

"The tea...I'm sorry, it's probably cold by now." His voice was so rough when he spoke that he sounded as though there was gravel in his throat. I could hardly blame him, though. When I spoke, I sounded just as destroyed.

"It's okay. How many evenings have we talked so long that we forgot we even had tea to begin with?" He let out a quiet laugh at my question, and we fell into our usual rhythm of conversation. Before we drifted off together, though, I promised myself that before his daughter left with her own lover, I'd tell Tokath how I felt. If shy, reserved, dutiful M'Ven could ask the woman he loved to be with him, I could tell Tokath how much I adored him.

"She matches this little community of misfits well, doesn't she?" The rough voice of his co-leader sounded from just behind Tokath's right shoulder. L'Kor was observing the group of small children on the other side of the courtyard that were listening intently to a story that the Human woman was telling them. "The children like her, their parents trust her...she has even befriended Ta'lana. It's as if she's been here all her life."

"She did say that she felt more at home here than anywhere else," Tokath mused as he watched one of the youngest - a brave Klingon girl of no more than three - climb onto her lap. He couldn't stop himself from smiling at the ease with which she handled life in the colony.

The Klingon leader hummed quietly and they watched as the children begged her to show them a Human game.

"You see it now, do you not, old friend?" L'Kor asked as he and Tokath watched her explain how to play game. She said that it was one that children of her species played called 'hide and seek.' As soon as she turned her back on the giggling group of little ones, they promptly scurried away as she began to count.

"I don't know what you mean," Tokath murmured, but the aged Klingon let out a rough, disbelieving laugh.

"Yes, you do. Whether you wish to admit it or not, you look at that kyamo Human woman, and you feel young again," he rasped as a tiny Romulan boy sped past their feet. "You cannot hide it from me, Tokath. I know you too well. Since she crashed into our lives, you have become more like your old self. You should tell her how you feel."

The Commander shook his head quickly as she turned back toward the courtyard.

"Ready or not, here I come," she called, and a few poorly-suppressed giggles echoed from various not-so-clandestine spots.

"I couldn't. She chose to stay here in this isolated place without a single other member of her species being present. She believed that I alone had the power to banish her. She begged me to stay. I will not jeopardize her newfound happiness by making her feel trapped by an old man's unwelcome attentions," Tokath protested to his old friend.

"'Trapped'? 'Unwanted'? Commander, she seeks out your attention on a daily basis," L'Kor stated as he looked at his friend incredulously. "Have you not noticed how differently she behaves around you than everyone else here? Can you not see the light in her eyes when you give her a reason to smile? My friend, if such a woman looked at me with as much love as that Human lady looks at you, I would have made my interest known long ago."

That made Tokath pause. There had been moments where he believed - where he hoped - that he saw something beyond simple gratitude and friendship in her eyes, but he'd dismissed it, believing that those moments were a product of his own wishful thinking. Even a few nights ago when she still came to him after speaking with Ba'el for so long, there was a charged moment when he felt as thought might have a chance.

He did love her. She was a ray of light in a world that had grown gray and stagnant. He'd sacrificed so much over the years - his home, his career...he'd given everything to ensure that the families of the Klingons living here would not be dishonored. He'd even been forced to surrender his wife to the ravages of time. Did he not deserve to have a moment's pleasure of his own? Did he not have the right to cling to this bright spot and bask in her presence now that he'd found her?

Tokath relished how easily she made him smile...how effortlessly she made him laugh. Her quick wit and warmth had brought so much color to his life. He'd narrowly managed to avoid losing her to the transport, but only just. Had she not come to him and pleaded for a place in the Carraya colony, she would be lightyears from him by now. How long would it be before someone else here - someone younger and more willing to be forthright about their feelings - caught her eye?

He thought he'd revealed too much when he made that offhanded comment about M'Ven, but neither of them had been brave enough to make a move afterward. He cursed his cowardice yet again. He should've kissed her that night.

Taking a deep breath, Tokath nodded his head and mentally acknowledged how fortunate he'd been thus far. He might not be for much longer if he didn't gather his courage. Would his daughter approve now that she'd had a chance to meet her?

A few feet away, she found a Klingon child hiding behind a set of supply crates, and when she looked up Tokath's eyes met hers. His lips stretched into a warm smile reflexively, and she gave him a little wave as she went to look for more of hiding children.

Oh, Elements, he couldn't deny it any longer.

"You've made your point, L'Kor."

"And what are you going to do now that you see your situation more clearly?" Tokath bristled slightly as he turned to look at his friend. "Oh, come now. You cannot tell me that you have not given any thought to the possibilities. Surely, you've at least imagined what you might say if you were to tell her how you feel?"

He had, but most of those daydreams ended in him dejectedly acknowledging that she would likely never be able to return his affections.

Tokath's expression must've said it all, because L'Kor sighed heavily.

"Oh, my friend, do you truly think so little of yourself that you cannot even imagine a happy ending? Take it from me: it was far more difficult for my wife to give me a chance than it will be for that lovely girl to give you one," he said before patting the Commander's shoulder and ambling off.

Perhaps L'Kor was right. Maybe he simply needed to allow himself to consider the possibility that she might react favorably to the fondness, no, love - that was the emotion and he should call it by its name - that he'd developed for her.

A joyful squeal from one of the little ones drew his attention, and he saw his lady being hugged so enthusiastically by the children that she was practically drowning in their affections. She sank to the ground, surrendering good-naturedly to their embraces with a giggle. Tokath couldn't suppress his laughter at the sight of her trying to hug as many of the children in return as her arms could accommodate.

Her eyes found him through the clamor of the group, and his heart thudded alarmingly. Oh, the things she did to him!

One of the children whispered something in her ear, and when she nodded her head, the little girl broke away from the group and ran up to Tokath, looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes as she spoke.

"Mister Tokath, sir? Will you come play with us?" She asked as the rest of the children and his Human watched their interaction.

How could he say no to such a polite request?

Later that evening as he walked to his quarters to get ready for dinner, Tokath thought to himself that the afternoon spent playing with the children along with the woman he loved was one of the most enjoyable days he'd had in quite some time. The joy of simply being with her was enough to make him feel like the luckiest Romulan alive.

"When are you going to marry her, Papa?" Ba'el appeared at his side smiling up at his as she looped her arm with his. Had he truly been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard her approach?

"Marry? What are you talking about?" He asked as innocently as he could, but all that earned him was a scoff from his daughter.

"Oh, please. The entire colony knows how you feel about your newest resident," she said, and his cheeks heated up as she continued. "So when are you going to ask her?"

"Ba'el, I...I don't even know if she'll have me–"

"Are we talking about the same woman? When you joined her and the children today, she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky," his daughter said. "You haven't been this happy since..."

She didn't have to finish her sentence. He knew what she meant. They both know the significance.

Pulling her to a stop in the hallway, Tokath grasped his daughter's shoulders lightly and looked into her eyes.

"Could you handle that? Could you live with the knowledge that you have a stepmother who is neither Klingon nor Romulan?" Ba'el's opinion of her was important to him - it was the only one that mattered outside of his own on this. He didn't want her to feel as though he was actively attempting to replace her mother. Gi'ral had been unique and he would never wish to disrespect her memory.

But he also didn't wish to be alone for the rest of his life. He adored this Human lady, and he...well, he would dearly love to be her mate.

"Father, I want you to live. I've been worried about you for the last few years, but now...seeing you this happy...I'm so relieved that you've found someone who makes you feel like yourself again. How could I ever object to you finding love?"

Overcome with emotion, Tokath pulled his daughter into a tight hug, nearly sobbing in relief.

"I...have some news, too...about M'Ven and I." She sounded nervous, but in truth, she had no reason to be. Pulling back slightly, Tokath looked at his daughter.

"Ba'el, if you believe that I know nothing of your affections for him or his for you, then you have clearly forgotten that I used to be young, too," he said looking into her eyes. "I wish the both of you every happiness, and if he hurts you, you tell me how much he screams when you tear his head off. And I know you're imminently capable, but if you need help, I'm here for you."

His daughter was right. He needed this. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

Tokath's daughter had been on the colony for nearly a week and a half when it happened. I stopped by his quarters to pass along a message from Ta'lana before dinner, but when I reached his doorway, I froze. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror, in his full uniform, tugging it gently in various directions presumably to straighten it. The poses he struck might have looked silly to anyone else, but to me, the imposing figure he made when he puffed up his chest and gave a harsh glare to his reflection made me bite my lip.

Realizing how long I'd been standing there, I knocked on the doorframe and acted as though I'd only just arrived when he turned his head.

"Just the woman I wanted to see," he exclaimed as he turned to face me. "I dug out one of my older uniforms and thought I'd wear it to dinner tonight. What do you think?"

He puffed out his chest once more as I stepped into the room, looking very much like the proud Commanding officer that he was.

"Very handsome...commanding..." I paused when I was right in front of him, itching to touch any part of him that I could. "...Perhaps a little rigid, though."

His smile fell a bit.

"Rigid?"

"Only a little," I answered, and he raised a curious eyebrow.

"How would you fix this...rigidity?" He asked, and I walked a slow circle around him before reaching up to finger the front of the ghastly leather collar at the top of his uniform.

"Does this part come off separately?" Tokath swallowed slightly before letting out a quiet confirmation. "May I?"

The Commander caught both my hands carefully in his and slid them around to the back of his neck where the collar's clasps lay.

"Do what you will with me." His voice had lowered, both in volume and in pitch to something husky...something that made me want to remove more than just this hideous strip of leather. After a moment's pause, I managed to unfasten the clasps and pull the collar away from his throat.

My next movement proved that I wasn't thinking. Once I'd tossed away the unnecessary accessory, I skimmed my fingertips over his neck, savoring the feeling of his pulse thrumming beneath my touch. Tokath's hands grasping my waist made me aware of what I'd done, pulling me out of whatever trance I'd been in and forcing my eyes to meet his.

Anything I'd been preparing to say was obliterated by the hunger in his eyes. Was I imagining it? I could simply have been seeing my own emotions reflected back at me.

Then he took a slow step toward me, and I stopped thinking about anything but how badly I wanted to kiss him. I took a breath and leaned in–

Only to be startled by a call of his name from the hallway. We both took a hasty step back and averted our eyes as Ta'lana appeared in his doorway.

"There you are. I tried to catch up with you, but it turns out you didn't need to deliver your message. I found the extra crates from our last shipment, after all," she said, then she turned her attention to Tokath. "My apologies for the disturbance, Commander. I hope this hasn't been too much of an inconvenience."

Tokath caught my hand and gave me a little wink.

"No, not at all," he said catching my eye. "I always welcome your company, lhhei."

A long, charged pause stretched between us, and my cheeks heated up under his gaze, but finally Ta'lana called my name.

"Come, come. We've taken enough of the Commander's time," she called, and I started toward the doorway.

"See you at dinner," I called over my shoulder, hoping neither of them could hear how unsteady I sounded. His response barely registered as Ta'lana closed the door behind us.

"I'm looking forward to it, e'lev."

The atmosphere in the dining hall that evening was different. It felt as though everyone was waiting for something to happen. They seemed nervous, yet...excited? How odd. When Tokath arrived, he took a seat beside me as usual and caught my hand in his. Before I could ask what he was doing, he'd tucked a flower securely in my hair just above my ear. The delicate petals tickled a bit, but I didn't dare risk dislodging it after he'd placed it there so carefully.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but the words just wouldn't come out. He seemed to understand my dilemma, though, because he brushed the back of his knuckles down the the side of my face and swallowed heavily.

The heat that suffused my cheeks when we were alone in his quarters earlier made a spectacularly rapid return, even as dinner was served.

Conversation was hushed, but weighty that night from all sides. People were happy for M'Ven and Ba'el - news had already made its way through the colony like wildfire, sparking surprised exclamations and boastful assertions that people had seen it coming years ago.

But there was something else, as well. Given how peoples' eyes kept straying up to the head table where Tokath and I sat, I guessed that people were wondering how he was taking the news. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that he'd be emotional about his daughter finally choosing a partner. If that was the case, though, why were so many gazes landing on me? Was it the flower? I supposed that I couldn't blame them. After all, I'd been surprised, too.

The Commander offered me his arm when the meal ended and I took it without hesitation, allowing him to lead me out into the gardens. This particular route was one we'd never taken before, and we only stopped when we reached a footpath leading into the forest.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he guided me down it expertly, pushing small branches aside and helping me over a fallen log.

"A secret place I found years ago. As far as I'm aware, nobody else even knows it exists," he said with a wink. After a few more minutes, we reached a curtain of vines. Thinking we'd reached a dead end, I looked around in confusion, but Tokath walked me right up to it with his arm wrapped comfortably around my waist. I looked up at him, and he winked as he parted the vine stems.

Moonlight sparkled and gleamed as it bounced off the surface of a placid lake. A swarm of glowing insects slightly larger than Earth fireflies swirled and played above the water, reminding me of a flock of birds.

"Oh, Tokath, this is beautiful," I murmured. I was almost afraid of speaking too loudly, lest I disrupt the peace that permeated this little place. The branches of the trees surrounding the lake's edge seemed to almost wrap around the clearing like gentle, protective arms.

"I thought you might like this place. I've been waiting for the right moment to share it with you," he whispered against the shell of my ear as his hands rested on my shoulders. Gently, so carefully, he grasped my chin and turned my head toward the left shore. A few feet from the water's edge was a blanket with plush pillows, fluffy towels, and a lantern resting atop it.

That was it. Afraid or not, I was going to kiss Tokath tonight, no matter what. I turned in his grasp only to find the lantern's warm, yellowish glow caressing the adoring smile that stretched his lips.

"Thank you for trusting me with this," I said resting my hands on his chest. It was now or never. Lifting my hand to cup his cheek like I had in his room, I looked into his eyes. "You've been uncharacteristically quiet tonight. Is everything alright?"

That damned smile got wider and he let out a quiet laugh.

"Oh, yes, lhhei. Forgive me," he said drawing me into a hug. "I'm afraid I've been lost in thought."

"Oh? And what has occupied your mind so thoroughly?" I punctuated the question with a quick kiss above his fluttering pulse. The Commander's breath caught in his throat, and I realized that maybe I hadn't imagined the hunger I'd seen in him earlier after all.

His grip on me tightened and he hummed at the question.

"You have, dear lady," he muttered, his voice low and rough. That tone had caused me so much frustration since the first time I heard it. I must've let out a gasp or some other surprised sound, because he nodded his head against my scalp. "Yes, you have been a very prominent element of my thoughts since the day you arrived here, but, lately, I find myself contemplating something that...truthfully, I have no right to even consider."

Feeling his proximity even more than usual, I looked up at him curiously. He didn't relinquish his grip on me one iota, but that suited me just fine. I never wanted to stop touching him.

"Maybe talking about it would help ease your mind? Usually confiding in someone close to me helps when there's something bothering me," I suggested, hoping that he didn't notice how shaky my voice had become.

"I will, but only if you don't mind being the one who listens to me ramble. You see, you're the only one who can help me with this particular problem, but I promise I won't ask you if you're not willing." His voice was low and heavy as he spoke, carrying the same weight I'd noticed more and more lately.

"I'll do anything I can to help, Tokath. You know that," I said offering him a reassuring smile.

"You see, I've been asking myself several very specific questions...ones to which I do not have the answers. If the answers are too personal or if you do not wish to engage in that conversation, you need only tell me, and I will drop the topic. Everything can return to the way it was before. I have no desire to make you feel trapped or to change how you see me."

After his little speech, I felt certain that I knew where this might be going, and anticipation flooded through me. Butterflies beat their wings unceasingly in my abdomen.

"Questions could never change the way I look at you." He shook his head at my assertion.

"These might," he breathed as he averted his gaze. "I haven't spent much time around Humans, as you may have guessed, so I...don't exactly know how someone in your culture might approach something of this nature."

I nodded my head in encouragement as his thumbs began to rub slow circles where they rested on my waist.

"I...You see, I wish to...to..." He trailed off and took a deep breath. "When...Well, with Klingons, the men write poetry, the women throw things at each other. It's rather straightforward. Romulans are more varied in their approaches, and...I suppose what I want to ask is is this: How do I...? I mean, what would you expect of...of a...?"

Tokath let out a frustrated huff and shut his eyes. A blush so vibrant that I could see it in the lantern light darkened his cheeks and spread all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Oh, fvadt, I'll never say it at this rate. What I'm trying to tell you is that you are beautiful and kind and the part of myself I never thought I'd find," he said sounding much more resolute. "I doubt this is the way a Human would go about it - much less subtlety to it even though you deserve subtlety and romance - but I need you to know that I love you. That I...would like to be your mate. Hell, I don't even know if Humans call their bound partners 'mates' as we do, but that's neither here nor there. I'd, of course, be happy to call us anything that you wish if–"

A surge of courage tore through me, and I cut off the rest of what he was going to say with a kiss. My lips met Tokath's, and he tensed up for a moment before relaxing into it and kissing me back. One of his hands came up and cupped the back of my head, holding me as close to him as was physically possible.

"I love you, too," I blurted as soon as we separated for air. He looked as dazed as I felt, but he still managed to lift me into his arms and carry me to the blanket as his mouth met mine again.

We didn't make it back to the compound until the next morning. With our hands clasped and rather obvious marks marring the skin of our necks, it was obvious to anyone who looked our way that we were both finally whole.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #Tokath x Reader #Commander Tokath of Carraya IV #Human x Romulan romance

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volturi-stuff · 3 months

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Code Red

Rhea Ripley x soft!reader

Description: Rhea gets a call from her anxious girlfriend and immediately goes to her aid.

Warning: anxiety and implied bad home situation

A/N: DONT MIND ME I needed to write a comfort fic. I’m very aware I haven’t been active in awhile, but I needed to.

Your hands were shaking, the weight on your chest wasn’t getting any better. Your eyes scanned your room frantically looking for any bag that you possibly could find. As quickly as you could, you shoved every thing you might need into the bag. You took a deep breath as your hands were still shaking.

You looked down at the dark blue bag and made sure everything you needed was in there. Once you realized everything was in there, you quickly grabbed your phone and went to that special contact number you had saved in your favorites. It read, ‘Rhea<3’ and you’ve never clicked something so fast. You heard the phone ring only twice before she picked up. “Hello love?” Her thick Australian accent sounded like music to your ears. You could tell by the tone of her voice she was smiling and that immediately made you feel guilty for calling her. “Rh-Rhea I need you to come get me…pl-please…” you stuttered out your words, because it felt like you didn’t have enough air to even get a sentence out. She immediately responded with, “I’m on my way sweetheart, be outside.” She said into the phone with a stern tone. You heard a few curses she mumbled under her breath followed by a grunt of anger. You knew it wasn’t towards you. It never was. “Are you safe?” She asked in a shaky breath. You just closed your eyes and shook your head, not that she could see. “No… I’m so sorry. Im sorry!” you whispered into the phone as more tears rolled down your cheeks. “Hey, don’t you ever apologize to me like that you hear me? None of this is your fault, none of it. Im not playing around it’s my job to protect you. I’m five minutes away, come outside now baby.” She said, and you hung up the phone. You threw your bag over your shoulder and immediately ran outside.

The second she pulled up, you hurried up and got in her car. Tears were streaming down your face and she pulled you tightly into her arms. You felt her muscles contract around you as you nuzzled your face into her neck as you let out a quiet sob slip past your lips. She was wearing a black hoodie with her shorts, her hair was still wet from her shower, and the tattoos on her legs were showing. She smelled so good. The scent of the masculine body wash she uses and the undertones of leather and lavender were present, and it took your mind off everything that happened. Her hand immediately found its way into your hair as she softly strokes it. “It’s okay…I’m here..I’m here baby… you’ll stay at my house as long as you need, me and you. You’ll be safe.” she whispers softly to you, rubbing her long black nails across your back in a soothing manner.

Rhea held your hand tightly in hers as she began to drive, and you closed your eyes finally finding some sense of peace. Rhea didn’t need to hear what happened just yet, she just needed you calm. She would go through great lengths to make sure you were safe. She didn’t play around when it came to you. You two had opposite personalities so she was used to looking after you and being your protector. She didn’t mind in the slightest, she thought it was so cute how you were so nice to people, but she hated the fact that people took advantage of it.

You knew that if Rhea was there, you were safe. She was your safe place always.

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley headcanon #fyp

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beyondthetemples-ooc · 2 years

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...Is it true what they say?

Do you really start shifting from Action and Drama towards Domesticity and Gentleness as you age? As a writer? As an aficionado?

Maybe it’s just because Nona the Ninth was so heart-achingly sweet in its domesticity. Maybe, now that I’ve read The Story, I’m listening the second time around for Tone and Clues... and also Character Relationships. The latter of which is always important to me in stories both my own and not, but lately, I’m thinking mundane.

But even before reading this book, even before the leaks, I caught myself craving Quiet Moments with my characters.

Writing snippets where Dove was talking to Leyla, or telepathically reading with Srentha. Stories about a lost heritage, or quiet gentle moments that don’t have a place in any plot I’ve come up with yet.

Really truly mundane things that would be right at home in a slice-of-life anime.

I despise slice-of-life anime.

But when it’s my own characters? When it’s Leyla looking up at her mother in confusion, or Srentha teaching his child their language? It feels Important now. Like I should find a place to put these little, plotless, mundane, gentle, quiet scenes anyways.

Except, I... have never had to do that before.

How do you slot such quiet dramas amidst all the Big Ones?

Should I just post them as oneshots, the way I did with The Glitter Prompt?

#i had to stop for a full 15 seconds after I wrote that first line to get a within Temptation song out of my head so I could WRITE THE POST #rhs personal posts #rhs personal writing

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thewales · 11 months

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The Telegraph

Princess of Wales makes surprise appearance at Chelsea Flower Show

The Princess of Wales, had made a surprise appearance at the flower show, where she was joined by a group of pupils from ten London primary schools at its inaugural Children’s Picnic.

The picnic, which is set to become an annual event, was inspired by a conversation the Princess had with the RHS during her last visit in 2019, when she unveiled her Back to Nature Garden and told organisers she felt it would be nice to involve more children.

The Princess, sat down on a picnic blanket with children from St Augustine’s Primary School in Hammersmith, asking them if they were keen gardeners and whether they had the chance to plant things at school.

The children discussed vegetables and herbs and the Princess told them: “There’s a plant that smells like chocolate. I remember my granny showing me that when I was little. It has very dark leaves and you rub it and it smells like chocolate.”

Told the pupils were growing sunflowers at school, she said: “They get so big, don’t they?

“Louis is growing broad beans at school. You put them in a cup and you can see the roots growing. They get big quickly like sunflowers.”

She then joined another group to discuss flowers and plants, admitting that: “Lots of the names are in Latin and I can never remember them.”

She asked the children if they were enjoying the different way of learning and urged them to write to her after the visit so she knows how they can make it better for them next time.

After the picnic, the Princess took small groups of children into three of the show gardens.

They enjoyed the outdoor kitchen at The Savills Garden, a blend of ornamental and edible planting designed by RHS gold medal winner Mark Gregory.

By chance, their visit coincided with that of a group of Chelsea Pensioners who had been invited to enjoy a “plot-to-plate” lunch prepared with ingredients from the potager and walled garden.

“What’s on the menu?” the Princess asked, as the pensioners tucked into chargrilled peas with herbs.

Harry Puttick, who served with the Royal Welsh Fusiliers for 30 years, replied gallantly, “The peas are forgettable, you are not”.

With the cook nearby, he joked afterwards: “I’d better say the peas were wonderful, but it was fantastic to meet the future Queen.”

Gelila, nine, from St Mary’s Church of England primary school, was among those who met the royal visitor.

“When I saw her on TV, I thought she’d be a really posh person but she’s actually really nice,” she said.

Full article for free

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pluckyredhead · 1 year

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Roy has always been a science guy

Well, okay. Not always. But yes, before the New 52.

I think we can all agree that New 52/RHATO Roy bears little to no resemblance to pre-52 Roy. Lobdell basically just took a stock 90s hacker character (Lobdell can only write stock 90s characters) and called him “Arsenal.” Which, sigh.

HOWEVER. This idea of “science genius Roy” is really entrenched in fandom now. Plus the way my brain works is I tend to try and figure out a way to synthesize contradictory elements of canon and make them work, rather than just going “no, that’s stupid” and ignoring it. Especially since this was the only version of Roy we had for like seven years.

And the thing is, 2000s canon? Makes a pretty good argument for “tech guy Roy.”

See, after I read all of RHATO and RH/A in 2020, I went back and reread the 2001 Green Arrow series, and I noticed Roy is consistently, unquestionably the techiest Arrow. Now, admittedly that’s a bit of a tallest hobbit situation, since Ollie and Connor are staunch Luddites and Mia has the scientific know-how of an ordinary teenage girl in the early to mid-2000s. (I bet she’s great at texting on a flip phone.)

But there’s this repeated and very cute thing where whenever a member of the Arrowfam busts out new tech, they’re like “Roy gave me this. 🥰 ” Which I love, because it makes Roy feel very present and part of the family even though he lives on the opposite side of the country at this point in canon.

But it also makes Roy come across as by far the most technologically savvy member of the family.

Roy invented a stun grenade arrow for Ollie!

He provides them with weird motorcycles!

Roy begging Ollie to evolve out of the 14th century is such a good mental image.

But wait, there’s more!

A GREEK FIRE ARROW. Roy out here reinventing lost 7th century technology and putting it on arrows.

A tiny arrow to put...in your pants? Okay.

Roy is so well known for his love of tech that Dr. Light knows about it, apparently! (Yes, Connor wielding an enormous gun while Dr. Light is racist towards him fucking sucks. Fun fact: this issue is why I rage quit reading GA on a monthly basis in 2006 and didn’t pick it back up again until Rebirth. This page wasn’t the only reason but it sure didn’t help.)

When Roy does show up on the page, he continues to be tech-savvy:

I love that he just had those tiny clippers on him.

The “Roy and Connor bond” issue is a delight on many levels but Roy casually turning his Ferrari into a thing we still can’t do nearly 20 years later is one of my favorite aspects. As is Connor affectionately teasing him.

This scientific prowess carries over into Outsiders, which isn’t a surprise because Judd Winick was writing both books at the time and he loves a techy Roy:

Roy worked with S.T.A.R. Labs, the best scientists in the DCU, to reprogram a robot from the distant future. Now, obviously that wasn’t successful because she was a Brainiac, but they were able to essentially create an AI with a complete personality existing alongside the Brainiac programming, which is pretty damn impressive. (He was also able to reactivate her in Graduation Day, also by Judd Winick.)

And he created a headquarters that responds to him like this without any visual commands or pressing any kind of buttons??? What???

Plus, he canonically specifically has a kink for fucking in that souped-up airship he mentioned up above. Oh, Roy.

Also, on a much simpler level, you can make a strong case that he’s more inclined to trick arrows than Ollie (and Connor actively thinks they’re ridiculous). He likes gadgets!

Now again, this is not me arguing that New 52 Roy was well-written or that RHATO was a good book. I feel like that version of Roy is, like I said, a 90s hacker who sometimes picks up a bow, and Roy should always be archery first, tech second.

But my inclination is always to try to reconcile canon as much as I can, and incorporate as much as possible into my versions of the characters, so when I write Roy, I tend to nod to the New 52 science aspect by going back to this era. I can’t really get on board with the boy genius stuff or the Roybots, but I’ll often have him messing around with new trick arrows in his downtime, because I like the idea that he’s a tinkerer who loves toys. He’s also been an all-around weapons expert since the early 90s (rather than just arrows), so it makes sense to me that he’d want that range (pun intended) to be as wide as possible.

In conclusion, Lobdell is a hack, but Roy is still a STEM guy, and he definitely has to fix Ollie’s phone every time he goes back to Star City.

#roy harper #arsenal #arrowfam week 2022 #meta

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boyfridged · 2 months

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i already said that for now rh: the hill #1 gets my approval, but i still have concerns, so to elaborate: some of my worries originate from this interview. martinbrough says there, among others:

jason's always been a hothead - he's a vigilante, a killer, this really impulsive, angry type (...)

which is a rather alarming exaggeration... jay is lots of things, but "hothead" is not really something that is very prevalent in his characterisation, even as red hood. thankfully, from that follows:

and this is a way to sort of slow him down so he becomes more of a guiding force, the way Bruce Wayne and Batman tried to be a guiding force to him. It's kind of flipping the script on Red Hood and so we get to see Jason interact with people on more of a friend level, just doing normal things that we don't normally see him do and I thought that was very fun.

and we do see the second bit in rh: the hill #1, so i'm glad about it!

but despite some great writing in terms of setting up that community, i still have some worries, namely:

while i love the hill, i am still not entirely convinced by the focus on it specifically, with little regard to the crime alley by itself. especially that jason comes in into the scene with some pretense and inclination to lecture others about vigilantism; which is something i love on its own (jay being the voice of reason is a refreshing throw back to his robin days...) but it is a bit questionable given he does it in a predominantly black district...?

and another thing:

it's too early to speak on this, but one curse that batman comics never escape is its love for the status quo and the fact that even when they seek subversion, they end up arriving at the same conclusions... and in the same manner, we again get the talk about the "chaos" endangering civilians. in martinbrough's exact words:

that was a Purge-type situation where there was chaos spreading through Gotham, and the citizens of The Hill were like 'OK, we have to band together and protect ourselves from this.

which, okay. we're talking about the joker war here. but the comment within the issue already, one of the hill inhabitants talking about how they had to protect their "small business"? this better plays into the criticism of gentrification somehow later on.

once again, we also get the comment about how "the crime is down." i'm complaining i know, but it would be nice to have leslie's narrative back in gotham, together with the sentiment stemming from her personal ethics and anarchist framework... what do crime statistics truly say about areas such as the east end given the overpolicing of them...? why are we back to the standard batman & early red hood rhetorics, with the main goal being a new take on the arbitrary numbers...

however, as i said, it's perhaps too early to judge; the ending of the first issue does promise another take on who the "agents of chaos" are. let's just hope it's not an empty one and that it comes with some more coherent conclusion on the endless blame shifting in that matter.

#also feel free to dm me for a link...

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dendrograna · 2 years

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Respite Hereafter Pt. IV

im gonna be 100% w yall i would not have continued this if it weren't for @nicebonescomrade's drabble they wrote based off RH

everyone say thank you bones for giving me a turn with the Brain Writing Juice

tw:// past violence/trauma mention

The world you’d descended into was… not the Teyvat you’d known and loved.

As it had been described to you, this Teyvat experienced an event they called the Creator’s “Descending” several thousand years ago, an event even Zhongli failed to remember. Somehow, another "powerful deity" had managed to invade Teyvat, bending its very fabric to their will. Teyvat's history was entirely rewritten, now including this "creator" sitting on their throne for eons and eons. There was no telling how long they'd actually been there, but they might as well have descended several millennia ago as they made their followers believe.

And after a few thousand years of being socialized to act, think, and feel the way the impostor wanted… Getting out of it wasn’t exactly easy for them. All of Teyvat had been frog-boiled so hard they truly, honestly believed what that impostor said, and it nearly made them kill their true creator.

You tried your hardest to hold your tongue when you were in their presence, carefully choosing your words so as to not make them fear you more than they already did. Oftentimes you would travel throughout the nations, and every time you entered a new city, someone was there with an “offering” for you. Liyue was often the worst about this, Ningguang struggling to give up the old habit she had with your impostor, which naturally spread to her people.

Whether you’d simply gone to Mondstadt for a few days or you’d been traveling for months, there were gifts waiting for you when you returned to Liyue. You’d already ordered all of their temples be demolished, so instead these people would meet you at the edge of the city to give them to you personally.

It’s a very sweet gesture, and you can’t be mad at them when they’re only trying to make you happy! Yet… with each beautiful jade pendant or sweet-smelling bottle of perfume or fine silk clothing set they pressed into your hands… the horrible feelings of guilt and embarrassment only grew in your stomach. These people were so happy to see you, even if you’d just been gone a few days, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for dreading walking into Liyue Harbor.

You often berated yourself for how overwhelmed you were, especially in moments like this. If anyone else were put in your position, plucked out of their average life and placed on this "holy" pedestal, surely they would get exhausted too! But not you, never you. You're their god, you're not a person like them. You often wonder if they even see you as a person, or just an idolized statue with the capacity to kill. That kind of exhaustion is strictly a human concept, so of course they can't imagine their god dragging themself back home after being showered with praise, laying in silence for several hours until they can fall asleep. The situation that'd been dumped in your lap was more than you could handle, especially completely alone like this.

That's how you ended up here, spending a night at Wangshu Inn with your bodyguards before heading south toward the Harbor. You'd intentionally asked to take a detour to Qingce Village, stalling your return until it was "too late" to get there before nightfall. Your guards didn't question you or try to convince you otherwise, of course, so you checked in a few rooms for the night.

It must've been at least two or three in the morning when you snuck out to the balcony. Very rarely did you have any time to yourself like this, so you basked in the silence nighttime brought with it.

You'd become very well acquainted with everyone you recognized, The Crux fleet in particular as they often helped you reach Inazuma. Beidou was one of very few people willing to joke around with you, offering you a drink not as some holy offering, but as a friend might to another. You'd also gotten to know Heizou fairly well, who read you like a damn book. Almost everyone approached you, eager to earn your favor. All except one.

"Xiao?" you whispered, hoping not to wake anyone.

The man appeared in a puff of smoke on the balcony, kneeling with his face tilted toward the floor and his spear tight in his hand. He didn't say a word.

You took a step forward and knelt to look at him, placing one hand on his face and guiding him upward. “You don’t have to kneel like that anymore, y’know,” you mumbled, helping him to his feet. He only nodded.

“You’re the only one I haven’t met yet,” you said, leaning against the railing. “Since I’m here, I thought I’d drop by and say hello. I hope I’m not disturbing you…” Xiao shook his head.

“Hey, why aren’t you saying anything?” you asked. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m not like them, you don’t have to do that.”

“…If that’s what you want, Your Grace,” he finally said, hand still gripping his spear tight. “What do you need from me?”

“Oh, I just wanted to finally meet you,” you said. “I’ve met everyone else so far except for you. If I'm interrupting your work, you don't have to stay."

"You came all the way out here just to... talk to me?" he asked, finally putting his spear away. "Why are you interested in me when there's a million other people throwing themselves at you, begging for your attention?" There was a bitter twinge to his voice, mostly undetectable if you hadn't noticed the way his eyebrow twitched downward as he spoke.

"Well, I thought it'd be nice to get to know you," you mumbled. "I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but you've always been one."

Xiao sighed and leaned an arm against the balcony's railing. "You really aren't like them, huh..." he muttered to himself.

"What? Did they not like you or something?" you asked.

Xiao closed his eyes as he thought of his next words. "I am a Yaksha. I was created to kill, and it's all I'm good at. I'm a breathing weapon, and they treated me as such," he said. "They didn't like nor dislike me, not that it matters. I did what they told me to and that's where that ended."

"That's why you wouldn't say anything to me earlier, isn't it?" you asked. "You expected me to give you an order for you to follow and that be the end of it." He nodded.

Xiao sighed and crossed his arms. He'd heard the chatter about an "impostor," he'd seen the celebrations down in the Harbor, he'd somewhat overheard what was going on. The person they believed was the creator was actually another being entirely, similar to the creator, but definitely not the creator. Their blood gushed the same dull red as everyone else's, and the "impostor" they'd ordered Mondstadt's Knights to execute bled rivers of gold when hurt. The impostor was actually in Liyue at the time, and Zhongli dealt with them himself. Other than that, he had no idea what you were really like.

"Sometimes people still try to bow when I go somewhere," you said. "It just... It really upsets me how horribly you were treated. Of course I understand them being a little cautious of me, but... I figured word would've gotten around by now that I'm not like that..."

"What could possibly motivate someone to be so cruel?" you ask to yourself. "Every person I've talked to has had some kind of traumatic experience with them or their cult, and it makes me feel sick."

Xiao shrugged. "I don't think anyone knows but them."

You chuckled a bitter laugh. "Yeah, but the dead can't exactly spill their secrets."

Xiao stared at you for a moment, a concerned look on his face. "Your Grace... Did Mondstadt ever tell you what happened with them?" he asked, gloved hands gripping the rail. You shook your head.

He took a deep breath and looked away from you, out at the fields surrounding Wangshu Inn.

"They're not dead, Your Grace... They're being kept alive."

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