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marlynnofmany · 15 days

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Secondhand Solutions

Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.

I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.

“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.

“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”

Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”

“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.

“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”

I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.

Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.

The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.

It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.

They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.

And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”

He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”

“Do you take the bet?”

“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”

“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”

“With what?”

I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.

After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.

This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.

They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.

I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”

“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #this one's relatively short so I'm going without the read-more #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #googly eyes #I do enjoy some good be-googling #just made up that word; like bedazzled #it may not catch on #but that's okay #I'm still having fun

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sparrowrye · 2 months

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Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 13

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous Part

Part 12: didn't ask for it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How am I to blame for this?" Alastor demanded.

"You don't exactly have a relationship with the girl," Rosie responded. The two of them still stood in the library. "She's your soulmate. No one expected you to even have one."

"She's infuriating, that's what she is. And you know just as well how I feel about soulmates." He turned away.

Rosie wasn't having it. She put her hands on her hips with a sharp, "You could at least be nice to the poor thing. She looked terrified the first time you brought her to me. A lot has happened to that girl and now she's trying to learn magic while also dealing with your grumpy ass. No wonder it didn't work tonight."

"It didn't work because she is not mentally strong enough to handle it."

"I don't think you're giving her enough credit, my friend. She's come a long way. Not many people can unravel a curse like she is."

"She is slowing down my progress and is a risk to everything I've built."

"Well if ya put more effort into having a relationship with this girl, that might no longer be the case."

"I will do no such thing, Rosie," his voice grew heavy with static, "If it wasn't for this soulmate magic I'd have killed her already."

"Alastor," Rosie's voice softened, "she needs your guidance. If you train her to your level, you'd never have to worry about her again. She has a lot more magic stored away, I can feel it. And I know you can too." She straightened his bow tie.

"Last thing I need is for an out of control soulmate who I can't keep under wraps."

"Oh goodness Alastor," she put a hand to her head, "You're a real jerk sometimes, ya know that?"

"I'm aware." His voice turned chipper.

"Tell you what? We'll stop with the mind magic for a couple weeks to give you, and especially her, a break. But, in return, I want you to read a book on soulmate magic. And have tea with me to talk about it."

"Are you attempting to give me homework?" he asked.

"Of course not," she picked up her cloth bag, "I'm giving it to you."

****

I didn't leave my room for days.

I either slept, read, paced, or took a bath. I didn't bother going downstairs to eat, resulting in Niffty bringing plates of food up to me that I hardly touched. She was the only one who I permitted in my room. Any time Husker tried to walk in I immediately chased him out. I wanted nothing to do with anyone.

Not even a day after the incident I started having nightmares about it. No matter if I was going to sleep for the night or taking a short nap, the memory instantly came back. It left me drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe. So I stopped sleeping.

That created a whole different problem.

I filled my time with more reading or pacing. I held my Human appearance until I couldn't, burying the Demon side of me as far down as I could. I blocked all my senses off and kept everything out of my head. I wanted to be a Human with Slight magic again. I wanted none of this ridiculous magic nonsense. I wanted to go back to being a human trying to find her way in the hard world.

A knock came at the door. I permitted Niffty to come in but when I looked it wasn't her. I bristled at the sight of Husker.

"I'm just bringing you dinner," he said, walking in with a tray, "Niffty is at war with the bugs in the basement."

I backed myself into the corner of the room to keep distance between us. My Demon side had come out and my shadow grew in size around me.

"I also wanted to check on you. Make sure you were oka-"

"I'm fine now get out!" I snapped. He backed away to the door but didn't leave. "I said get out!"

"I'm worried," he admitted, "I'm worried that you're going to spiral and get lost in your head in this state."

"And who's fucking fault is that?" I yelled. "I couldn't even remember the incident until you all gave me the damn drug."

"I didn't know they were going to do that." He put his hands up in surrender.

"Please, you're just as bad as Alastor. Anything that happens you just go with it. You're nothing but a bystander."

His wings and ears dropped. I realized what I said a moment too late, covering my mouth with my clawed hand. It wasn't up to Husker how he played his part. Alastor had him on a leash with their deal.

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever," he said quietly, looking down at his paws, "I get it. I'm uh...I'll leave you alone. But...just be careful not to fall into the shadows. We might not get you back this time." He opened the door.

"Then leave me there." He didn't move. "I'm tired of this all. I'm tired of the training and training and training. I'm tired of being pushed to do anything and everything. I'm tired of being told to keep climbing the ladder I didn't even want to climb."

I fell quiet for a moment. Husker waited and watched.

"I was perfectly fine on my own, you know. I had survived ring fights for twenty-one years, escaped my old master, and hid away for five more years. Now all of a sudden I'm incapable of keeping myself safe?

"If anything, I'm safer than I ever was before. I'm a Demon. I've got Full magic and natural defenses now. Before, I had nothing more than myself and a hint of magic."

"I know Al has his own reasons for keeping you here and making you learn magic," he said, "but Rosie and I are doing it to help you. To give you a better chance for when you've reached Al's level and can go on your own."

"I'm not a child!" I took a daring step towards the door, wings extended. "And did you not hear what I just said? I survived for twenty-six years in a fighting ring with nothing more than Slight magic. I can now handle myself better than I ever thought possible. I'm done with this 'magic training'. I never asked for it. I never asked for any of this."

"But rather than having a better chance at surviving, you could train into someone impossible to kill. Word is bound to get out that you're Al's soulmate."

"Forget it. You're not listening." I turned my back to him. He tried to say more but nothing came out quite right. So, with ears down, he closed the door behind him.

Later that night, when the moon was out and as bright as the sun, I left. I quickly dressed and opened the window enough for me to slip out. I opened my wings and glided quietly down the cliff face. I flew as far as I could before my wings grew tired. I walked the rest of the way to the pier, forcing myself not to look over my shoulder. Fear had disappeared along with all my other senses.

Eventually, I made it to the pier. I stood at the poles and looked down the beach. Everything was quiet save for the crashing of the waves. I could do this. I could go back into hiding and keep myself safer than ever before.

"She's getting away!" someone yelled.

I spun in circles around the post but saw no red. Neither Alastor nor Husker were near. I jumped when feet clambered overhead. A girl was sprinting down the pier with three men chasing after her. I hurried up the stairs and followed after them.

The girl had a limp and I could tell the men were getting closer by the second. She clambered on the fence at the edge of the pier and jumped! The wind pulled her back right into one of the men's arms. He held her tight as one of them secured a magic strap to her head. She was from a fighting ring.

"Let her go." I didn't realize I had spoken until all three men turned to look at me. Not even five minutes out and I was already dealing with the ring fights again.

"The hell did you just say?" one of them asked.

"I said let her go." I took a few steps closer.

"And what if we don't? You want to be her replacement?"

"No. I want to be her savior." I casted a huge gust of wind against the one man, sending him straight into the fence and sprawling into the ocean. One man held onto the girl while the bigger man took a stance against me.

He casted a blaze at my face but I shoved it into the ocean. He did this several times as I took one step after the other towards him. I tried using wind to move him but that did very little.

I carried a wave over the fence and took his feet out from under him. He tried casting fire again but the water had dampened it. I used the remaining water and slid him across the deck. He slammed into the fence and fell into the ocean with his partner.

"Stay back!" The last man held a knife to the girl's throat. He had backed all the way into the corner. "Or I'll slice her throat."

I noticed the moon casting shadows on the deck. I looked back up at the man so he didn't suspect anything when the shadows started moving. They climbed up his leg and encased his head in darkness. I casted myself over to them and pulled his hand away from her neck.

I grabbed his throat and threw him up and over the fence, plunging down to the dark waters below. The shadows returned to their original spots. I then turned to the girl who was trying to unclip the headband.

"Let me help. Where did you come from?"

"A ring fight." The girl seemed to be in her teens. She had short hair clipped well above her shoulders.

"Well, you're not going back there again." I tossed the headband into the water.

"But I have to," she said.

"Why?"

"Because my friend is there. We made a promise to get help when the other one got out." She rubbed her hands over her arms in an effort to get warm. I put my arm around her as we walked back towards the town.

Many times I had seen the police try to take down a ring fight. There was always a guard force that kept them at bay while guests ran and masters grabbed their fighters. The magic-dampening drug was the easiest and quickest way to move us without a fight. The police never succeeded in saving us.

But that was because they used brute force. They didn't know how it worked on the inside. I did.

"Can you show me where it is?" I asked her, an idea suddenly springing to life in my head.

"I have to go to the police first—"

"I know. But if the police try to take it down now, they'll all scatter. I can get your friend out and all the others tonight."

"But...the police can send officers—"

"You're right." I stood in front of her with my hands on her shoulders. "You're right, they have the manpower. But sometimes that's not what is needed. They don't know how it works in there."

"Do you?"

I pushed my lips together. "Yes."

"You're...a master?" She stepped away from me.

"What? No. No! I'm...I was a ring fighter."

"Oh. Really? What's your name?"

"Python."

Her eyes widened. "Who was your master?" she asked slowly.

"Master Striker."

Her mouth dropped open. "You...you're...what are...you escaped?"

"A couple years ago, actually." I wasn't expecting her to know me. How many fighters knew my name? How many of them feared my name? Did some of my opponents dread hearing my name against theirs? I shook the horrible thought from my mind. "So now you know why I think it's best not to involve the police yet."

"But what are you going to do? You can't do anything against Full masters."

"I'm not. Everyone leaves before dawn. No one is there except for the guards and the fighters. Tell you what, if I don't succeed tonight, you can go to the police. Does that sound fair?"

She thought for a moment. "Okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note:

It hurt so bad to write the scene where she yelled at Husker. But I promise I'll make up for it when I publish the next chapter. I'm so excited for it!

#alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #soulmate au #soulmates #hazbin hotel husk #reqs open

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scarletwinterxx · 1 year

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i don't know how to make eggs - mark lee scenario

I just had to😂 GO STREAM GOLDEN HOUR! it's sooooo good😭😭anyways, so this one is a prolouge of the 'mark lee dad au' you can read it here:

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Mark, babe what are you doing?"

You just woke up again after having rough morning, the morning sickness has been kicking your ass for weeks. Most of your AM has been spent with you feeling so sick, not really able to keep everything except for one thing.

"Making eggs, you can eat that right?" Mark looks over at you, taking in your appearance. In his eyes, you're so beautiful right now wearing his shirt, your pregnant tummy showing.

You see him standing by the stove with a spatula in one hand. Oh your poor adorable husband. Standing in the middle of the kitchen looking like a lost kitten.

"You don't know how to cook eggs" you told him, walking over to him to hug him. Immediately Mark returns the hug, he feels your growing belly against him making him grin. In just a few months, it will be the three of you.

"No but it's the least I could do for you"

"You do enough"

"Nonsense. This is nothing compared to you carrying our child, you're literally growing a human" he exclaims, feeling you chuckle before stepping out of his embrace. Kissing him on the cheek before taking the spatula from him.

"Yes, and your little human here only likes eggs. Unlucky for him, his dad doesn't know how to make one" you tease your husband, earning an eyeroll from him

"I'm trying! see I only broke like two"

"Good job" you indulge him, taking few more eggs from the tray to cook for the two of you.

"I'm a big boy, I can cook"

"You can cook as good as I can ride a bike" you tell him, putting oil on the pan he was using. You can feel Mark from behind you, "You don't know how to ride a bike, baby"

"Exactly"

"You're mean, you've never been mean to me. This isn't you, this is pregnancy talking" he says, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. You just laugh at his statement.

Mark has always been an attentive partner, it's like he has a 6th sense dedicated only to you. He knows if you need something without even saying it, sometimes he knows it before you do. But after finding out you're pregnant with your first child, his son, he's been extra protective of you.

"And who's fault is it hm?"

"Baby, don't act like I'm the only one at fault here"

"Sure sure" you tease him, he stays there hugging you from behind while you cook eggs. "Okay big boy, think you can handle putting the bread in the toaster?"

He chuckles, letting go of you before getting the bread to do as you said.

"Then set up the table, please. Thank you, love you"

"You're really not letting me cook for you?" You can hear the pout in his voice, just in time you finish cooking. You put it on the plate before facing him, passing it over to him.

"I can do it, don't worry too much. I can still do things you know"

"I know, but still" he says

"Mark baby, trust me you'll be the first one to know if I need help okay? For now, stay out of my kitchen. Nothing good comes out when you go there" you tease him

"The last time we were there, we ended up with kid on the way so I wouldn't say nothing good comes out of it" he counters, a cheeky smile on his face

"Lee Minhyung!" you scold him, hitting him on the shoulder. Mark just laughs as he put food on your plate before his.

"I'll shut up now, now be a good girl and eat. You gotta stay healthy, baby boy's gonna get hungry then you're gonna get hangry"

"I don't get hangry" you tell him defensively, but he might be on the right this time. He raises a brow at you, "You were mad at me yesterday because I ate the last mozzarella stick"

"I was saving it! I was waiting for it the whole day then you ate it, you didn't have to remind me now I want more" you pout, Mark leans close to you. Cupping your cheeks before giving a short but sweet kiss,

"We can get more later, whatever you want name it. I'll get it"

"Be careful with your words, Lee. Your son is craving all sorts of weird foods, you're about to drive miles for it"

"You or him? okay okay him"

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burningvelvet · 11 months

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Here are two of the most hilariously scalding letters from the 1800s that I have ever read. One is by the famous writer Lord Byron, and the other is by his daughter Ada Lovelace, the famous mathematician. Both are written to their respective business partners: Byron to his publisher John Murray, and Lovelace to her colleague Charles Babbage. It’s interesting to note how strikingly similar these letters are despite the fact that Ada and her father never knew each other, as her parents separated shortly after her birth and he died abroad when she was eight. Both were rebellious, fond of gambling, prone to tumultuous affairs, and both hated Lady Byron. These similarities may help to explain why her final wish was to be buried next to him instead of her family.

Lord Byron in a Letter to his publisher John Murray about the printing of his magnum opus, the poem Don Juan:

“Ra. August 31st. 1821.

Dear Sir

I have received the Juans – which are printed so carelessly especially the 5th. Canto – as to be disgraceful to me — & not creditable to you.

It really must be gone over again with the Manuscript – the errors are so gross – words added – changed – so as to make cacophony & nonsense. — You have been careless of this poem because some of your Synod don’t approve of it – but I tell you – it will be long before you see any thing half so good as poetry or writing. — Upon what principle have you omitted the note on Bacon & Voltaire? and one of the concluding stanzas sent as an addition? because it ended I suppose – with –

‘And do not link two virtuous souls for life Into that moral Centaur man & wife?’

Now I must say once for all – that I will not permit any human being to take such liberties with my writings – because I am absent. —

I desire the omissions to be replaced (except the stanza on Semiramis) particularly the stanza upon the Turkish marriages – and I request that the whole be carefully gone over with the M.S.S. –

I never saw such stuff as is printed – Gulleyaz – instead of Gulbeyaz &c. Are you aware that Gulbeyaz is a real name – and the other nonsense? – I copied the Cantos out carefully – so that there is no excuse – as the Printer reads or at least prints the M.S.S. of the plays without error. —

If you have no feeling for your own reputation pray have some little for mine. — I have read over the poem carefully – and I tell you it is poetry – Your little envious knot of parson-poets may say what they please — time will show that I am not in this instance mistaken. — Desire my friend Hobhouse to correct the press especially of the last Canto from the Manuscript – as it is – it is enough to drive one out of one’s senses – to see the infernal torture of words from the original. – For instance the line

‘And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves’

Is printed

‘and praise their rhymes &c. –

also ‘precarious’ for ‘precocious’ – and this line. stanza 133.

‘And this strong extreme effect – to tire no longer’

Now do turn to the Manuscript – & see – if I ever made such a line – it is not verse. —

No wonder the poem should fail – (which however it wont you will see) with such things allowed to creep about it. – – Replace what is omitted – – & correct what is so shamefully misprinted, – and let the poem have fair play – – and I fear nothing. — I see in the last two Numbers of the Quarterly – a strong itching to assail me (see the review of the “Etonian”) let it – and see if they shan’t have enough of it. – – I don’t allude to Gifford – who has always been my friend – & whom I do not consider as responsible for the articles written by others. – But if I do not give Mr. Milman – Mr. Southey – & others of the crew something that shall occupy their dream! I am not what I was – that is all

I have not begun with the Quarterers – but let them look to it. – As for Milman (you well know I have not been unfair to his poetry ever) but I have lately had some information of his critical proceedings in the Quarterly which may bring that on him which he will be sorry for. – I happen to know that of him – Which would annihilate him – when he pretends to preach morality – not that he is immoral – because he isn’t – having in early life been once too much so. – And dares he set up for a preacher? let him go and be priest to Cybele. – why let

You will publish the plays – when ready — I am in such a humour about this printing of D.J. so inaccurately – that I must close this.

yrs. [scrawl]

P.S. I presume that you have not lost the stanza to which I allude? it was sent afterwards look over my letters – & find it. The Notes you can’t have lost – you acknowledged them – they included eight or little corrections of Bacon’s mistakes in the apothegms. – And now I ask once more if such liberties taken in a man’s absence – are fair or praise-worthy? – As for you you have no opinions of your own – & never had – but are blown about by the last thing said to you no matter by whom.”

[Separate page]

“Dear Sir

The enclosed letter is written in bad humour – but not without provocation. -

However – let it (that is the bad humour) go for little – but I must request your serious attention to the abuses of the printer which ought never to have been permitted. – You forget that all the fools in London (the chief purchasers of your publications) will condemn in me the stupidity of your printer. — For instance in the Notes to Canto fifth – ‘the Adriatic shore of the Bosphorus – instead of the Asiatic!! – All this may seem little to you – so fine a gentleman with your ministerial connections – but it is serious to me – who am thousands of miles off & have no opportunity of not proving myself the fool yr. printer makes me – except your pleasure & leisure forsooth.

The Gods prosper you — & forgive you, for I wont.

B.”

Ada Lovelace in a letter to her work partner Charles Babbage, who she helped invent the computer with:

“Tuesday Afternoon [1 August 1843] Ockham

. . . Note B has plagued me to death; altho' I have made but little alteration in it. Such alterations as there are however, happen to have been very tiresome & to have demanded minute consideration & very nice adjustments.

It is a very excellent Note.

I wish you were as accurate, & as much to be relied on, as I am myself. You might often save me much trouble, if you were; whereas you in reality add to my trouble not infrequently; and there is at any rate always the anxiety of doubting if you will not get me into a scrape; even when you don't.

By the way, I hope you do not take upon yourself to alter any of my corrections.

I must beg you not. They all have some very sufficient reason. And you have made a pretty mess & confusion in one or two places (which I will show you sometime), where you have ventured in my M.S's, to insert or alter a phrase or word; & have utterly muddled the sense.

I could not conceive at first in one or two places what had happened to my sentences; tho' I soon saw they were patchwork & not my own; and found it so, on referring to the M.S. I fear you will think this a very cross letter. Never mind. I am a good little thing, after all. Yours ever

A. A. L.

Later. P. S. It is impossible to send you anything but Notes B and C; (& this partly owing to some wrong references & blunderations of your own). — Do not be afraid, for I will work like the Devil early tomorrow morning. —“

[Separate Page]

“Wednesday, 4 o'clock [2 August 1843] Ockham

After working almost incessantly, since 7 o'clock this morning, until I am forced to give in from sheer inability to apply longer, I find only the sheet I enclose is quite completed. I shall however send a servant up tomorrow morning by a ten o' clock train, to take you all the rest; so that you will have it almost as soon as this letter.

You cannot conceive the trouble I have had with the trigonometrical Note E. — In fact no one but me, I really believe, would have doggedly stuck to it, as I have been doing, in all wearing minutiae.

I am very uneasy at not hearing from you, as I have expected to do both yesterday & today; & fear some disaster or other. I hope all of Note G is forthcoming; & I also hope you have received all my communications safely.

I think you had better do the second revise of the translation for me. If you will compare it carefully with my first revise, it can hardly be necessary I think for me to go over it again.

I suppose I ought to take it for granted that no news is good news; but I am in a sad fidget. — Yours ever

A. L.”

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hamartia-grander · 6 months

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Alrighty here’s mah lil ranty rant (But long, many apologies I dunno how I could shorten it)

Let’s start with Ada bc mommy- I mean mommy- I mean- (/j)

Ada Wong:

-So I see a lot of people trash Ada for the fact her personality seems to be more cold. She has distant she’s cruel (although she still seems to have lines she won’t cross, like with Wesker and the Las Plagas sample). I see people complain about that but I would like to make a hot take, here: it’s actually better. She’s a mercenary. She’s a gun for hire- her job has to be cold because she could be betraying her friends at any given second. In the older games, she was sort of just… I don’t know… A bit too human for the job, and the role in the story that she is meant to fill. I see people describing her as a Bella, and honestly, I strongly disagree. In fact, I would argue that the original was more of a Bella then the remakes. This is because all she was really there is for the generic “Ooh look pretty woman, bad ass eye candy” trope. I’m not saying that she didn’t have any depth as a character- I’m just saying that the remake gave her much more credit as a character, and made her much more interesting.

all right, moving onto the old man. (#1 Wesker hater over here I’m sorry I’m not sorry lol)

Albert Wesker:

-I know that I hate this guy, but even I have to appreciate that out of quite a few of the Weskers that have been made, this version is just better written. I see people complain that he is too angry and honestly, I disagree. The fact that he has a hidden anger, makes sense from a character perspective. And he’s getting increasingly more cheesed off at Spencer for obvious reasons. No wonder he’s pissed. Personally, I think the fact that they’re showing that he has emotions- he’s just learned to control them- is honestly much more compelling. I still hate the guy, but I can see where he’s coming from- in a twisted and a messed up way.

yeah. That’s it l. that’s all I got for him. I don’t really like him that much so he doesn’t deserve a whole essay like Ada imo. (Still like his character, though he’s very interesting.)

that’s my rant. Thanks for hearing me out -> I know this was ridiculously long. That’s why I asked permission first. I basically just wrote an entire essay in your asks and I am so sorry lmao

hjadsg no need to apologise. I may have to contest you for #1 wesker hater tho,,, 👀 I hate his guts too

BUT you're absolutely right the DLC added so much depth to their characters. and personally made wesker MORE hate-able to me personally because we just further see how messed up he is, to the point where even Ada - who has had to numb herself to the details of the job to survive - had visible negative reactions to his genocidal nonsense. I loved Lily's performance in the base game but she especially got to shine in the DLC, she absolutely nailed the cold look with emotion hidden underneath. Ada's cold exterior is her armour against her own emotions, she can't take a second to feel as that could be the second she dies, she doesn't have the luxury of emotional vulnerability; even though she does feel, she does care, she cannot afford to let herself. And little things like eye movements, lip twitches, subtle body language, and her inflections were all techniques Lily used to portray that tumultuous relationship between Ada and her feelings, and Lily did fucking amazing at it. Best Ada performance ever. Ada's never been allowed that depth before because she's always had to be palatable to the male audience :) so I'm glad she's finally getting it. And Wesker finally feels like a real villain, rather than just another power hungry white guy (which, he very much is, but now there's depth to it lol). Wesker's dialogue in the DLC is scary, and it makes the audience more aware of what exactly he believes and what his motives are. This DLC added so much to the base game that really drives it as my favourite RE game.

#and ofc Ada is mommy #Ada Wong #albert wesker #resident evil 4 remake #Separate Ways #resident evil 4 #resident evil analysis #asks

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mountain-lion-gremlin · 10 months

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You this is a rant about physical shifting, scroll past and simply do not read if you do not partake in physical shifting, or have delusions of physical shifting. Thank you.

What I find interesting is that us physical shifters have constantly been beat down because some of us can physically shift.

Look I dont like to make arguements or anything, but how is it possible for some people to REPEATEDLY report them shapeshifting into their animal, and swear on their life that they are not lying? Why would they lie about that?

To be creditable means that any sort of lie can ruin so much for so many people. It's just so absurd to lie about, much less teach about if no one has actually shifted.

Physical shifting is completely nonsensical. Most shifters don't even know WHY they shift. There's so much we don't know, and modern science as we know it doesn't fit the standards of shifting. I've seen a lot about it - how you would burn up and die, or no matter which way you look at it, shapeshifting is fatal. But it just. doesnt. make. sense.

We would have to run actual experiments on shapeshifters, and due to the fact that nobody believes we exist, or that we are cringy roleplayers - mix that in with the general fear of getting experimented on by scientists, and you get a whole flurry of confusion, doubt, and overall hatred for both sides from both sides.

And even though we are told, over and over again, that we are humans, wrong, delusional, some of us still shift. I'm working my way towards physical shifting. Many of my friends that I know have shifted, or are also making their way there.

And many people think that we do insane rituals, or tell younger ones and influence them to the point of delusions, but that's simply not true. Many young people come to the community asking for help, and we try our best to help them. (At least the part that I'm in) We encourage them to think, to ponder about themselves and allow themselves the room and freedom to ask as many questions as they like. Nobody is obligated to believe anything, anyone says. We all have a horrible habit of just believing whatever we read on the internet though, please make sure to take everything with a grain of salt and remember not everyrhing will apply to you!

Sure, we've got our fair share of cults, but what group or community doesn't? It's just so tiring hearing that we need "reality checks" and we are mental, etc. If you really hate us that bad, do you hate therians? If you take away the physical shifting aspect, literally we are all just therians at that point. We literally both came from the same group, and were rejected by everyone else (therians, humans, etc.) So we made our own group so we can safely mingle.

I found my bestest, lifelong friend by physical shifting. I wouldn't trade my experiences for the world at this point. And so what if we aren't actually shifting? We are being who we are, and the reason why we don't mingle with the rest of you is because you hate us for being who we are. Heck, I've probably been blocked by many people now, and am known as a physical shifter on some list, somewhere.

Isn't it nice being shunned? There's a reason many of us don't even say if we practice it or not. We have garnered such a horrible reputation and such a bad wrap because of it. But its whatever. Honestly, I would rather not be friends with someone who will block, or hate, or ignore for two dumb words without even knowing my side of the story.

Anyways, that's my rant. Thanks for reading if you did. Feel free to comment and we can chat if you like, or debate if you want. Keep it civil, and be strong yall.

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possessesnightshift · 1 month

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just over a year into it and already ai bullshit is essentially normal now.

not even probing into all the published research papers with clear evidence of ai in them (looking at you rat dick paper) or the fact that google images are now a bunch of ai generated nonsense, just seeing the way people talk about something like ai art is really discouraging

i see all these debates about why ai art is bad that boil down to "the problem isn't the artwork this person created, the problem is..." with that sentence being finished with either mentioning the unethical data mining or the environmental toll or whatever. but the problem is the very premise of that sentence is wrong no matter what goes at the end of it. if you type shit into a prompt and it spits out something that resembles a finished painting, you did not 'create' anything.

i want to go out of my way to emphasize that while the other bigger picture issues with ai are much more important than whether an ai "artist" deserves credit for their work, i still think it's entirely valid to say "ai art is also bad for letting people act entitled to the same praise and compensation as someone would have for literally painting the goddamn thing by hand."

"but what about the disability aspect? don't artists without fine motor skills deserve to be able to express themselves too?" im barely even going to entertain this line of defense simply for the implication that disabled artists (which i am btw, but not visual art) could not make art until 2023 is offensive to disabled artists throughout history, but also because it doesn't address my main problem with ai art either

a perfectly able-bodied ai artist is equally scuzzy to anyone else who solely relies on some OpenAI product to have any ability to create art. the problem isn't the fact that a computer is generating the art instead of brush or whatever. the problem is that there is NO ARTISTIC PROCESS.

you had no contribution to what the coders and programmers had to do to make ai art happen. you just benefit from their technology. but as a result of that, you allow their coding decisions to shape YOUR art. even if you rephrase the prompt over and over, you won't get the level of control necessary to create anything that isn't just regurgitated fluff. art isn't just a finished product. art is a feeling of inspiration that drives you to create. art is a way for humans to express truths beyond talking or writing about it. art involves imagining, listening, experimenting, and most importantly TIME.

it takes effort and practice over a non-instantaneous period of time to grow as an artist. and not only that, but that growth is THE ENTIRE FUCKING POINT.

i could preach more about this but i think i've touched on my main idea here. at the end of the day, we're so brainwashed by capitalism that we don't even see the way we regard the things we love as mere products. art is supposed to take time. art is supposed to be not obvious. while it might feel like i just wanna shit on top of anyone who considers themselves an ai artist, i honestly feel really bad for these people. if the idea of creating art could move these people as profoundly as it moves me, they wouldn't even think about using ai. i know these people won't get nearly the same joy or fulfillment from typing words into a prompt and spitting out images. even if they did, they still have remarkably little control over how they engage with making their art (what if fucking all of the ai models get sued and taken down forever? then what?)

art is not something that can be bought or sold. people don't seek out art to connect to the process of making money in the most efficient way possible. they want a connection to humanity. wherever that connection exists, people will find it (even in art is that's considered Bad by society's arbitrary standards).

and oh boy is there no faster way to guarantee a piece of art has no connection to humanity whatsoever than to ask the shitty, dysfunctional chatbot troubleshooting your wifi not starting up to make ALL OF THE ARTISTIC DECISIONS for you.

#ai #ai art #ugh i needed to get that off my chest #like yeah its petty to focus on teenagers or whatever saying they made real art #for generating a picture of a goldfish #but like #i should be allowed to feel offended that people just treat it like a disposable product #as if their disinterest in how the work they consume is made #makes it ok #but yeah fuck capitalism for deciding being an artist isn't a career you should survive on #despite the fact that EVERYONE DEMANDS ART #but nobody wants to compensate the people who make it

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shawnjacksonsbs · 10 months

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Choose.

And there's no law that says I can't change the way I teach.

It's necessary, at times. 6-24-23

"You are who you choose to be." - Hogarth Hughes

That means them, you, and me.

Even the best jugglers can get tripped up. You ever see one of those juggling acts where they have a random person continually throw balls into the rotation?

There's a reason they stop at the number they do. Maybe it's 8, or 15, or 20. It's pretty awe-inspiring, too. But they stop because they haven't trained for that next one. Whether they could do it is a matter of faith and training.

If they did add one more and it all tumbled, would it take away from how good they just were 5 seconds before with one less ball in the mix?

It shouldn't.

It’s still pretty badass. . .what they did do. And they can come back later, renewed, and practiced up to do it better than before.

Tough jobs and spills don't disqualify anyone. As a matter of fact, those are prerequisites for being human. Just sayin'.

Examples that fuel the reverse of growth, but only in my head-sometimes;

Long hours, hard work, and regular boss shit doesn’t get to count in my regurgitated emotional healing cycle, so. . .

Things like, finding out that most “turmoil” and “grief” we get from customers generally seem to come from doing work for “our” people. Weird right? Strangers, the ones that should be skeptical of contractors give us way less trust issues.

But we live and learn and, still being in our 1st year at Pride Fence means wrapping our arms all the way around learning curves and life lessons! Lol no lol The difference between the words proposal and estimate will help, and signed contracts, signed change orders, and initialed drawings etc., etc. Remaining professional in the interim, is as difficult as those days are long. Lol No really.

The irony found in renting a trailer to haul material to a few jobs, because the job I was to start got postponed and none of the others were ready to go, (for good reason), so I decide on picking up enough 1x6x5s for both jobs only to find out that a typo “had occurred” and the majority of those pickets were supposed to be 1x6x6s.

Into stock they go.

Running out of room for material overflow, plus the remaining pickets would have fit on my truck, but at least the trailer wasn’t a total loss because I need to haul a tear out off-site.

“What?”

“The customer doesn’t want us to do that today either?”

“Damn, Ok”

Trailer was rented for no reason, after all. Lol

We work with what got, right? Find things to be grateful for. I did save 2 hours of drive time by not doing the tear out. That’s a win, and the rest we learnt from. Win/win Eh, will call it a draw.

I can remember calling days like these, bad. "Had a bad day" or "having a bad day", and back then they might've been. . .bad days.

We changed all that nonsense, though. We call them tough days now, or maybe difficult. I have plenty of tough days, but they damn sure ain't bad, not really.

You come find me in a year or 2 or even in a few months and ask me if I had any bad days, bet I say no. Hell I probably won't even remember having consecutive tough days.

It's one of the things I do that helps me with my acceptance and my perception of life.

Several tough days can wear on you though and in the moment(s) I can lose focus to remain. . .here (at peace).

Tired is another thing I wear all the time. I wish I could outgrow that as easily as I do clothes. Lol

I also have to remember that I control so much more of my life than I give myself credit for, or allow myself . . .to. It’s easy to lose sight of that when you live in an area where everyone else gives credit to someone else’s will, or fate, or whatever.

It’s not set in stone, until after it passes.

I am pretty stoked about going to see my oldest son tomorrow. He is in a faith based recovery program way down southern Missouri. He’s like 2 months in, and he’s never stayed somewhere before more than a few detox days. It’s a milestone moment for him, and probably the same for me. No pressure though. I just want him to stay ok. It’s not a big ask. It only feels like it is. Lol no lol

Got another son moving out soon. A little sad, or disappointed, or both that he has to move out. It's not how I wanted it, but it's not solely in my control, his . . . behavior has a hand on the steering wheel as well. The learning has to take, or what's the point.

Love is love through it all though. Boundaries and conditions are for all parties to benefit from, even if some won't see, or feel them for a time.

The rest of my kids, are experiencing adult life the best ways they know, but seem like they got it down well enough I can be proud from here.

I love them all.

All the time.

Regardless of their circumstances, frustrations, and visitations. lol

Now, be kind, remain grateful and, and. . .

I was gonna say, stay humble, but, although humility is beneficial, and how! I do believe that to succeed one has to believe in oneself. Pride is too important to pass on.

It's like 60/40 pride/humility, maybe even 65/35.

Pride in myself, and what I do, without being conceded and cocky is instrumental in assuring success.

Plus, the pride I'm talking about comes from the learning from our mistakes and owning our shit. Isn't that what humility is?

Recognize, be kind, and remain grateful. Staying cool is optional. Lol

Until next week;

"Every one of us are a product of all the things we've experienced, seen, read, and heard in our lives. So when I write, I'm remembering things that happened. Those things become part of the story". - Stan Lee

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emmabee14 · 1 year

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Dystopia To Walk Away From and Utopia To Walk Towards

Utopia is an idea to keep striving towards, Utopia is the fight for a better world. To deconstruct ideas about the ways we live, to consider how we can improve to make this society a place where everyone can thrive. Where we can thrive. Needs met, not at the expense of others. Neither hyper-individualism nor carelessness for one but An ever-progressing stride towards Care for all.

I don’t dream of cyber-punk bars, of a silver planet, or a home on Mars. I don’t dream of a castle in the sky, I dream of my hands in the dirt and that glint in your eyes. I don’t dream of a sea full of ships, But I do in some ways and that’s the Problem with it. With what? With what we’ve got here, with the path we’re on track for The rules we adhere To the nonsense and some sense and a little of both. It’s so confusing, so much, So overwhelming for most.

And I fall into the sugary traps, The little white lies and the salty sweet snacks. The lies that, to be more myself I must Buy it, Buy me, Throw me in a landfill Once I’m done being it. And when I want another me I’ll order it, delivered to my house.

I’m usually a sugar-coater Hidden metaphor kind of poet not Outright saying anything but hoping that you’ll get it. And maybe that’s all that makes a poet, someone with some rhythm That moves ideas, streamlined from the ocean Into an order that feels sort of divine, Where maybe something someone somewhere saw will come into your mind.

Because right now, we are Dividing the people, Multiplying the fear. Me. I. Am. Different, separate, special, Shutting away into solitary instead of solidarity. Always needing more, Never, ever enough.

And I think I Take issue with that, Take issue maybe with distraction. Immense, mass distraction. Hyper-individualized distraction, Consumer-friendly distraction, Add to cart, confirm credit card distraction. “Buy you to be you” taken to dystopian extremes. Absolutely, we create our own avatar but That’s not the point of the game.

And maybe somewhere along the line something changes, Maybe people see each other more, Maybe people see we’re not so different And want equity for all, in order to reflect that. Maybe people see where their food and plastic and plastic food comes from And want better, demand better, for everyone. Maybe it all crumbles. Maybe there is no choice but change. Maybe it happens very slowly, Maybe suddenly it rains And pours and next thing we know-

Up and out and onto the next. Slower now, more mindful Faster now, more opportunist.

The need for techno-escapism dissolves as technology becomes tools for the world, not the world itself. As this web of humanity becomes a more welcoming, helpful, human place. As Earth becomes greener, not grayer, A better field for every player. As self detaches from material, As hands meet hands meet Earth.

A sprout of this into a bloom of that. Growth over greed, Love over fear, Connection over consumption, And One over one. Roots over leaves, but Tenderness for the whole tree.

#poetry #poem #wrote this for a class about utopian literature #its a bit rough and I'll probably work it more but yeah #utopia #dystopia #work in progress

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lilliththegreat · 1 year

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I didn't sleep today.

That's bad.

Some bank work.

The happy thing is I felt sad and I thought I will peek into my ex-boyfriend insta today

So I opened my private account as today is his birthday.

To see him without his knowledge.

Surprisingly, when I opened it is so beautiful I received a demonic message from Lucifer through satanandson account.

I thought what am I thinking....

He is always watching over me yet I am feeling desperate seeking a low vibrational human.

If that is N it is a better-allowed choice to peek..

Always Lucifer will show me that sign when I feel so down.

That's nice.

He used to get upset while N is keeping me waiting for a reply.

It's not his fault still Lu will get upset if I start crying for being neglected.

Lucifer said this last week when I asked about N's status.

Pondering

Hmm...

Then I found out the corpse is responsible for my loan rejections.

He has used my id and received a credit card.

The delayed payments are reflecting my cibil score which should be high to get eligible for loans.

I thought he must die.

How much he has ruined my life !

That made me feel down.

Sef replied after two days I guess.

Meh...softy .

Sorry

Thanks

....

Human life nonsense.

Anyway I told him the parents are not interested.

Now I must sleep or take rest.

Already I got a bit agitated.

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shipsandlattes · 3 years

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So I know everyone has already dissected this scene to its core, but it’s taken me a good 48 hours to digest this and I just needed to get it out.

I’m an aspiring actor, I’ve been training for a long time, with a lot of amazing teachers. I’ve watched a lot of shows and shipped a lot of couples. Some of them beautiful and canon, others, well, let’s just say waiting 22 years and counting for acknowledgement, closure, anything, it’s a damn challenge. I’ve seen a hell of a lot of will-they-wont-they’s, baiting, purposeful ignorance, deliberate fake outs, zero explanations, storylines that basically caused canon disintegration, the works.

In saying that, Dean and Cas were right up there on the list with the other “impossibles” because honestly, I didn’t think the writers would have the guts to do it, but I am so f*cking proud they did. It’s safe to say I’ve watched the scene a good hundred+ times already.

I’ve seen a lot of “controversy” around Dean’s reaction/Jensen’s acting choices and whether or not Dean reciprocates Cas’ feelings, and obviously, I needed to add my own views to the mix.

Just work with me for a minute here.

Dean Winchester is an emotionally repressed trainwreck, and ironically enough, the one that is so full of emotion it hurts to watch. When Cas first starts his speech, he’s confused, really confused because why on earth would Cas start off on a rant now? Billie’s waiting to kill them, he just said he knew something that was more powerful than she was, something that could save them. That’s where he thought this speech was going.

The confusion turns to realisation that it’s a goodbye when Cas starts telling him how incredible he is, how his entire essence is love. Go back and watch the scene again, when Cas says “you’re the most caring man on Earth”, you physically see Dean look down, his eyes searching, he’s actively trying to make sense of what’s happening, he knows what’s coming and you can see him coming to terms with the shock of the words being said to him. He then looks directly at Cas. That look, that was pure shock.

Also, notice how he doesn’t stop Cas from talking? He doesn’t interject, make a joke, doesn’t talk about how there is no time for this now, they’ve got to at least try and stop Billie. He. says. nothing. He listens, he listens like I’ve never seen Dean listen before. Because it’s sinking in now.

When Cas really starts crying, when he says “you changed me, Dean”, you can actually see the pain in Dean’s eyes. He’s no longer in control of his emotions, he’s crying too. He’s never seen Cas like this, so raw, and vulnerable and human. This is the hardest, most emotional conversation they’ve both ever had. They are talking about the one thing that everybody knows, but is never addressed. When it wasn’t talked about, they could deny it, live in the lie. Once it’s said aloud, it’s real and they can’t turn back.

This above series of interactions is the part that kills me the most. The moment Cas says “because it is”, that’s the exact moment of realisation. Look at that last GIF, really look. He’s just worked it out, that he is Cas’ true happiness. He knows what’s coming before Cas even says it. Go back and watch the scene again, they pulled that off so well, the way the music swells at this exact moment. Jensen is giving us everything here, you can see what’s happening in his head - he is Cas’ happiness. He is the one thing on Earth Cas wants and thinks he can’t have. He is the reason Cas is about to die. He knows what Cas is about to say and he’s not sure he’s ready to hear it, not now, not like this. It’s almost a silent plea not to say it, because he knows. Of course he knows. It’s like he can’t quite believe Cas is really, after all this time, finally going to say it.

And because obviously Jensen decided that that wasn’t enough to break us, the loaded reaction when Cas says “I love you” has me nothing but convinced that it’s reciprocated. Because Dean knows. He’s always known. Those tears, that head tilt, that gulp. He’s so genuinely confused that they’re really having this conversation. It’s like he can’t quite believe that this is the reality before him because he’s been living in that denial, in that self-loathing and unlovable layer he believes to be true. He’s been under the ‘what if... but it could never be’ umbrella for so long.

What also makes this real is that there isn’t anyone else around this time. When “I love you’s” have been said before, they have always been able to deflect it, with other people or other words. Now it’s just the two of them. No deflecting, no running away. Dean is forced to hear it, to absorb it, to realise it’s for nobody else but him.

Now, I don’t know if you guys felt this, but when Dean says “Don’t do this, Cas”, he wasn’t just referring to Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty, he’s telling Cas that he can’t just say this, not now, knowing he’s going to die, knowing that Dean won’t get a chance to think, to process, to say what he needs too. I keep staring at that GIF above, Dean is breaking down, I’m almost convinced that Jensen was using an “I love you too, please just stop this” inner monologue for this bit. Look at the way he’s looking at Cas before he realises the Empty has started materialising and turns around. That’s a look of pure heartbreak. Trust me when I tell you, it’s really hard to keep those inner thoughts inside if you’re so in the moment - actually, don’t just take my word for it, read any acting book, ask any actor, it’s so hard to keep that in and sometimes you don’t, and sometimes you do - it’s in both the resistance and the letting go that the gold happens. This my friends, is gold.

Did anyone else hear “Cas, I-”, well, regardless of whether or not it was an “I” or a very sharp breath, the outcome is the same. Dean’s gone into immediate panic mode. The Empty at one end and Billie at the other, and all poor Dean wants to do is gather his thoughts on not what to say but how to say it. I don’t think he comprehended just how little time he had, he was so focused on what was being said that the reality of the situation caught him completely off guard.

Also, I know this post was about dissecting Dean’s reaction, but can we sidebar a minute to talk about Cas as he pushes Dean out of the way? He’s sobbing, he’s fully crying. That hit me really hard, I’ve never seen Cas cry like that, I’ve never seen Misha get to play that level of emotion before and it was the most heartbreaking thing to watch since The Doctor and Rose and Buffy and Spike, to which by the way, I find many parallels between those couples and this scene.

Speaking of crying, that brings me to this: Dean slumped on the floor, ignoring a call from Sam, sobbing his heart out knowing he’s lost everything. Dean-I’m-emotionally-unavailable-Winchester is sobbing. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t recall ever seeing Dean cry like this before either, the sobbing was so evident and piercing in that silence. The look around the room, the burying of his head in his hands, that is a classic writers romantic love trope if I’ve ever seen it, they really pulled out all the stops with this one.

So, to summarise, I think Jensen’s choices and Dean’s reactions were absolutely and utterly perfect. They both did it so well that it didn’t break from character that these two emotionally distant and repressed men are in love and finally voicing it. Jensen barely said two words and still managed to cause mass coronary’s across the fandom. That my friends is what you call a brilliant actor. I bow down to the talents of these two amazing human beings.

Before I leave this novel, I have to say there are now a few things I’m going to need from the powers that be to not screw this up, help me manifest this:

1. Dean gets to reciprocate his feelings to Cas in person. So, I’m gonna need Cas back and a very emotional Dean.

2. Dean to be actively dealing with heartbreak in the next episode (unless they decided to bring Cas back that soon, which I wouldn’t put past them at this point).

3. Sam to confront Dean about his feelings for Cas, because out of everyone, he’d be the one to hit Dean with the truth of his fears. Sam knows. Sam is supportive. Sam sees it all.

4. I’m gonna need some physical affection, cause after 12 years of nonsense, we damn well deserve it. A hug, and not just any old reunion hug, a proper, this is different now hug. A kiss because hello, in love out loud now. Forehead touching, handholding, really gonna need the works here.

5. A happy ending for the two of them, one way or another. We’ve never had one, it’s time.

Okay, have at it now, let’s speak these into existence please.

Note: GIFs are not mine, I did not make them, credit to owners who I’m not sure of, but they’re beautiful, thanks for making them. EDIT: I’ve just been informed that these gorgeous gifs belong to @michaeldean and @inacatastrophicmind!

#supernatural #SPN #DeanCas #destiel #deanwinchtser #castiel #15x18 #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #actor #acting #I ship it #shipper #i love you #spn spoilers #opinion piece #thoughts #my two cents #ships and lattes

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bts-weverse-trans · 3 years

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210101 Namjoon’s Weverse Post

2020년이 가네요.

이름처럼 무언가 특별할 것 같던 모두의 기대를 무참히 비웃었던 해였습니다. 관객 없는 무대, 함성 없는 스테이지.. 이게 정말 말이 되나. 말이 되나. 어제도 그제도 매번 똑같이 생긴 스튜디오 대기실 의자에 앉아 무심히 되뇌고 곱씹고. 정말이지 넌센스가 센스가 되는 세상이 와버렸구나, 하고.

바위 틈으로 떨어지는 물처럼 무심히 학습되는 무기력. 좌절을 표상하는 모든 것들에 저항해보려 뭔가 자리를 박차고 일어나야할 것 같은 기분이지만, 같은 곳에 그저 있으라고, 머물라고 말하는 저 손가락들. 책을 읽고 또 읽고, 언택트ㅡ 로 시작하는 낯선 무엇무엇을 해보고. 홈트도. 배달음식도 먹어보고. 좁은 방 할 수 있는 모든 것을 다 해본 우리의 부단한 1년이 아니었을까요. 지금도 이렇게 진행 중이지만요..

이러나 저러나 시간은 가고 세상은 돌고. 영영 안 가줄 것만 같던 이 해를 보내고 살아남아 다시 봄을 기다리는 사람들. 이번엔 봄이 정말 올까, 봄 같아줄 정말 그 봄이 오나. 실망하기 싫어 기대도 않으려지만 그래도 실낱같은 희망 부스러기 같은 거라도 꼭 붙잡고 있어야 또 잠에서 깰 수 있는 것이 결국 사람 아닌가 싶어요. 와중에 이 추운 겨울에도 많은 분들의 사랑과 애정어린 시선을 받고 있다는 사실을 다시 또 한 번 가슴에 새겨보면서, 쉽게 꺾이지 않겠다 결연히 혼잣말 해봅니다. 아무도 없어도 내가 듣고 있습니다.

이번 해를 보내면서는 좀 짧고 담담히 적어내려가보자 했지만 또 잔뜩 꼬리에 꼬리를 무는 말들을 보니, 저는 아름드리 나무가 되려면 한참 멀었나봐요. 매일 가지치기를 해도 머리 뒷쪽을 타고 자라나는 명료하고 흐릿한 말과 상상들. 손 내밀어 허공에다라도 한 번 저어보지 않고는 살아갈 수가 없다는 생각이 드는 건 그냥 원래 제 모양 같은 거겠죠 뭐. 주변 어른들은 '너는 원래 좀 썽이 풀려야되는 사람이다' 하시더라고요. 성도 아니고 썽이라고. ㅋㅋㅋ

요즘엔 미세먼지라도 없는 날이면 참 기분이 좋았습니다. 예전보다 더 그렇네요. 뭔가 기분좋음의 하한선이 한없이 밑으로 내려간 느낌? 쉽게 만족하니 좋은 걸까요. 그러면 갑자기, 혹시 지금 실제로 여러분 앞에서 무대를 할 수 있다면? 전엔 당연했던 것들이 왜이리 꿈결 같은지.. 허허. 올해를 소중한 걸 소중히 하지 않았던 데 대한 레슨으로 삼아보려 합니다. 아직 우리는 모르지만 분명 많은 것들을 우리에게 가르쳐주지 않았을까요. 깨닫게 될 때까지 오랜 시간이 걸리지 않길 바랄 뿐입니다.

노을이 처마 끝에 매달려 있습니다. 이 푸른 점 속 어떤 형태로든 남아보려 애쓰며 부유하는 나와 같은 많은 먼지들에게. 또 우릴 위협하고 집어삼키려는 바깥의 저 익숙한 냉소와 질시들에게. 편지를 씁니다. 이 한 해는 헛되지 않았다고. 끝내 사랑이라는 말 밖에는 떠오르지 않지만 무언가 더 좋은, 닳고 닳지 않은 말들을 찾아 헤매어 이렇게 또 쓰네요. 지칠 법도 한 이 나날들 속 이 피로한 여정에 기꺼이 함께해주셔서 감사합니다.

그저 건강하시고, 많이 같이 웃었으면 좋겠어요. 더 봄 같은 봄날을 향해 같이 걸어가요. 사랑합니다. 올해도 고생 많으셨습니다. 저희가 힘이 되었으면 좋겠습니다.

Do remember they can't cancel the spring.

새해 복 많이 받으세요 ! (- -) (_ _) (- -)

- 남준

I see the year 2020 [yet another year] is leaving. Though we expected 2020 to be special like the name would suggest [2020, marking the start of a new decade], it was a year that ruthlessly laughed in our faces. Performances without audiences, stages without cheers/applause.. Does this really make sense. Does this make sense/is this real. Yesterday and the day before yesterday too, I sat in the same old studio waiting room chair and brooded over it over and over again. Thinking, “Really, a world has come in which ‘nonsense’ has become ‘sense’.”

Lethargy, that carelessly/indifferently gets learned like [the slow repetitive rhythm of] water falling through the gap between rocks. Though it feels like, in order to resist everything that represents frustration [or defeat in despair], I need to burst out of my seat in order to accomplish it, I am told by those fingers pointing at me to just stay in the same place--to just stay. I read books and then read some more, start strange new things through "Untact" (Korea's newly-coined term for "no contact"). Home-teu (at-home training/working out) and delivery food too. Doing everything conceivable that can be done in our small rooms, was this not our constant perpetual life rhythm this year? Though it is still ongoing/we are still continuing to live in this way..

One way or another, time passes. And the people who survived this past year feeling like this year would never pass/leave/go away, are now waiting for spring again. Will spring really come? Will a spring that really feels like spring come? Though I try not to have expectations because I don't want to be disappointed, I think it is what humans are inclined to do/what it is to be a person--to want to hold tight to a crumb-like thread of hope to be able to wake up from sleep again. In the midst of all that, I engrave into my chest once again the fact that, even in this cold winter, I am/we are receiving the love and affectionate gazes of many people, and I say to myself with determination that I will not be easily broken/swayed. Even if no one is there, I am listening.

While sending off this past year, I tried to keep my writing short and to write calmly but seeing as how each word has latched onto the tail end of the previous sentence a whole lot, it seems I am still a long way from becoming a beautiful tree*. Though I try to prune [my thought branches] every day, clear and blurry words and imaginations creep up following the path in the back of my head, and grow. Well, I guess me thinking "I can't live without needing to stick my hand out into the abyss and stir my hand about [out of curiosity/out of the need to find out/get a feel for what's out there]" is just my original shape [is just who I am as a person]. The grown-ups/older people around me say 'you're the type of person who needs to let go of/release his ssung.' Not even sung (anger), but ssung ('anger' said with emphasis). Kekeke

These days, I felt good/was in a good mood just by having a day without fine dust/toxic haze/air pollution. I seem to be like that even more than before. It feels like my bar for what warrants a good mood has gotten endlessly lower? Is it a good thing that I am now satisfied easily? Then suddenly I ask 'what if I could actually perform in front of you all now in person?' Why do the things that were obvious/for certain/a given before, feel like a dream.. huhu/hoho (pensive, somewhat old-man-scholar-like laugh). I'm trying to store this past year away as a lesson about not cherishing/treating as precious what is precious. Though we may not know it yet, [this past year] must have taught us so many things. I just hope it doesn't take us long to realize what it is we have learned.

The sunset is currently hanging on at the end of the eaves. To the many particles of dust** who, like me, are working hard to stay afloat in this blue dot (T/N: probably referring to the earth**) in whatever form they can manage. And to the familiar cynicism, envy and jealousies over there outside that threaten to devour us. I write this letter. To say this past year was not in vain. In the end, the words "I love you" are the only ones that come to mind but I write to you like this again while searching and wandering/struggling to find a better word that hasn't been worn and worn again. During these days that are probably exhausting, thank you for staunchly/gladly accompanying us on this weary journey.

My only wish is that you all are healthy and that we all laugh a lot together. Let us walk onward towards a more spring-like spring day. You all went through a lot this year/well done. I hope we can be a source of strength to you.

Do remember they can't cancel the spring.

Happy New Year (wishing you lots of luck/fortune in the new year) !

(- -) (_ _) (- -)

-Namjoon

(T/N: *아름드리 나무 (beautiful tree) is the wording Namjoon’s counselor/therapist used several years ago to reassure Namjoon when Namjoon was worried he thinks and talks too much. The tree analogy is mentioned and explained in his BTS Live : RM 🍊 Vlive + **copy editor @welilyandblue theorizes that Joon using “blue dot” and “particles of dust” to describe the earth and the humans that inhabit it respectively is most likely taken from Carl Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot, 1994)

Trans cr: Amy @ bts-weverse-trans © Please credit when taking out

#bangtan #namjoon #weverse #210101 #post #2021

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Dark Shenanigans - Nandor x (f)reader

Summary: It’s Nadja’s something hundredth birthday, with that said, you’re on a mission to make it great.

Warning: fluff, general vampire nonsense

Masterlist

“Yeah being a half vampire half human does have its perks. I mean for one I can do all that cool vampire shit and I can go out in the sunlight...so that helps for when they’re all being really annoying.” You admit with a casual shrug to one of the documentary cameras before turning to an isle of party supplies. “So anyways we’re at this store.”

The camera shifts to the multiple arras of supplies and materials at the local supermarket in Staten Island that you and your vampire lover’s human familiar, Guillermo, currently are. Specifically on the hunt for birthday decorations for Nadja and ghost Nadja who’s possessed a strange looking doll for the time being.

Since the other four actual full vampires can’t shop for themselves at this time of day or really in general, you and Guillermo have been given such an honorable task in making Nadja’s birthday the best one yet. Considering she’s the most well balanced in the head out of the four of them and is the only other lady of the manor.

“Hey Y/N, how’s this look?” Wonders Guillermo as he holds up a bunch of Mardi Gras beads of yellows, purples, and greens. “Comments, questions, concerns?” He adds with a small smile.

Eyeing up the beads, your head shifts over to the other various colors, “Hrmm, G I’m feeling the vibe you’re going for this year and I like it, but let’s go with Nadja colors.”

Guillermo’s dark eyes light up at your positive suggestion, “Right! So the red and black ones then?”

“Yup. She’ll love that shit.” You state with a satisfied nod of approval, “Let’s get some black and gold confetti from over there and oh, those masquerade masks look cool as fuck.”

You pick up and test out various masks in the background as Guillermo adds some bits of dialogue for the documentary crew, “Um yeah she’s really cool isn’t she.” He says with a smile while glancing at you then back to the camera, “Which is kind of odd since Y/N’s been with Nandor since 1793 so you’d think she’d be a little more like them but no, she’s super chill and really nice.” Suddenly his face goes a bit serious as he leans in to whisper, “But she did kill a whole street gang once when they threw a slur at me so I wouldn’t mess with her. For your safety.”

The camera pans back over to an oblivious you who’s put on a masquerade mask and is swinging a plastic light saber around with a whole lot more accuracy and grace then would a normal person. The camera then pans back to Gullimero, “Um, I’m just gonna....make sure she doesn’t smack anyone.”

——

Arms full of groceries of food for you and Gullimero, as well as random party decorations for Nadja’s birthday tomorrow night, you use the bottom of your boot to skillfully open the door as the documentary crew and Guillermo follows suit. Guillermo now on the verge of falling over with the large heart shaped pillow in his arms that’s covering most of his body.

You don’t feel tired in the slightest due to your half vampiric abilities so this is nothing to you, “Alright.” You state, turning on your heel to face the crew and Guillermo, “They’re asleep so we gotta be extra sneaky now, I don’t want Nadja catching us with all this cool spooky birthday shit. Everyone to the attic!” You whisper yell before leading the charge to the attic.

They all follow as quietly and as quickly as they can and then soon enough in no time are you and Guillermo back outside in the sunny garden trying to figure out if you should blow up the giant sea monster pool floaty.

“I mean it would look cool as hell and no doubt out-do whatever the fuck boring thing Lazlo probably has planned.” You quip with a shrug while the two of you stare thoughtfully at the small gloomy dark pond. “He’s got no chance with us. I’ve won best decorator and card maker for two hundred years in a row.”

Guillermo side eyes you in honest amazement, “Wow that’s a lot of years. And cards.”

“I know. I was an artist in the 12th century but my no good terrible good for nothing piece of garbage trash sexist human husband, who I was forced to marry when I was only sixteen, took all the credit for my artwork in that era.” You confirm with a growl, “But it stings less because once I finally grew into my powers and strength at eighteen I simply made his untimely demise look like an accident.” You add with a smirk.

“Oh, wow.” Mutters the intrigued familiar.

“Precisely. The old fool was thrown off his horse because I told Philip, the horse, to throw him off. And he did. Which killed the idiot so I got the house and all of his money.”

“That’s......neat.” Mutters Guillermo as he shoots the camera crew from behind you and him a nervous look. “Uh the suns going down so I should probably help Nandor out of his coffin.”

Raising your head to the sky you immediately see how the sun has begun to paint the clouds in beautiful colors of oranges, reds, light pinks, and darkening purples. “Oh, how bout that. Yeah alright let’s get inside.” You nod to Guillermo before turning to walk towards the manor’s giant mahogany doors.

——

Turning the handle and walking a couple feet into the large main room that holds itself as a sort of crossroads for all the other various connecting hallways and staircases. You don’t make it even three more steps towards the left ascending staircase before you hear the highly recognizable voice of your one and only.

“Y/N! My lovely wife and favorite person still ever so lovely!” Announces Nandor loudly with a grand smile showing off his pearly white fangs, “How I have missed you and your morning kisses. Where have you been off to?” He wonders softly as you smile a big dumb love-struck grin right back up at him, you’d absolutely die to hear that accent one last time.

“I can’t tell you right now it’s a secret!” You whisper yell back, causing his thick dark brows to scrunch up in confusion.

“But I am your lovely strong puff dragon Y/N.” Whines Nandor adorably as you roll your eyes at the cameras before looking back up at him.

“Fine. Come here then.”

In an instant he’s at your side, excitedly awaiting what secretive news you will tell him, “Okay, so we know it’s Nadja’s birthday tomorrow right?”

“Yes. I remember because she hasn’t shut up about it.”

“Right. So me and Gullimero got some fun surprise birthday party decorations and they’re in the attic and we can’t tell Nadja.”

Nandor gives you a knowing look of affirmation as he leans in closer to you, his demeanor suddenly shifting into a more saddened one, “You went shopping without me?” He says quietly.

Leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek your hands instantly find his, “Just for a little while, but I still need to find more stuff so....you wanna come?”

Nandor’s big dark eyes light up with joy as you hand him a kind smile, “Yes! Let us go in search of unknown treasures for our lady friend Nadja so she will not be mad at us for terrible dull gifts of friendship.”

Laughing you give his hands a playful squeeze, “Come on I’ll race you to Party City!” You say before leading him past the camera crew and Guillermo who simply watches the two of you leave, glad to have an hour of peace.

“There’s a whole city for partying? Y/N why have we never been to this place?”

——

“Y/N there are no people partying here.” Whines your vampire lover in puzzlement as he follows you from the entrance to a side isle. “You said this was a city for partying.”

“That’s just the name of the store Nans.” You retort with a small chuckle as he looks from right to left at all the color coded party plates and napkins galore.

“Well the title is very misleading.”

“Agreed.”

Turning to the right you guide him towards the decretory pirate themed isle in search of something that will peak his interest. Also you wanted so badly to make it to this spot but Gullimero was a man on a mission so your intention was thwarted for when you had Nandor with you.

Speed walking down the pirate themed isle you quickly halt all movement as Nandor’s large body stops within less than an inch from your back. Smiling brightly you snatch the desired object in front of you and as swift as a cat turn to face him.

“Have you come for a dual my old enemy?” You speak slyly, eyes narrowed as you hold the foam sword right in front of his face. “I sense a nervousness about you. Tell me, are you ready to face your inevitable bloody end?”

Staring at the pointy foam, his dark puppy eyes shift over to you as an adorable fangy grin breaks out across his pale face, “Seems you have come prepared, oh radiant and alluring seductress. Well, so have I!” Shouts Nandor before grabbing two foam swords from off the rack and swinging them in both hands like a mad man.

Taking a cautious step back you hold your pathetic five dollar sword in both hands like a true warrior ready for battle, “Only one shall leave this place alive.” You affirm with a smirk, “And it’s not going to be you.”

“Arrrrrggg.” Bellows your lover as he charges you like the true conqueror that he once was. But all to soon do you swiftly duck under his arms and swat him over his stomach with a confident thwack sound.

He makes a puny little “oww” as you turn around to face him once again, “Y/N you hit me kind of hard.” He complains, looking rather defeated and genuinely hurt that you could have intentionally injured him on purpose.

Bringing the plastic weapon down to your side once again, your face suddenly softens as you walk over to him, “Come here you big baby.” You quip sincerely as he leans down so you can give his cheek a quick kiss.

Rising back to his full height, Nandor almost blushes as the corners of his eyes crinkle into a happy smile, “Actually it didn’t hurt at all I just wanted you to kiss me.” Reveals the vampire with a proud grin as you simply roll your eyes.

“Should have known.” You add before turning and snatching up four more plastic foam pirate swords for the others. “Alright let’s get outta here, follow me my love, to the checkout line we shall purchase our weapons of war and partying on the high seas.” You announce with gusto as Nandor stands proudly at your side, ready to follow you anywhere.

“Yes. To check out.”

——

Kicking open the unlocked door, Nandor bursts into the vampire residence with bags full of goodies for Nadja’s birthday party. You right behind him but less dramatically, “We’re back!” You shout to no one in particular as Colin Robinson suddenly appears from out of nowhere, looking ready to leave with his funny little hat and usual beige jacket.

“Oh hey guys,” He starts with a friendly nod, “I’m just heading out on the town tonight. I guess there’s a fair or something in the park and I wanted to test my skill at the ball toss. I’ve been reading up on the body mechanics and how the game is set up which seems pretty basic all in all. Also I really want to win a stuffed bear this time, it might add a little pizazz to my room. Welp see ya’round.” Adds Colin before walking past the two of you without another word and out into the night he goes with some of the camera crew following close behind.

Nandor turns to you with a look of annoyance, “Jeesh I thought he would never leave. Let’s go to your room I want to kiss you some more now.”

“Why my room?”

“Because since you are half vampire you get to sleep in a bed and because I am a full vampire I sleep in a coffin.” Inquires Nandor while looking at you with those big beautiful dark eyes of his, “And my coffin is too small for cuddles so your room will suffice.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point.” You shrug before following him to your room.

After many cuddles leading to other more rated R type activities that lasted until just about sunrise, you finally got some well needed rest while the sun shone high in the sky until she began her dramatic descend back into oblivion. Opening your eyes you slowly rise from out of your comfy bed, already missing the presence of your obsidian eyed lover.

He gets too nervous about your closed windows for fear that the sun might burn him which would be impossible because you black out the glass. But alas, he’s very cautious about these types of things and won’t risk it for anything, though he feels bad about leaving you in the morning, you understand.

Suddenly it dawns on you that today or perhaps tonight, is Nadja’s birthday and you completely forgot to set up any decorations. Shit, how stupid. Throwing the blankets off of you, your feet move quick as you speedily change yesterday’s outfit for something a bit nicer and more clean.

Racing out of your room and into the dimly lit manor hallway, you make a bee line for the attic but before you’re able to reach the steps, Guillermo runs into you, just about knocking you into a wall of various stolen ancient weapons. Sharp ones at that.

That was close.

“Y/N are you okay!” Worries the familiar as you quickly gather your bearings.

“Guillermo! The decorations! Nadja’s birthday!” You whisper yell as the human man simply smiles. “Why are you smiling, this situation does not call for smiles.”

“Don’t worry. While you were sleeping I set up all the decorations.” He replies with a shrug, “No problem.”

“What? But that must have taken you all day, you could have asked me for help. I would have come.” Your brows furrow as he shakes his head, though you still feel bad for not helping with anything.

“Well I did try, but um,” Gullimero awkwardly clears his throat, giving the camera a quick glance, “Nandor was with you and last time I asked for you while you and him where having alone time he threatened to carve out my eyeballs and force feed them to me.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance you take a deep breath, “Sounds like him. Very creative when he wants to be, alright, well....where’s everyone?”

“Oh, they’re not up yet. I was actually on my way to get you. I made blood popsicles and the pool floaty is all done and in the pond.” He says with a sense of pride for his decorating skills. “I think she’ll like what we’ve come up with this year.”

Standing in the living room with your three fellow immortals you search a dresser for her card, “Oh shit where’s my card? I could have sworn I had it yesterday on my dresser but I don’t remember seeing it there in the morning. Maybe it’s in this one?”

“Witches!” Hisses Nadja as you huff in frustration, where the hell did you put that damn card?

“Oh, Y/N my love,” Intervenes Nandor with a gentle tug of your sleeve, “I took it with me when I left your room before sunrise because I wanted to put my name on it too so she would know it’s from us.”

“What?” Replies Lazlo dramatically, “Now hold on just a damn minute, this card competition is individually scored so I won’t be having any of this nonsense. I worked really hard on mine this year.”

“Oh lick a donkey’s arse, look here,” You retort with, quickly holding up the card for Nadja, “there are two separate drawings on ours so either way if one of us wins she gets both our pictures. So you better hope your drawing doesn’t resemble a night clubs bathroom wall.”

“Yeah.” Mutters Nandor, who’s hiding behind you while resting both hands on either one of your shoulders as you glare at Lazlo.

“Fine.” Agrees Lazlo begrudgingly, “And mine will be amazing, this bitch of paper took me a whole six months to plan and produce. Can’t get quality this good anywhere else I guarantee it.” Adds Lazlo with a firm nod of self approval as you glance at the nearby camera.

“Right, okay everyone sit it’s time for presents. I want to know what you all got me.” Beams Nadja excitedly as she smiles a fangy grin in delight, plopping herself down in one of the arm chairs. Lazlo quickly finding the other one while you and Nandor seat yourself on the large couch. Colin and Guillermo finding somewhere to sit close by respectfully.

“Well, all I can say is hold onto your socks my dear cause this is going to blow you away.” Smirks Lazlo as he pulls a small box from out of his jacket pocket.

“If it’s a self made business card that says invitation to sexy town I will puke.” You deadpan while Nandor laughs from beside you, causing Lazlo to lose his smirk as Nadja hides her amusement the best she can manage.

“He he, sexy town, nice one Y/N.” Mutters Nandor with a proud grin as you raise a brow at Lazlo who’s giving you a hard glare.

“Oh, my dear pumpkin pie love, don’t listen to Y/N I will love anything you gift me.” Encourages Nadja with a bright welcoming smile, no doubt immediately boosting Lazlo’s once irked mood.

Rolling your eyes you shift a bit to find yourself leaning into Nandor’s body as Nadja opens up the rest of the vampire residents various gifts. A joyous fangy smile gracing her pale features every single time, revealing this birthday party was a thrilling success.

After much more fun that just about lasts throughout the whole night, and some rare but hilarious attempts at dancing between the five of you vampiric individuals. You’re feeling rather sleepy and you can tell Nandor is ready for a trip to dreamland as well.

Swaying to the lowly playing record instrumental, you hold Nandor tight while simultaneously enjoying the feeling of him so close, him doing just the same as he keeps you firmly pressed against his chest. His long dark hair tickles your face as he presses his head to your cheek, doing his absolute best to keep the flow without tripping up.

Sensing his growing fatigue, you gently squeeze his hand, “My love the sun will be up soon, let’s get you to bed, yes?”

A small lazy smile tugs at the corners of his lips while he looks down to meet your gaze, “But my dark angel I’m not tired. I want to dance with you a little longer.” He whines adorably before failing to conceal a big yawn.

Giggling, you lean back to slowly lead him towards the door, “That yawn says otherwise.”

“That wasn’t a yawn Y/N, I was just smiling really big.” He protests, though he still follows your lead to the door.

“I’ve never seen anyone smile like that.” You add with a raised brow.

“Well maybe that’s just how I smile.”

Letting out a breathy snort, you pull away from him to at last take his one hand, “Come. I can’t have a single ray of that dreaded sun to get a taste of your precious skin. Not on my watch.”

Glancing at the closed front door, Nandor squeezes your hand, “Well um, now since you’ve mentioned the sun...I think I’d like to go to my crypt now.” He says, the flash of worry crossing over his face for only a brief moment.

“You sure? I mean a sunrise is pretty beautiful if I’m being honest and I know you never get to see them...”

“Not funny Y/N. And not fair, you know I can’t because I am full vampire.”

“And you’re missing out.”

“And I’d like to stay alive Y/N.”

“Aren’t you dead?”

“Yes and I am your only husband so I need to stay not burnt to a crisp.”

Chuckling, you follow him down the hallway, “Oh really? Don’t want me finding myself with another vampiric lover? Some new beast to sweep me off my feet and take me away into the night.” You tease.

Side eyeing you, he frowns, “No. Don’t I sweep you off your feet?”

Stepping into his crypt you stop him with your hand against his bicep, “Always.” You whisper sincerely with a quick wink, causing him to break out into a big fangy grin.

“Good. And if anyone would try and whoo you I would make sure there would be no more whooing again!” Exclaims Nandor, making the candles rise in flame for only a short second at his rise in emotion for how much he loves you.

“I don’t doubt they would fall by your blade. Not for a second.”

#nandor the relentless #Nandor x reader #nandor x you #nandor x y/n #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows x reader #vampire fun yeah #love my big huggable vampire #:)

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hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Aggressive Affirmation

My first Elorcan fic, y'all. And it's smut.

It wasn't supposed to be smutty, but things escalated.

I'm not sorry.

Lorcan is sick and tired of Elide not acknowledging the incredible things that she has done. She doesn't give herself enough credit, doesn't see what she has to offer the home she hopes to rebuild. Lorcan encourages her to admit that she is intelligent, brave, and strong.

Read on AO3

Lorcan hadn’t even attempted to hide his wide grin when Elide had agreed to ride with him. It still surprised him that he could feel so carefree with her, so comfortable with letting his emotions dance across his features. But it was only for her. She had torn down every wall, crashed through every locked door, even faced death to earn his vulnerability. And he would pay it back in spades.

The midnight-haired beauty had rolled her eyes, still seemingly unaware of how her proximity to him could spark such an exuberant reaction. Lorcan found it difficult to understand how she didn’t presume she was the most incredible thing to have happened in the many years of his life, a strong woman in possession of near-bottomless bravery, fierce intelligence, and unbreakable dedication to the people and land she loved.

The journey would not be the longest they had together, though it would most certainly be the safest. Lorcan allowed himself to relax, as much as he could, and enjoy the feeling of the woman wrapped in his arms.

His wife.

The last time they had ridden like this he had been at death’s door, Elide urging the mount onward toward the keep at Anielle. What a relief it was to be with her now – to wrap his arms around her. As if to remind himself of what she felt like, his hand widened across her stomach, fingers stretching to feel as much of her as he could. Lorcan was pleased to find that her ribs were no longer so present below the tunic she wore, their time in Orynth slowly erasing the effects of months – perhaps years – of scarce food and near constant fear.

Soft strands, black as his own, brushed over his hands as he held Elide tighter against him. She turned her head, tilting her chin up to cast him a sidelong glance.

“What are you doing?” Her question was reflected in those fathomless eyes that he swore he could drown in. Lorcan grinned, dipping his chin to brush his lips over her forehead.

“Just thinking, wife,” he answered. “Of the last time we were on a horse like this, after you rode out into hell even when the mightiest of soldiers were retreating into that keep.” Elide’s lashes lowered as she looked away, as she often did when confronted with her own strength. “And how you thought up the plan that would defeat Erawan. And how you ran him through to keep him immobile so Yrene could finish him off.”

Silence was his only answer.

Lorcan sighed but let the quiet persist. His thumb traced back and forth over her abdomen, a motion that was meant to be soothing to her, but seemed to bring him comfort, as well. A spring breeze whispered past them, carrying the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves on the trees lining the road. And echoing louder than any of the sounds of their journey was his wife’s silence.

“Elide.”

She didn’t answer, but she turned her head again and traced her fingers over his forearm.

“What’s wrong?” he prodded.

“Nothing,” she murmured, even as he felt her tense against his chest.

“You lie,” Lorcan crooned. “I know you better than I used to, Elide. You may be the cunning liar that thawed my cold heart, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let it go. Tell me what’s bothering you.” His wife heaved a sigh, sagging into him.

“I am… anxious. About returning to Perranth,” she mumbled, turning her face forward again. His brows furrowed, lips pursing in confusion. Returning home, finding her queen, and rebuilding the city had been her aim as long as he’d known her – likely far longer.

“Tell me why.”

And just like that her back was straight again, shoulders tense, the small space between their bodies like a chasm. Lorcan’s eyes narrowed.

“Elide.”

Still she didn’t answer.

And judging from her reaction to his praise moments before, knowing her, Lorcan had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why she was hesitant. It grated against him, how little she thought of herself – how she refused to acknowledge her many feats of bravery and strength.

A snarl rumbled through his chest as he swung down from the saddle. He grabbed Elide before she had the chance to give a startled yelp and tossed her, gently, over his shoulder.

“Lorcan! What in the gods names are you doing?!” she shrieked. Ignoring her protest, he turned to their travel companions and dipped his chin.

“We’ll catch up,” he grumbled with a scowl before stalking off toward the tree line. This nonsense needed to end, sooner rather than later.

“Lorcan Lochan, you put me down this instant!”

His lips ticked up at his new surname, and he was glad she couldn’t see his amusement. He found a small clearing, a boulder jutting out of the grass. Schooling his features, he carried the still-grumbling woman to the rock, pulling her back over his shoulder and plopping her gently atop it.

“Why?” he demanded, eyes boring into her midnight pools that darkened with confusion. Lorcan released a frustrated sigh. “Why don’t you see your own worth, Elide?” He studied her with a frown as her eyes widened and her lips parted in a gasp.

“Lorcan?” she breathed. He ran a hand through hair that had become unruly in his less-than-graceful prowl into the woods. Then, taking a deep breath, he cupped her cheeks, allowing callused thumbs to graze over her high cheekbones.

“Do you think you’re strong, Elide?” Her eyes narrowed as she stared back at him, uncertainty painted across her pale features. Her answer, however, came quickly and assuredly – proof to the male that her belief was deep and unyielding.

“No.”

Lorcan flinched.

He lowered his gaze, doing all in his power to keep his breathing even. It was all he could do not to pace across the clearing in anger and frustration. “Elide-“

“I’m a cripple, Lorcan.” Her voice trembled slightly, and his eyes shot back to hers. They were hard. Uncompromising. As if her perceived weakness was just an unfortunate truth that she had come to terms with. Gods, it enraged him so – that she had practically been raised to believe that she had such little value. “I can barely walk, much less fight. I was a prisoner in my own home. For years. And after that I was little more than a slave. For ten years I was only allowed to live because someone else willed it. And in those ten years I did nothing for Perranth, for Terrasen. And what have I to offer now?” Lorcan cursed the shimmer of silver in her lashes as she pulled his hands away from her face and lowered her chin.

“I can’t even read, Lorcan,” she whispered wetly, her delicate hands clutching his. With a growl he pulled his hands away, fisting them in his hair as he, indeed, began stalking back and forth across the clearing. His ire was a living thing, writhing under his skin. What he would give to have her uncle in front of him now, so Lorcan could tear him apart like he deserved.

“Are you angry with me?”

The roaring in his head ceased in an instant, the timid question ringing clear as a bell through the heat boiling in his blood. He practically ran back to her, grabbing her face again.

“I’m not angry with you, love. Never. But it is absolutely infuriating that you believe it. That you have been made to believe it” Lorcan leaned pressed his forehead against hers. “You, Elide Lochan, are one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. I have fought beside fae and humans, men and women, the legendary and the ordinary. You are brave and strong and so incredibly clever.”

The lithe woman in his grasp opened her mouth to argue, but he pushed her chin back up.

“It…” He swallowed, realizing the vulnerability he was about to show. “It hurts me, Elide. When you just dismiss all the amazing things you’ve done. When you speak as if you have nothing to offer your queen, your home. When I found you, you were walking to Terrasen. And I have no doubt you would have made it. You picked up an axe against the Ilken. You rode out into the hell of Anielle in the face of certain death. You concocted the plan that defeated Erawan. Someone who is weak would not have done any of those things.”

Elide’s eyes bore into his, wide and shimmering. He leaned away, trailing his hands down her arms until he could link their fingers. Lorcan didn’t dare break that gaze, didn’t want to.

“Please. Please, try to acknowledge that. For me.”

“Well that’s not fair,” she laughed, tilting her head back. “Not when you put it that way.”

“I never said I would fight fair, wife,” Lorcan chuckled, then leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss, moaning when she immediately opened up to him. He explored her with his tongue – he would never get tired of her mouth on his.

Elide pulled back, breathing ragged. “We should probably get back,” she sighed. “They probably think we’re doing any number of questionable things.”

His large hands found her hips and tugged her to him, earning a startled giggle. “Well I would hate for them to be wrong.” He kissed her again, sliding his fingers below the band of her breeches. She gasped against his lips, and he snickered in response.

“Lorcan,” she hissed as his lips moved to her jaw, planting kisses up the sharp line. A murmured ‘mmmm’ was his only response as his fingers deftly unknotted the ties to her pants. “Lorcan, people will talk!”

“Let them talk.” His voice was like silk against the shell of her ear. “There is nothing wrong with a male wanting to pleasure his wife.” Elide’s hands fisted his hair, and he slid a hand between her legs to dip a finger into her. He felt her soft cry vibrate against his lips at her throat as his finger slid further, finding heat and wetness. “It would seem that your protests aren’t entirely heartfelt, Elide,” he purred against her neck, inserting a second finger.

“Oh Gods!” she panted. With a growl, he lifted his head and crushed his mouth over hers – a possessive, demanding kiss. He pistoned his fingers inside her, bringing the heels of his palm to rub against that sensitive bud. She mewled against his lips, and he pumped his fingers deeper as he swallowed every gasp and moan that lifted from her throat. Lorcan pulled back, watching Elide’s delicate flushed features lift and scrunch, reacting to the pleasure he was giving her. He wrapped his arm around her, supporting the small of her back with a hand that nearly spread the entire width of her body. When he brushed his callused thumb over that bundle of nerves, he felt her body tremor against him.

“How do you feel, wife?” he snickered, fingers never faltering. Her breathing became increasingly erratic, those little noises growing more frantic.

“Godsdammit,” she cried. He plunged his fingers as deep as they could go and held them there, then flicked his thumb across her again. Her hips bucked as she howled.

“If you want to cum, you will do as I say,” Lorcan growled, a feral grin spreading his lips. “Do you want to cum, Elide?” He wiggled his fingers inside her for emphasis.

“Yes! Gods, Lorcan,” she groaned. He started pumping inside her again, slowly and deliberately. He leaned in so his lips brushed right under her ear.

“Tell me that you are brave, Elide,” he crooned, continuing his ministrations.

“Wh-what?” Elide panted, pleasure and arousal clouding her comprehension of his request. He flicked his thumb over her again, her body convulsing.

“Tell. Me,” he demanded. He could feel her body shuddering around him, and he kept his rhythm slow and steady, drawing out her pleasure and forcing her to wait for her release.

“I- I’m brave!” Her voice cracked as her breath sawed in and out of her. “Lorcan!”

“Tell me you’re intelligent,” he murmured, pace increasing ever so slightly. Elide moaned, a guttural sound from her chest.

“I’m intelligent! Gods, please Lorcan,” she begged. Her fingers clung desperately to his shoulders, and he felt her trembling as she rode his hand.

“Tell me that you are strong, Elide.” His mouth dipped to the soft, sensitive skin below her ear, suckling there as he curled his fingers inside her. “Say it, love.”

“I- I… I am strong!” she gasped. Satisfaction rumbled through his chest. Her frantic pants surrounded him as he unleashed himself, long fingers pumping and thumb grinding into her most sensitive spot.

“Yes, you are. Now cum for me,” Lorcan groaned against her before lifting his head, watching his wife as she rode his fingers. A reverent smile graced his features as she finally found her release with a hoarse scream. Pulling her panting form against him he tucked her head under his chin, a hand stroking through her hair and over her back while he pulled his other hand away from between her thighs. “You are strong. You are beautiful. Perranth is lucky to have such a woman to lead them, and the world is fortunate that you saw fit to help save it. Never forget that.” He pressed his lips to her hair as he listened to her breathing return to normal.

“I love you, Lorcan Lochan.” Elide’s contented sigh vibrated against his chest, dainty fingers tracing soft paths over his stomach. How long had he lived, never knowing that happiness like this could exist for him?

“I love hearing that name. Knowing it’s mine.” Lorcan pushed her shoulders, gently pulling them apart so he could press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you, Elida Lochan.” Reaching down, he tightened the laces to her breeches. He knew the rest of the ride probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable, and he cursed inwardly that he had been so impatient that he hadn’t at least thought that it would be better to just take them off. “We’ll find an inn tonight. Get you a proper bath. Get these clothes washed.”

A dusting of pink colored her cheeks, realization of why she would need those things heating her face. Lorcan chuckled and stood, letting a hand graze her jaw and tuck a lock of onyx silk behind her ear. “Come, wife,” he declared as he swept her up in his arms, cradling Elide against him as he started walking toward the road. She giggled, winding her arms around his neck and craning to plant a kiss on his cheek. Lorcan smiled down at her, grateful for the path that had led him to her. Grateful that their futures were forever intertwined.

“Let’s get you home, Lady of Perranth.”

Tag list: @tealnymph-writes @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @positivewitch @tanvee1231 @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @katiebellf @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430

*NOTE* I used the tag list that I have used for all my other fanfic posts, but those have all been ACOTAR. If you would like to not be tagged in Throne of Glass or From Blood and Ash posts, please let me know. Otherwise, I will continue to use the same tag list for all of my fanfic posts!

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #elorcan #Elorcan fanfiction #Elorcan smut #lorcan salvaterre #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #ao3 #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

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pennylanefics · 3 years

Text

Space Heater - Theo Raeken

a/n: this was supposed to be a small fic about playing with theo’s hair, but it turned into more.

*gif is not mine, credits go to the owner*

•••

“God, it feels so good to shower,” Theo sighs as he walks into your room. You smile and admire his exhausted figure. You found out he was practically homeless after being brought back from the ground, so you invited him to stay with you.

The two of you had never been really close, but you were the one to convince the pack to bring him back, hearing his cries of pain and cries for help. As much as you didn’t think he was a good guy, you could tell he regretted what he did. And the fact that he didn’t ask any of the pack if he could stay with them proved he was back to help and not take advantage.

“Yeah, you look a lot more comfortable.” He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair.

“My hair was getting so greasy and gross, it feels so much better. And I don’t have to rely on cologne anymore.”

“Yeah, I think everyone is thankful for that,” you giggle. Theo smiles and stands in your room awkwardly.

“Oh, uh, I came in to ask if you have an extra pillow? I would use mine but it’s kind of flat.” You nod and stand up, walking with him to the hall closet to give him one.

“If you need anything else, just let me know,” you tell him.

Before you can walk into your room, he grabs your hand gently and gives you a thankful smile.

“I really appreciate you letting me stay here. I know bringing me into your home probably isn’t what you wanted, but I am really grateful you were willing to.” His voice is soft and serious, and in that moment, all of your thoughts and assumptions about him went out the window.

“Of course, Theo. you’re still human, er, well…” you both share a laugh at your slight misstep, but he understands.

“You deserve a roof over your head, a shower, a warm bed, and food. I wasn’t going to keep you from that if I have the room for you.” He starts to respond, but opts to remain quiet.

Instead, he just silently backs into his room and shuts the door. You do the same, hopping into bed after a long day and falling asleep quickly.

Around 2:15 in the morning, you were awoken by wind against the house, then the incoming rain, thunder, and lightning followed. Seeing as you couldn’t get back to sleep after ten minutes, you head downstairs to get a glass of water.

As you were walking through the kitchen threshold, you bump into Theo.

“Oh, sorry,” you gasp, knocking into his chest. He grins and shakes his head.

“Are you alright?” You wonder. He glances down at his water.

“Uh, just came down to get a drink.” You could tell he was lying, and in this moment, you wished you could hear heartbeats. His slightly shaky hands and ragged breathing gave everything away.

“Hang on a moment. Let me get some water for myself and then let’s head upstairs.” He nods and stands there, watching you move around the kitchen swiftly. When your glass is full, you motion for him to follow you upstairs.

He is about to go back into his room, but you catch his wrist and nod your head in the direction of yours. You turn the light on just to make it a little warmer and brighter to contrast the storm outside.

“Come here,” you whisper, crawling into bed. Theo hesitates for a moment, but when a particularly loud gust of wind shakes the house, he is quick to join you, but still keeping his space.

“Did the storm wake you up?” You ask.

“Yeah. Usually I'm not phased by them, but when I was underground, they...they w-were, uh…”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to continue.” He inhales and exhales deeply.

“What's your favorite letter in the word monday?” You randomly ask. Theo is slightly taken aback by the odd question. He laughs a little, feeling the anxiety fade away a little.

“My favorite letter in the word monday?”

“Yeah. Like my favorite is the ‘y’ because it ends the word and just gives it a nice little ring.” He is silent for a moment, thinking over it probably too much.

“I’d say the ‘o’. It’s not the first, but it is an important letter.” He pauses. “What’s with the weird ass question?”

“I just figured you needed something to take your mind off of things. So why not throw an incredibly random and nonsense question at you.”

“Well thank you. It definitely helped and I thought too much about that question. And now I’m going to be thinking about what my favorite letter in every word is.” You giggle and rest your hand on his bicep.

You both were laying on your sides, facing one another. He stares right at you, his mind racing.

“You know, you’re the last person I expected to help me come back,” he whispers. “I always thought you hated me.”

“I did,” you admit. “But hearing your painful screams and cries for help, I could tell you changed. I had a feeling that you’ve changed as a person.”

“I have. And I can’t thank you enough for convincing everyone to bring me back.” Suddenly, a loud boom of thunder roars in the sky after a bright flash of lightning. The lights in your room flicker then turn off completely.

“Was that the power?” He wonders, sitting up.

“Yeah, I think so,” you sigh. Theo falls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“You know, I’ve always thought you were cute,” he murmurs after a few minutes. “But Stiles warned me to not get close to you.”

You giggle and gaze up at him, admiring his features that were illuminated by the streetlight shining through your window.

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. If I were to ever get close to you, he would disown me as a friend. When I told him that I thought you were cute as well, he flipped.”

“Has he always been so protective of you?”

“Yeah, since we all got involved with the supernatural world. He said he didn’t want to see me go through what Scott went through, that he can’t lose another friend.”

“I never wanted to see you hurt either. You were the only person I truly cared for since we met. And I know you hated me, and I understand that. But now, I want you to know that I’ve always had feelings for you.” A smile slowly appears on your lips and you scoot closer to him.

Theo follows you and goes back to laying on his side, but he cuddles extremely close to you, his face falling into your neck. You are confused and a little bit surprised at his sudden action. To make things more comfortable, you turn into your back and Theo cuddles up beside you.

“You’re like a space heater,” you whisper, throwing the cover around your bodies to trap the heat in. Since the power went out, it was starting to get chillier in the room, so having him close to you was great.

“One good thing about being a chimera. Unlimited body heat.”

He peppers gentle kisses to your skin, making your face heat up at the feel of it. Absentmindedly, your hand behind his back comes up to play with his long hair. You thread your fingers through it, the silky strands falling between your digits.

“Damn, your hair really is soft,” you tell him. He chuckles and lifts his head to kiss your cheek.

“It’s a good thing I washed it then because it was not so soft before.” You giggle and turn on your side again, snuggling into his chest for even more warmth. He takes this hint and wraps his arms around your body.

But since you couldn’t help yourself, you sneak your hand back up to his hair and mess with it lazily. Theo smiles and closes his eyes, content with the current situation.

“Would you like to lay on my chest to play with my hair instead?” He offers. “In a more comfortable position.”

“No, I’m pretty comfortable and much warmer here,” you respond. Theo laughs and shakes his head, readjusting himself just a little to match your position. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, and his face was now buried in your hair.

“So, are you going to be gone in the morning, or are you planning on staying?” You ask him hesitantly. Theo kisses your head a couple times and pulls back a little to look down at you.

“I was hoping I could stay and we could, maybe, get to know each other better? Maybe I could show you that I’m not entirely the worst person.”

“I was hoping you would stay, honestly,” you chuckle. “And no need to show me. It’s the reason I convinced everyone to bring you back.” Theo grins and nods, reaching between you to hold your hands.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know I’ve said it a lot, but seriously. It means so much to me.”

“Of course, Theo,” you whisper back, stroking his cheek.

His eyes dart between your eyes and lips, and you take the hint right away. You reach up and kiss him as soft as ever, but he takes it into his own hands to deepen it slightly.

It lasts for a few seconds, longer than you expected, but you didn’t mind. When Theo pulls away, you catch your breath for a moment before kissing him again. You’ve imagined this moment since you first met him, back when he first arrived in Beacon Hills for senior year.

You break the kiss to yawn, exhaustion taking over you.

“Should I go back to my room and let you sleep?” He wonders. You shake your head and before he can get up, you tug his arm to make him stay.

“The power is still out, and I need my space heater,” you shyly say.

“Alright, I guess I can stay,” he jokingly responds. He had no intentions to leave nor did he want to, so he was really hoping you would make him stay. Which you did.

“Is that all you see me as now? A space heater?” He asks. You giggle in response and snuggle into his chest.

“No. You’re a pretty great cuddles as well.”

#theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken imagine #cody christian #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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