#// anyways. i'm going to Focus on this and reach out to folks that write any of the above characters because i Hurt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

singlecrow · 1 year ago

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For the fic meme! Any of these that you feel like answering I'd love to hear about! I saw in an earlier ask that one of your 'guilty pleasures' is miserable h/c and also I know you love your AUs so I'm following up on those by asking:

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

and

L: What’s the weirdest AU you’ve ever come up with?

and I swear I didn't just go down the alphabet in order on purpose but I'd also be very curious to know:

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Hi Rosie! thank you for these excellent questions I like them a lot!

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

I tend to dither about angsty ideas and then go ahead and write them anyway. The angstiest story I have ever written (in modern times? I was much worse about this when I first started writing fic) is Samhain (when you hear the river rising). Hawkeye, in that one, turns out to (maybe?) be escaping within his mind from a horrible abusive reality. It's meant to be a scary story, but it came down on the angst as well as creepy sides. There's also a couple of apocalyse AUs in various fandoms, and this odd dystopian MASH AU though the notes say I wrote it for a friend so maybe it wasn't entirely my idea!

One thing I don't do even in angsty stories, though, is violence against women. It's a conscious decision which I've always stuck to. I'm not sure why that's different, but it feels like it.

Also, I am way in my Murderbot feels and I don't think that's a fandom you and I share but I hope you'll forgive me for manifesting an idea that is lingering at the back of my mind that I don't want to write! really don't! but is sticking with me anyway.

For the Murderbot folk then: on this reread I've been wondering about the canon divergence AU where Murderbot doesn't have the hacked governor module on the first PreservationAux survey. Everything goes wrong similarly, but without it, the PresAux gang don't escape. But, Mensah can't be killed by GreyCris because killing a major political leader will start a full-on war.

So this is a cheerful story that starts with Murderbot killing the rest of PresAux and then standing guard over Mensah while the corporates try and negotiate with her as a hostage. BUT. as we know, the governor module doesn't change an individual's personality, only their means of expressing it. So it's had the same experiences. it still loves her, it still wants to save her, it just... can't. And she has no idea that it's even a person rather than a faceless killing machine.

The thing is, I think this is a good story! That idea of a prisoner and a captive, Mensah as prisoner in body and Murderbot as prisoner in mind. But, ah. Angst. Maybe.

L: What’s the weirdest AU you’ve ever come up with?

Definitely the roller derby AU. And, I don't know if you'd call it an AU, but triple shot and extra hot raises the important question of what would happen if Starbucks opened an establishment on Deep Space Nine. What I like about that one is it absolutely follows the premise to its logical conclusion. Someone in the comments was like, I thought this was a joke and it was just a series of vignettes of various characters meeting in a cafe but no it's actual Starbucks on actual DS9. I was very proud of myself.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I am trying to focus on my other work right now so don't have anything fanficcish that I'm working on (except my little project for your exchange). But I'm still really fascinated by the cis girl Hawkeye idea and I've actually got about 2000w of it stowed away. Here is a bit.

“Here,” BJ says, throwing Hawkeye a spare blanket. “Our stove unionised a couple of days back. Better to just wrap up before it goes out.”

Hawkeye grabs it. “Who are you writing to, your wife?”

“Yeah.” BJ pauses, then reaches behind him for another letter, with every inch covered with dense, narrow script. “Listen, what do you think that says?”

Hawkeye follows his pointing finger. “I’m taking Erin to Mom and Dad for a week,” she reads. “That way she’ll get some experience of— huh. Your wife is taking your kid to your in-laws for dysentery?“

“I thought diabetes,” BJ says. “Potter thought dressmaking.”

“Dystonia,” Hawkeye says thoughtfully. “Dreams. Dracula.”

“It’s definitely not a capital D,” BJ says. “Which is of course the only reason my wife isn’t taking my daughter to Ohio to meet the king of the vampires."

Hawkeye laughs. It’s warm in here, despite the stove withdrawing its labour, and she’s starting to relax a little as the nightmare lifts. “You settling in okay around here, then?” she asks. “I remember my first few weeks. They were brutal.”

“Yeah,” BJ says, holding up his hands. He’s looking at Hawkeye like he’s never seen her before: Hawkeye in bathrobe over pyjamas and sweatshirt. Hawkeye is average height for a woman, which makes her about a foot shorter than BJ, and keeps her hair tied back in plaits. She never eats enough because the food here tastes like used sanitary napkins, so she’s slighter and more angular than she was in civilian life. She knows that if she hadn’t met BJ off the transport plane; if she hadn’t been driven him across hostile country for forty miles while being shot at, he would think she was fragile.

“Hey,” BJ says gently. “How’d you end up doing this? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Hawkeye tilts her head. “If you mean, how does a woman end up doing this, then that’s what you should say.”

“You.” BJ is stubborn. “I figure, you and I are going to be working together a while. Why shouldn’t we get to know each other?”

“You’ve just got a ‘satiable curiosity, haven’t you, Dr Hunnicutt?” Hawkeye murmurs, worrying the frayed edge of her sleeve between two fingers.

“I have to,” BJ says. “Not like there’s much else to do, here on the banks of the great grey-green greasy Limpopo.”

So I would like to finish that! But it has a plot and stuff, which I don't have time for right now. In due course.

#mash #murderbot

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fereldanwench · 1 year ago

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How does your V feel about River. I just did a playthrough where my own V was crushing after someone else (Takemura) and that whole scene with the kids wanting her and River to get together made both me and my V wanna curl up in a ball and die from how awkward it was. Just curious as to your own feelings on River.

Ahhhhh, so I was writing a very long answer, and then Tumblr just wiped it on me. 😭 Thanks, Tumblr.

ANYWAY, River's romance wasn't for me or Valerie. 😅

I'm gonna put the rest under a cut in case anyone wants to avoid River critical opinions, and I really want to stress that this is just my preference. I'm not trying to convince anyone not to like their boy--I actually liked River outside of his romance, and I genuinely enjoy other folks' River ships. I also think a lot of my issues with the romance can be chalked up to neglect from the devs. But playing through it was nevertheless a minefield of squicks for me.

From Valerie's perspective, she basically saw River as a decent, principled guy while they were working together on the Rhyne/Peralez investigation, but thought their relationship, working or otherwise, would be concluded when they wrapped that up. She admires that he wants to stick to his convictions and go to IA with the corruption, but she is a much more cynical person when it comes to the powers that be, and he doesn't respond overly fondly when she says such.

So Valerie is very surprised when he reaches out for help with Randy, and she assumes it's totally out of desperation rather than any interest in her personally. Johnny, of course, picks up on it, which she sort of brushes off, but when River starts saying things like "I'll tell you about it over a beer sometime," she does get the sense that maybe he's interested in more than just her professional help.

By this point, though, Valerie is smitten with Goro. She's denying it to herself, and trying to keep her focus on the Relic and fixing her terminal condition (which River doesn't even know about), but either way: she has no interest in pursuing anything romantic or sexual with River.

She does help River with Randy, because despite any awkwardness she feels around River, she's not gonna let a kid potentially die because of it. But again, when they part ways, Valerie thinks that's that. So when he calls later, telling her that he misses her and inviting her to family dinners, Valerie is immediately like hey, buddy, don't do this.

I think the most in-character thing for her would be to not go to the dinner and just wish him well on the phone call, but since the game won't let you close out the quest without making an appearance, I made her suffer through the world's most awkward family meet-n-greet.

Valerie doesn't dislike kids, but she's not overly keen on them either, particularly those who aren't related to her, so playing with them and a man she's trying to let down gently is incredibly uncomfortable. She also doesn't particularly appreciate the way Joss probes into her family life or plans for a family life, and when the kids do the "raise your hand if you think River and V would be a good couple," Valerie has pretty much fuckin' had it.

And then, when they're chatting up on the water tank, Valerie is frustrated that River implies she's been stringing him along when she's tried as nicely as possible to tell him she's not interested. She's also sober and the daughter of an addict who lost her life to drugs and alcohol, so she does not find his "I can be awfully charming when drunk" comment endearing at all.

So, after all is said and done, Valerie doesn't really want anything to do with River anymore. She might be willing to help him professionally again, and she's still friendly with him, but she doesn't think of him as a friend.

As for my personal opinion on the romance, I think it was just incredibly underdeveloped (especially compared to the ladies), and that lack of development paired with the fact that he's the only male romance option available to female Vs ends up having a lot of frustrating and troubling implications.

It does kind of feel like CDPR made a very bold assumption that what women who are attracted to men want in a relationship is something that is heavily centered around family and children. As a woman who does not like that in real life or fiction and often has to defend my own child-free relationship, I found that very off-putting. And this isn't to say that it shouldn't exist at all--I fully support anyone who does enjoy this take on a romance, and I'm glad they got to have something they enjoyed--I just really wish it wasn't the only option.

I also don't like that there's no way to reject him without subjecting yourself to the awkward family dinner. It makes him feel very pushy if you're not into him, which I feel probably isn't the intent. I'm sure some folks would take the stance that it's more realistic, but I'm okay with forgoing a little realism if it means I don't have to have the uncomfortably immersive experience of telling a man I'm not into him while we're sitting atop a water tower and he's getting drunk. 😬😬😬

I also really disliked both his and V's responses if you chose the "ever feel lonely?" prompt, which I talked about here.

But the Peralez/Rhyne mission with him is actually one of my favorites in the game, and if his story had stayed more in that route, like fighting the corruption in the NCPD, I probably would have enjoyed him overall a lot more.

And if I remember correctly, Goro's creation also ended up affecting how River was utilized in the story--I think he was supposed to have a bigger role in some of the corporate happenings, but the writers realized they wanted someone deep inside Arasaka instead, hence Goro. Well, first it was going to be a more villainess lady character, and then it became Goro because they wanted to humanize Arasaka more.

So yeah. Those are my complicated thoughts on River. I mean, from the in-character perspective, it's pretty straightforward, but my own opinions on him are kind of ambivalent.

#t: wench replies #g: cyberpunk 2077 #oc: valerie v powell #c: river ward #river ward critical

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clotpolesonly · 10 months ago

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So, I started a cleaning job where I don't have to talk to anyone, which is lovely, but it also meant I started listening to audiobooks, and I've started listening to some book series I've been hearing about here and there, and the latest was The Raven Cycle. Why? Because you posted about it. You are literally the only person on my dashboard to post about it, but the few ones I have seen over the last months? years? have been enough for me to be assured in it having queer rep, being well written, and potentially worth my time. And yeah, it very much was, cause now I'm kinda hooked on it, like not just Adam/Ronan, tho very much them as well, but Maggie even got me caring about a straight couple with Gansey/Blue, cause she just writes such beautiful and unique characters!!! And anyway, besides asking you if you have some favourite AO3 recs (Don't even care much about the ship, as long as it's with these characters) I come having finished The Raven King a week ago, and now humbly but also very desperately asking, do you have any other book recommendations like TRC for me to listen to?? (Oh, and maybe also whether or not the dreamer triology will be just as good? Cause I'm curious about it having Ronan in focus, but more than the story, it's the characters that got me hooked on TRC, and like Maggie Stiefvater's writing style, but yeah I'm unsure how much of Adam there is in the trilogy, and the new characters, are they just as intriguing??)

YESSSSSS I LOVE SNAGGING PEOPLE AND DRAGGING THEM INTO MY FANDOMS XD WELCOME

the Dreamer Trilogy has its pros and its cons. if does significantly shift the focus of the narrative away from the established group, so if the Gangsey found family dynamic is a really big factor in your enjoyment and you don't want to be without it, you'll be disappointed by TDT because the rest of the gang simply isn't present 😭 it's very much Lynch-(and new characters)-focused.

Ronan is the main character and gets the most screen time, but honestly, Declan steals the show in that series. people can go into TDT Declan haters and come out of it with rabid Declan brain rot afdkjgh, i for one am obsessed with him. Matthew gets a real arc too, which i love for him. Adam doesn't have a huge role but he is around and relevant. i am IN LOVE with some of the new characters, and Maggie got us again with the straights!!! she makes us fucking YEARN WITH THE STRAIGHTS, on par with Bluesey imo, the new canon ship destroys me ok??

i will say that TDT doesn't feel as cohesive and satisfying in the overall narrative structure sense, compared to TRC. there are some things about it that confuse/frustrate me or don't make sense if you look at it too closely 😅 but there's so much really interesting compelling character/relationship work that it makes up for it, for me. i enjoyed TDT a lot, have read it multiple times, and will definitely read it again. it expands upon the world and lore, and i'm a sluuuut for complicated dysfunctional family dynamics so the Lynches get me good.

as for other recs! in case my unrelenting TRC blogging isn't damning enough evidence, i'll admit openly that i tend to just read the same thing over and over again instead of reading anything new lfkdjgh, so i don't actually HAVE anything else to rec myself, i am useless to you 😅😅😅 so instead i reached out to some other fans on discord and got suggestions from them to share with you!

The Scorpio Races (also Maggie Stiefvater)

The Wicker King (K Ancrum)

Aristotle & Dante (Benjamin Alire Saenz)

A Darker Shade of Magic (VE Schwab)

Iron Widow (Xiran Jay Zhao)

In Other Lands (Sarah Rees Brennan)

Hell Followed With Us (Andrew Joseph White)

The Darkest Part of The Forest (Holly Black)

All Of Us Villains duology (Amanda Foody, CL Herman)

Self Made Boys (Anna Marie Mclemore)

Legendborn (Tracy Deonn)

Folk of the Air series (Holly Black)

Six of Crows duology (Leigh Bardugo)

Winternight trilogy (Katherine Arden)

Gideon the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir)

The Atlas Six (Olivie Blake)

so, again, i have not personally read any of these books to make the recs more specific or say what part of them invokes TRC vibes, but it sure is a place to start?? 😂

for fic recs, oh god, my brain is SWISS CHEESE, let's see if i can remember and dig up anything aldkfjg

(ok first i rec my own fics #shameless self promo)

Magnetic i've read SO MUCH and will again, it's everything to me

don't it beat a slow dance to death is a timeloop thing A+

I'm an Empathetic Drunk, Ok? is the first long TRC fic i read i think

All That I Know is Gone has dreamer!Declan, obsessed with this

King by the Roadside Gansey-didn't-die-the-first-time + polyam

A Sound Of Thunder Declan died instead of Niall 😭😭

aaaaaand these are the ones that are coming to my mind as of right now, the first 3 are all Pynch. i think the 4th has Pynch but it's mostly brother feels - that one introduces some elements from TDT but i don't thiiiiiink anything that would be a significant spoiler as long as you've read the short story Opal, which was included in my physical copy of TRK if it wasn't in yours, i have the epub). could hold off on that one until you (maybe) read TDT (if you wanna), but i've read it too many times not to rec it. 5th one hooks up the whole gang in one big polycule and i love it for that, and the last one hurts my HEART as a Declan stan but it's otherwise a great fic 😂

anybody else with TRC recs, add on/reply/hit @so-very-asleep up with 'em!!!

#and the answer is #so-very-asleep #TRC #TDT

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subliminalbo · 2 years ago

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Content Warnings and Other Useful Information

Oh hi there, welcome to my blog! If you're following me then you already know what to expect here. That's my bad! I should have posted this a long time ago. The way I see it, the content warning pinned to the top of my blog is simply meant to be a quick and informational warning for anyone just stumbling in here who doesn't want to see this shit. I tried to hide my homepage behind a physical warning message that you'd have to click out of to continue, but I couldn't get it to just show up on the homepage alone so here we are.

First, Some More About The Content Here

This is a hypnokink blog. All of the stories published on this page feature some form of mind control and, given the nature of the fetish, non-consensual sex in these stories is common. I've included this on the sticky for my page because it's the most common trigger warning present and is probably fair to expect in any of these stories.

I do label individual posts if they feature less frequent trigger warnings such as suicide. If there's any content that you feel I've failed to label, please reach out to me and I'll update accordingly.

That being said, I'm going to shift to the kind of content that I will not write, because I think it's easier than guessing at what kind of content could show up in my stories.

I focus primarily on fantasy and science fiction forms of mind control, I do not write stories that can occur in reality. This means that a character will never fall into a trance from a drink spiked with "hypno potion" or something.

This may be an odd distinction to make, but it's related to the first point. I will never write non-consensual sex outside of a mind control scene. It's all non-consensual, but that's a different kind of kink that I do not want to explore.

I do not write celebrity fanfiction. All characters featured in the various series on this blog are fictional.

I don't censor much of my language at all, but I will not use the feminine c-word. It's unpleasant and I do not like reading it in my hypno porn captions.

I don't practice real-life hypnosis and have no interest in doing so. I will never share images, gifs, sound files, or videos with the purpose of triggering someone.

Additionally, I will never ask for acts of obedience such as reblogs and copy/paste mantras. Shit's corny at best, predatory at its worst.

Some More About Interactions

I like interacting! I'm very big into writing as a collaborative process and I do my best work when I'm bouncing ideas off of people. It's also just nice to know when people are reading, following plots, and generally enjoying what I put out here. That being said, this is an adults only blog and I will not interact with folks who do not have an age listed on their profile.*

Of course, feel free to reach out to me if you do. I might even feel inclined to write more of your favorite series if I feel like that's what people want. I suck like that, I guess.

I don't get a ton into politics in my hypnokink space, but I am a proud member of the DSA and moving further left every day. It's not necessarily an automatic DNI if you're a conservative but I will not tolerate or interact with blogs that share transphobic, homophobic, racist, or other bigoted content or opinions. If you're one of those dudes who does caption manips of female politicians "put in their places" you can just fuck right off, my guy.

There's a lot of, by design, morally objectionable material in this community, so it's important for me to be a positive force outside of these stories. I enjoy your comments, but I do not interact with creepy shit. I don't want to know what you would do if Barbara Palvin was your slave.

I do take requests, but I require that you have your age in your blog. I also reserve the right to refuse any request and to stop taking requests if I just don't want to do them anymore.

Anyway, defund the police, pro-choice, health care is a human right, something about how the military dehumanizes children I don't really have a pithy slogan for this belief I just think it really sucks that we celebrate when an eighteen year old child signs up, and also I DNI with TERFS, though I feel like there's not a lot of crossover.

Some More About Using My Stuff

The short of it is I don't really care what you do with my manips. I obviously didn't take the pictures so I don't claim ownership of anything related to the manips. If you reuse something, just let me know, I literally do not care, unless it's being used for the aforementioned creepy shit.

Generally I don't mind if you caption a reblog. Again, the creepy shit rule applies.

Most of the characters featured in the Romero canon are my own, with a few exceptions that I will note when relevant. I do not role play, but if you're interested in writing something in Romero let me know. I'll be happy to bounce ideas and will even help edit if you'd like. I have an English degree and I like using it.

Just don't ask me to finish your hypno fanfiction for you THIS IS A THING THAT HAS HAPPENED MULTIPLE TIMES TO ME DON'T FUCKING DO IT Y'ALL THIS IS WHY I CLOSE REQUESTS

*I'll likely make an exception if you followed me from Deviantart and have your age listed on your profile there, but you should really add your age to your Tumblr.

#subliminalbo

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demonslayedher · 3 years ago

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I lost a bet to myself and paid the price by making another demon sibling AU. Was originally just going to be headcanons and doodles, but I wound up writing the parts I felt like. The names of Tengen's siblings are entirely made up. This will come in two parts due to length.

Clicking each bone in his spine, Yogen stood to his full height, taller than Tengen remembered. It wasn't uncommon to go long periods of time without seeing his siblings when they were on their own missions, but Yogen shouldn't had changed that much. "I'll spare you. It wouldn't do for the Uzui clan not to have a head. Now you're the strongest one."

"...Yogen..."

"I wouldn't had been able to take you on, if not for the fact that you'd never have done it if you knew. You should thank me, Aniki. You know what I've spared you? Father was going to make us all have a fight to the death. You'd have done at least half of this."

"What have you done!?"

"I ate them," he laughed, something Tengen had never heard Yogen do in his adult voice. He had the most infectious laugh when they were children, and this rang with the same pleasure, however dissonant. "I was stunned too, at first. When I came to, I had eaten two of them, they were still warm in my mouth, their cells already nourishing mine. But you know what? I decided to eat the others. I was going to kill them anyway, what difference does it make that I should eat them?"

Tengen's face pearled back into a snarl, his eyes flaring.

"One, two, three... Eizen got away before I could bite him, though. That whelp would had done nothing for me. The one I really wanted to eat was the strongest," he said, his glowing white eyes shifting down to their father's fresh corpse. "And now, even he's nothing to me."

Tengen could stand no more of this. "Yogen!!" he screamed and gripped one of the swords at his back, and charged at Yogen all in one motion. A hard sickle burst out of the flesh of Yogen's arm and caught it, but when Tengen pulled his other sword down through Yogen's shoulder and chest, the sound of ripping sinews what different than it should had been. A look over to the injury revealed that the shoulder was repairing itself before Tengen's eyes. When had he learned any technique like that?

The momentary lapse in focus caught him, Yogen swiped up against Tengen's forearm. It felt too varied to had been spiked knuckles--those were his fingertips, he had grown claws. Tengen drew a sword up to lop off Yogen's forearm, and then his brother let out a shrill scream as his features lit up and revealed how contorted they had become. Yogen didn't look human anymore with how his veins bulged and burned. Burned? From what? Tengen took a look over his shoulder to the sun rising and casting light through the wide open door, and when he looked back, Yogen was gone.

---

Tengen watched the flames consume the house and the bodies of his slain family. He had combed it for any trace of Yogen, but his brother left none. Hope though he did that the flames may consume Yogen too, he knew in his gut that he was still out there.

Behind him, Suma sneezed in a gust of smoke that wafted into her face. Hinatsuru handed her a handkerchief, as she and Makio were already covering their faces in case of poison. Tengen didn't bother, he was resistent to most ninja poisons, and the scratches down his forearm were already less swollen. "You three should go back to your homes."

"No!" insisted Suma.

"We're already members of the Uzui clan," said Hinatsuru.

"Your revenge is ours," added Makio.

Hinatsuru made the most important point, they were already seen as his property. He could hear whispers and feel them all being watched; the other ninja clans knew what had befallen the most powerful family, and the Uzui name was now shunned. Even if Tengen wanted to stay, he had no place in the village, and neither did anything that belonged to him. The only thing left for him now was to track his brother down and drag him to hell.

Someone else was approaching, and Tengen reached for one sword. Uneven footsteps. One didn't have the splat of a foot, it was the thunk of wood--a cane, or two canes? A leisurely, but determined pace. Self-assuredness, even for entering ninja territory. A robust heartbeat. Who was coming?

"Well, is that what you all look like? I feel like I've wandered into one of those storybooks," said an old man. He had one missing leg, a full head of hair and moustache to rival it, a grin, and a telltale scar lining the underside of his left eye. "I had always left your kind alone, but I couldn't when I felt the presence of a demon over here."

"Who are you?" Tengen asked, stetching one arm before his wives while the other hand stayed at his weapon.

"You didn't chop its head off, did you, ninja boy? It's long gone by now, you know. It'll hide from daylight. Be even more trouble to find if it's one of your folk."

"How do you know about us?" Makio shot back.

"How do you children not know about demons? Aye," the old man huffed to himself as he set down a stool he carried. He planted his rump on it, then folded his arms. "The name's Kuwajima Jigoro, former Roaring Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corp. I figured this would be out of your expertise, so I've come to help."

Tengen felt in his gut he could trust that. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, his wives all doing likewise behind him. Jigoro seemed to enjoy that, but insisted they do not. Instead of bowing, he'd appreciate the ladies rubbing his shoulders to display their gratitude, he said.

While Hinatsuru and Makio set about at each arm, Suma kneeled at his remaining foot with a gasp. "Aren't old people not supposed to be this beefy?"

"Can it, Suma!" chided Makio.

Hinatsuru said nothing, but could feel something was different in this man, not only in his physique. Whatever he had to say was going to change their lives more than the previous night already had. They all listened carefully as Jigoro orated about the existence of demons, how they eat humans, how they are near impossible to kill, but also the methods of those who hunt them, with specialized blades and an organization to support them. As he began describing Breath, however, Tengen stopped him. "I already know all that, that's ninjutsu basics. That's not giving me anything I don’t already have."

"Oh? I figured as much. Always made me curious about you pups. So you you've got the basics of Breath technique, huh?"

"It's beyond basic," he shot him an annoyed frown.

"I'll be the judge of that. See that tree over there? That's probably about the strength of the usual demon neck. Go hog wild on it." As much as showing off was against the ninja code, Tengen wasn't in the mood to argue and made short work of that tree, the only sound being the pop of it seperating into two halves. Jigoro gave him a clap, then stood with his cane. "Good accuracy. Spot on. Now you pick one out for me. Take some mercy, though, I'm only working at half-strength." He balanced on his foot and his peg, plopping the end of his cane in his palm to show off that he meant to use it in place of a sword. Tengen hated when other people tried to be show-offs, so he pointed to a tree a few rings thicker than the one he had cut.

The old man eyed it, then slid his good foot through the dirt, and as he leaned forward, clouds of steam rose from his lips. "Breath of Thunder, Fifth Form. Heat Lightning."

The sound hit Tengen so hard that he covered his ears, and the old man was gone--on the other side of the tree, which was not only cleanly chopped, but split itself in half vertically as it fell. A rarity, Tengen's jaw dropped. Jigoro looked back with a fierce grin, knowing he'd have left them all impressed.

Rather than one knee, Tengen planted his palms and face to the ground. "Please teach me this technique, Master."

"When did I ever say I wanted a student like you? You already said you know Breath technique, don't you?"

"You won't teach him?" Suma sat straight up, little tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I only want students with talents I can mold. You're already set your ways and would just try to make Thunder Breathing into what you want. You can't fill a full tea cup, as they say."

Tengen wanted to insist he's do anything to take his revenge, but the old man was right. As he was, he wouldn't be able to unlearn everything he always knew, it was as much a part of him as every experience and memory, like every scar, such as the ones running down his left arm.

"The true nature of Thunder Breathing would escape you, you'd get too caught up in how powerful it looks. You're too flashy!"

His cheeks flushed. "Say that again."

"You're too... flashy? I don't think a ninja should find that a compliment."

"You can't tell him all that and then not train him!" insisted Makio. "Please! There's got to be something you can do! Tengen-sama works really hard!"

"Tengen-sama works harder than anyone!"

"Please, Master. Tengen-sama can think flexibly, please give him a chance."

"I won't! I can already tell he's not the sort of student I'm looking for!" he barked back, and Suma burst out into sobs, while Hinatsuru hid delicate tears and Makio's face turned dark red. Jigoro flinched at the sight of the upset girls, then looked back to Tengen. "I--I didn't come out here to leave you high and dry, you know. I already told you about the Corp, didn't I? That's where you really need to go. I can't teach you Thunder Breathing, but if you really think you can pick up something new, there's an old scroll I've got of an off-shoot Breath. Someone like you might be able to pull it off. What do you say, ninja boy? How about I give that to you and you teach yourself Sound Breathing?"

---

From there, Tengen took much the same course as in canon. When he became a Pillar and had his meeting with Oyakata-sama, he was upfront about his reasons for entering the Corp. Oyakata-sama appreciated his frankness and assured him that the entire Corp would support him if they found any information on Yogen, but Oyakata-sama was also keen on the undercurrent of Tengen's heart; that he was relieved to leave the murderous ways of ninja, and that he wanted to live an upright life. This finally gave words to something Tengen always felt, but thought he had no right to wish for. He and his wives were moved and they swore loyalty to Oyakata-sama.

However, as time went on, there were no clues whatsoever about Yogen. Around the time they all got antsy, Makio finally couldn't stand it anymore and suggested they may never find him. "Think about it," she said. "This Corp is full of strong swordsmen. Someone might had already chopped off his head long before we got here."

While that should had come as a relief, Tengen couldn't help but find the idea frustrating. That revenge was his to take. He could think of only one person stronger than him who might had done it, so he described Yogen to Himejima one day and asked if he remembered seeing a demon like that. Himejima plainly replied that he was blind.

As they began to accept that they may never have closure, Hinatsuru proposed that they be satisfied bagging an Upper Moon. That should be enough for them to earn their peace, she said, and as much as it grinded away at Tengen's heart, he agreed.

In the course of performing Tengen's Pillar duties, they closed in on what was likely an Upper Moon in Yoshiwara. Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma slipped in, but when he lost contact, Tengen went looking for some female Corp members to sneak in and see what was up. That's when he reencountered the boy whose head he meant to spill at the last Pillar meeting, as well as his two annoying buddies. Inosuke would had been satisfyingly flamboyant, if not for the fact that he was gross. The other whelp was named Zenitsu.

"You write that 'Zen' with the kanji for virtue?"

"Yeah. What's it to you?"

"Nothing," Tengen replied, never saying anything of it ever again. It didn't take long for him to notice that Zenitsu had ears on par with his own.

The boys managed to get in, and soon the plan went awry. Tengen's first encounter with an Upper Moon broke out, and that went awry in the most horrifically flamboyant of ways. Tengen found himself unconscious, needing to stop his heart to keep the demon poison from spreading, as it was many times more potent than any ninja or demon poison he encountered before. There was fire in the wreckage nearby, he'd be consumed if he doesn't move soon. In the odd space where consciousness was returning to him, his hearing reached into a deeper plain, where he could hear the most carnal thoughts pounding though the bodies of those around him.

Tanjiro was panicking.

No scent! No scent! Upper Moon Five--where did--but--no scent! No scent!!

Tengen could hear Upper Moon Six, in both bodies, but he couldn't hear any other demon. It gave off no sound. He struggled to look in Tanjiro's direction, and was stunned by the sight of a demon partway sticking out of the shadow Tanjiro has cast, guarding Upper Moon Six with a kunai stuck in his arm.

"Sakage!" growled Upper Moon Six. That is not the demon's name. "I don't need you here! Were you intruding on my thoughts?"

"I didn't need to. I heard the cacophony from ages away. You wouldn't had seen wisteria coming anyway."

Upper Moon Six looked to the kunai, while Tanjiro panicked that the poison had no effect on the newly arrived demon.

"Quit with all the fuss. I'd appreciate it if you hurry up and silence that Pillar over there," he turned his glance to Tengen. His eyes had writing in them, but that was Yogen. "I can't be bothered."

Yogen disappeared into the shadow as suddenly as he appeared, and Tanjiro fell forward with a stumble. He'd be a sitting duck like that, Tengen had to go save him, he pushed himself off the ground to--but--but his arm was missing--the scars were torn off-----

---

Yogen had been quick to learn some of the ins and outs of being a demon, but not all the finer details. He gathered from the surrounding demons' fear of the drum demon that the "Twelve Moons" were the most fearsome demons, closest to their progenitor, but didn't those other demons notice that the drum demon couldn't stomach humans as he ate them? That demon was weak, and Yogen wouldn't stand for it. He cut off his head.

It did not kill the demon, who screamed at him with the characters "Lower Six" in one of his eyes, but he shut up quick when Kibutsuji Muzan arrived. Despite warning Yogen that this was not how fights between demons were done and he should kill Yogen for acting without permission, Muzan smilingly decided to allow it, and instructed him to absorb the former Lower Moon Six and assume his role. Muzan did not care for how Yogen's name referenced sunlight, though. He renamed him Sakage on a whim.

Sakage went on to learn very quickly how to please Muzan, and how to climb the ranks. While not immune, he could resist wisteria poison, which Muzan was more than pleased to borrow from him and see how he could try to adopt it into his own cells. Sakage could move between connected shadows, and in spying on the Corp, he picked up on the hand signs the swordsmen used and quickly deciphered them, and openly reported so to the demons that outranked him. With hearing far more advanced that his brother's ever was, he listened to the information shared between crows, piecing apart their language to the best of his understanding.

Lower Moons Three and Two later, he used his spying abilities to identify his next target: Upper Moon Five.

Gyokko was startled by the challenge, and under Muzan's gaze, he could not refuse. Sakage made short work of him, and the other Moons all felt a chill. Akaza's chill was excitement.

Akaza wasted no time in chatting up the new Upper Moon, for Sakage likewise had a stated hatred for weaklings. While Sakage did find it a bit of a bother, especially since he knew he was a long way from ever being able to pose a real challenge to Akaza, he learned that the quickest way to stop Akaza from pestering him was to spar. Akaza loved to chit-chat even while sparring, though, and this became a useful way for Sakage to catch up on a hundred years of gossip about the other Upper Moons.

While it did feel they had somewhat of a friendship, one day they got on the topic of poison. "I hate people who use poison," said Akaza, between punches. "It's as cowardly and low as you can get."

Sakage, who could create a myriad of weapons from his cells as needed and always laced them in poison, was not offended, but disagreed. "I see no problem in being effective."

This gave Akaza pause, and an uncomfortable drop in his stomach. He excused himself, and bothered Sakage not so often after that.

Muzan was typically pleased with Sakage, which made Hantengu tremble that the ambitious demon had it out for him next. When Muzan was in a foul mood after Upper Moon Six's defeat, Sakage was likewise in a bad mood for the annoyance he encountered out there, someone who should had stayed hidden away instead of bearing free his inherently show-offy personality by joining the Demon Slayer Corp, especially since he was sure to have his ears set to the ground now for any new sign of him. He was certain Tengen witnessed him. But, for as much of an insult as it was to the Upper Moons that Gyutaro let him live, Tengen wouldn't be much of a threat anymore.

Still, Sakage knew to keep his cool. He had news to report, and he was certain of his deciphering. When he declared where the swordsmith village was located, Muzan had no doubts, and sent Hantengu alone. "Now why couldn't you find that, after all this time?" Muzan smirked to Nakime. She, not being of any rank, could merely apologize. Sakage took no pleasure or pride in looking better than a peer whom he knew he was stronger than. Muzan's mood could never be sustained for long, though, and he very soon frowned back to him. "You've brought no word of the blue spider lily."

"My apologies."

"Aren't ninja supposed to have knowledge of these things? Weren't you of a high ranking clan? Go back and order them to search."

And, at that moment, a dangerous thought escaped Sakage's inner filter, it leaked though to his mind at the same moment it leaked to Muzan's: But I can't show my face back there.

The way Muzan's face bent with disgust drove more terror into Sakage than when he was still a human and first encountered the demon lord. He felt certain of a swift death, but Muzan let him be. Sakage was still too useful. But, Sakage knew he'd have to crawl back to Muzan's graces by providing something of more use to him. He had to unveil a secret of more value.

Tengen, who remained active despite missing an eye and a hand, was present at an emergency Pillar meeting. Tokito and Kanroji were bandaged up, and they recounted how the swordsmith village was attacked by Upper Moon Four. With two Pillars and a few other reliable Corp members all working together they defeated him well before daybreak, but not before discovering an ancient ability known only as "the mark."

As he was now, Tengen knew he'd never attain this. What bothered him more was how the demons found the village, so hidden that he'd have to put his mind to it to have figured out where it was. He could had resorted to old tricks to figure it out, whether that be silently tracking the smiths after their deliveries or flirting with the Kakushi, but what recourse would a demon have had?

'I heard the cacophony----'

A demon may have had ears that rivaled his own, or were better!

Feeling sure of which demon it may had been, he set to thinking of what he would do next. If the demon moved in shadow, listening for the Corps' secrets, what would be a bigger target than the swordsmith village?

Oyakata-sama!

"Uzui-san, are you alright?" asked Himejima. "You seem quiet today."

"You look pale," added Kanroji.

"I'm jealous I won't get one of those flashy marks," he lief without flaw. "We all know I can't take any demons on like I used to. Maybe I don’t belong here."

"Uzui, what sort of talk is that?" Iguro looked to him with his flamboyant dichromatic eyes wide, and brows knit tight over them. "This isn't like you."

"I've got a different sort of mission to go on, I'll see myself out. You all stay here and keep each other company discussing this."

"Then I'll excuse myself here as well--"

"Not you, you've got no excuse," Uzui forced Tomioka back to a seated position by pressing on his head.

In conducting his own investigation, Tengen set his crow to work investigating from the sky. What the crow learned, tracing a few leaks and scolding the birds involved, was that their mid-air communications may had been what spoiled the secret location. This confirmed Tengen's suspicion about Yogen's hearing. He had a feeling about some other spoiled secrets too, and in following up with Corp members involved in previous mishaps, he concluded that the secret hand signals had been divulged.

(Read the conclusion reblog here.)

#please reblog from the conclusion post thx #tw blood #tw violence #tw cannibalism

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smokeys-house · 3 years ago

Note

Can we hear some pirate tales from puukko?

Gonna put this under a cut bc it's a little on the long side! Also pls excuse any formatting issues bc I'm on mobile.

This was super fun to write but I'm rusty so I hope it's a fun read!

Pirate tales from Puukko (1)

You're seated in a comfortable chair by a fireplace. The scent of the rustic cabin's old wood mingles with the smoke and the aroma of hot coffee from the steaming mugs on the coffee table. Across from you sits a familiar older woman, thick fur and a devilish scar across her eye.

"So... pirate tales is what yer after." She leaves her rocking chair at a comfortable pace. "Of course, of course, aye... If that's how you want to spend your evening." She opens a cabinet in the corner, sliding several objects out of the way. A few small bits and bobs clatter to the floor, but she patently ignores them. She reaches far into the back of the cabinet, looking away at nothing and biting her tongue in focus as she fumbles around inside the cupboard. You sip idly at your coffee.

"Aha, here we are!" Her voice is low and gravel-y, but the fondness in her tone is comforting. She sets aside what appears to be a very dusty false panel and sets a very small chest down on the table. Before you can ask what it is she's found, she begins pouring a deep amber liquid from a bottle she pulled from the chest directly into your coffee. "I won't have you waste that. Sup mindfully." Her commanding voice is intimidating, but sweet. She pours noticeably heavier into her own mug.

"I'll be brief. But let me tell you of a day I thought would be my last." She takes a very long sip, and sits back. "Now it may surprise you that at one time I was quite young like yourself. This all happened pretty early on in my piracy days. When ah was a young upstart with a fire in my belly and with my caution very intentionally placed to the wind." She begins to prepare her pipe. She hasn't looked in your direction since she began her story.

"I'd made a rather small name for myself by then. Had no shortage of plunder; trade ships, navy, even other pirates. Another young aspiring 'property reassigner' by the name of Capitan Helio had set his sights on my haul. He weren't an enemy or nothin' he just thought he could show his quality as a sailor by takin' on yours truly. He was a hard young man but not a very wise one, and he hadn't the stones for a killing. Now the style of piracy I'm most known fir was sneakin' on board, alone. My crew would keep the ship at an unthreatening distance, and I'd row on over in the dark of night aboard a tiny little dinghy painted all dark and sneaky like." At this point you notice she's starting to sound a bit different, perhaps a bit piratey. She seems almost excited.

"I'd usually get the capitan up in the middle of the night. Put on airs and act all big and scary in his cabin while he's got his night cap on." She chuckled deeply. "It's where my ship got its name. The Honeyed Word. Sometimes it'd go sour and things would get more... well let's say it's less family friendly. Anyway ol Sunny knew that's what I got up to. An' he figured if he could pull off me own stratagem against me and my crew that folks would respect 'im more I suppose." She puts some ember tongs in the fire and fishes out a small chunk of hot coal. She sets it in the bowl of her pipe and starts puffing intently before tossing the tongs aside.

"I'm shleeping shoundly in my cabin all comfy an' cozy" Her pipe hangs from between her teeth. She pinches free the coal from it with her fingers and tosses it back into the fire, taking a long drag from her now prepared pipe. "And in walks none other than ol' Sunny boy!" She slaps her knee and guffaws. "He hated it when ah called him that. So I sit up in my bed and I says to him 'fancy meeting you here! I don't normally take up gentleman callers.' An' I'm supposin' he thinks he's rather clever on account o' he starts up with 'I ain't no gentleman! Not tonight. Tonight I'm the most famous pirate on the seas.' What a bilge rat!" At this point she seems downright jovial.

"Now by then I'm real tired, and to be honest, fairly annoyed. I'm in my jammies and I've got to use the head somethin' fierce so I'm 'avin none of it. He starts goin' on about my unconditional surrender" She blows a raspberry crudely. "An' I'm barely hearin' 'im. I get outta bed and start heading for the bathroom like he's not even there. Obviously that upset Mr Sunny to no small degree. He reaches for his pistol and I'm quite the cocky lass so I just ignores it. I didn't think he had the stones for it."

You've been nursing your drink but she's finished hers. She's fully engrossed in her tale and is now pacing in front of the fire as she speaks. "That's when I hear it." She goes quiet and her grandiose gestures slump into a closed off position. It's a long moment where her eyes are empty and staring into nothing. Her tone was somber, almost fearful. "The hammer on his pistol. The flint strikes the frizzen. My heart sank. and then... nothing! I turn and I'm starin' down the barrel of his flintlock and I'm absolutely enraged! I hadn't made it out the door o' my cabin yet so I reach for the letter opener on my desk and start stickin' him!"

She's grinning, very in her element before she notices your discomfort at the idea of repeatedly... injuring a man with a letter opener. "Ahem. Sorry. He's fine now, we got him patched up okay after the whole incident. Anyway by now you're probably wondering what happened. Well the thing about pushing out in those little tiny boats at sea to sneak aboard is that it's not a very leisurely activity! I always kept me pistols wrapped thoroughly before headin' out, but the poor fool didn't think that far ahead! All his powder was soaked by the time he got aboard!"

You wonder about what lesson she's trying to teach here, or if she's simply recounting an incident as it happened. You can feel the coziness of the cabin beginning to take you. "The guest room's all right n' ready for ye over there. I knew that'd put ye to bed." She gives a hearty chuckle and motions to a door with her pipe. You find rest rather easily on the mountain of extra blankets.

#capitan's cabin #creative writing #short story #moomin oc #puukko #idk how to tag writing stuff adrgdthch hope this was fun for yall!#whetstone's whispers

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kyunisixx · 3 years ago

Text

chiaroscuro

artist!Robert Plant AU one shot.

a/n: this really started out as a song I wanted to write. But I knew I had to turn it into a longer writing!!

themes: fluff, mild implications of nsfw and tw: childhood trauma.

summary: in which Y/N becomes a muse for Robert, a landscape artist in more ways than one. (Man, that summary is so shit but let's roll with it)

pairing: artist!Robert Plant x fem!reader

chi·a·ro·scu·ro

the treatment of light and shade in drawing and painting.

an effect of contrasted light and shadow created by light falling unevenly or from a particular direction on something.

"Lean back for me a bit more, darling. That's right, relax."

As she moves, the old sofa creaks beneath her. Chilled air gusts through a partially opened window, making her shiver and sending miniscule bumps all over her bare skin. Her eyes drift over the fixtures inside the cozy cabin, illuminated by an outmoded oil lamp situated on the man's table. Several tiny moths were floating around it as the flame wavered ever so slightly from the breeze.

Scattered were all paintbrushes and smudges of paint were messily smeared all over the table. A round board was placed so close at the edge (one she heard him call before —a palette). In the middle is a rustic cup with half-empty, now cold tea. But a paint-smudged hand grasped on its handle and swiftly brought it over to a mouth.

Then her eyes met his.

His frizzled, curly blond locks are pulled into a disheveled bun. One he pinned up so carelessly with a thin, unused paintbrush as to prevent it from obstructing his view but a few ringlets managed to escape and are now framing his face.

Ivory-colored shirt, a few buttons undone to reveal smooth skin of his collarbones which were also marked with a few shades of paint. Some scattered across his jawline to his cheek.

Lips are pursed and eyes are pulled into deep concentration, they are set into a particular part of her. As if to capture the exact curvature of the crease on her waist.

Salient was the cleft on his chin and the sharp edge of his cheekbones by the incandescent light lent by the lamp, making him look like a contrast between sinister and elegance.

He dipped a brush and carefully made short strokes on the canvas, pausing every now and then to look at her.

The sun was setting and the sky was shaded a dull gray, providing so little of brightness which seemed to have darkened even more being situated in a lush forest.

Many months ago at this time of the day, she would have just been getting up from her sleep. Wake up and get ready for a long shift. It was a routine she had gotten so used to every day.

Take a bath. Eat. Pick out an outfit. Put on makeup. Be into the persona.

She would become a completely different person as soon as she stepped into the establishment she knew for as long as she moved into the town a few months ago.

From having to move into different cities and using different names to hide her identity. All of it to escape the filthy and haunted ghost of her past.

Screaming. Glass breaking. Bruises. Slamming doors. All of the things a child shouldn't have to go through. She took a risk and ran away from it.

And here is where she ended up thirteen years later.

Lacklustre eyes unmoving as they steadily stared back at her in a blurry mirror inside the changing room. All the girls' chattering seemed to have been muted and faded in the background as she gazed at her reflection. She picked up the small item in her hand, before taking the cap off and swiped the crimson lipstick across her chapped lips, creating a thick shade.

"Y/N, you ready to go?"

She turned her head back to Don, the club manager. She smiled and moved her head in a single nod.

“Sure, Don. Just give me a short moment”. She adjusted the strap of her black velvet dress and walked on the familiar, dimly lit hallway. Her stilettos clapped quietly on the floor as she padded and stopped in front of a red curtain covering the doorway from the side to the stage.

"How's it going, folks? Alright, alright. I'd get right into it. This is the moment you've all been waiting for. The crowd favourite, slithers like a python, mistress of the night; Marilyn"

Then, she waited as the main lights switched off and took her cue to enter as smoke filled the platform. Coloured lights gleamed right through. She situated herself right in the middle then circled her hand on the pole as the first note of the song started to hum quietly. Like a distant patter of rain—calm before the storm. Her hips moved into the rhythm and fluidly sneaked around the pole as the cloud of smoke started to clear out. Gazing into the crowd of men, her blood-red lips quirk into a smirk.

It was the only time she knew she had complete power and control. And she relished it, savoring the potency.

Her hands smoothed all over her now slightly perspired skin as men clamored and hooted for her. Bills were haphazardly thrown into the dancefloor. Something that she wasn't used to when she first started, it made her feel cheap. Dirty. But her routine carried on almost every night, she eventually got used to it and had even grown to like it.

Then she spotted him.

Big ball of golden hair illuminated by stage lights. He was situated amongst the sea of predators, his eyes followed the fluidity of her movements. But what struck her the most was the way he was watching her. It wasn't shadowed by lust, but more of an intense wonder and curiosity. It was as if he was memorizing each part of her curves, but for another purpose.

Her gaze somewhat mirrored his. He definitely wasn't strange-looking. Hell, he might have been the most beautiful man she has ever seen. He didn't belong to a place where no good men wander around. Both his beguiling beauty and aura was completely out of place for such a place like this.

The song then came to a stop. Her number was over but her eyes remained locked with his. It was only then she came back to consciousness as Don's voice boomed into the large speakers, signalling the end of her performance. She collected the bills scattered on the floor and walked off the stage, throwing a last glance into the crowd as she took her exit.

He was gone.

He wouldn't show up for a couple of days. She was sure, of course. The moment she steps out, her eyes would already be skimming through the lounge, and would sigh in disappointment if she didn't spot any sign of him.

"Have you seen your mysterious man yet?"

One of the girls she was closest to, Hershey, asked as she counted the thick block of bills on her hand.

"He wasn't out there tonight"

"You could have been hallucinating. Anyway, you told me he was 'like an angel'"

Hershey laughed, mimicking the way she had said the last part with a breathy tone and added, "Or could have been disappointed in your dance number, ran away and swore to not step a foot into this place again"

She stopped momentarily, chuckled lightly and sighed, "You may not be far from the truth but we'll see."

Then he would be there the next night, positioned right at a table at the back. His curly locks gave his identity right away, with his elbows propped up and fingers poised against his chin, bearing the same gaze.

Later that night, he'd be waiting right outside of the club.

"The show was spectacular."

She tilted her head to him, nodded and smiled.

"Thank you."

She wasn't sure how it ended up with her sitting on a stool inside a cozy 24-hour operating diner so late at night, chatting with her "mysterious man" late at night, who introduced himself as Robert. He was apparently a landscape artist and has traveled the world where he finds inspirations for his works.

"The best place I have ever been to? Hm. I'd say Machu Picchu, set in the high mountains of Andes in Peru, above a river called Urubamba. I had to hike all the way up, and you could see the breathtaking view when you reach the top."

"That does sound very lovely." She sighed wistfully.

"Have you ever traveled anywhere outside the country?"

"Oh no, I have not. I move to different places a lot but I've never gone out, never had the chance to."

"Ah, you should! It's wonderful."

She nodded, "Do you only do landscaping?"

"Well, no. I do a little bit of abstract art but I focus mainly on landscaping. I was thinking of expanding more, though. Maybe portrait, or nude art."

"That's a good idea. An artist has to come out of his comfort zone and be able to become great."

"Yeah…", he trailed off, as if lost in thought. "I hope this doesn't come off as strange or I as a creep. But may I ask you to be my muse? Don't worry! We'll only do portrait." He added the last sentence quickly.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him, her brows furrowed deep in thought.

"You don't have to s—"

"I'll do it."

A few days later, she was again popped up on a stool inside his flat just a few blocks away from the club. His place was spacious, but had a very rustic feel to the interior design. A few souvenirs from different countries were neatly placed on a shelf and most of his paintings were hung stylistically on the walls (in which she stared at in complete awe for what she could tell an hour each painting until he had to drag her away to his studio)

Her fingers fiddled as she tried to stay still under his calculating gaze. She never had much problem with how she looked and never had insecurities. Perhaps she just didn't care enough to be insecure. But at that moment, she thought of how she must've appeared to him and if she was good-looking enough to be an inspiration for his art.

"Are you alright there?"

"Yes! Yes, I… Yeah I'm alright."

His hand stopped and placed the paintbrush on the table. "Are you sure? If you're not comfortable or if you need a break, we could stop for a bit."

She shook her head vigorously, "No, it's okay. Don't worry."

"If you say so."

She let her eyes travel from his bare foot, to his khaki trousers, to his satin shirt with top three buttons undone, to his face. Oh, his gorgeous face. It was pulled into a deep concentration as he stared at his work, giving her some time to study his majestic features.

His eyes flickered to hers as if sensing her stare and playfully frowned, a small smile curled on the side of his lips.

"What?"

He laughed, "You were staring."

"I was. Is it a crime?"

"No, I wouldn't say it is." He said with a teasing edge to his voice.

It was their arrangement which they stick to a few times a week. On her day off, after work if she wasn't feeling too exhausted. There was an obvious attraction lingering inside the room of his small studio but none of them acted upon it other than just casual flirtations thrown around. He was a perfect gentleman and had always been accommodating. A couple of times he would insist on paying her in which she would always refuse to accept.

"The tea you make for me is enough for a payment." She had jokingly said. "Do not worry about it, Robert. Really, it's okay. I'm making enough from my job."

One night, after their sessions, they had too many drinks and bottles were littered over the table along with his paint brushes which had long dried of paint.

"Tell me about you, Marilyn. Mistress of the night, who apparently, slithers like a python." He mused, mentioning her alias. His glossy eyes filled with mirth.

She snorted, took a long swig of beer and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

"Marilyn is… Nobody. I'm nobody. I came from somewhere that in my mind, ceased to exist." She stared ahead. "I ran away from home. Who calls it a home anyway?" She laughed humorlessly.

"My parents fought a lot. They spent so much time fighting, they didn't even have time for me. Looking back at it now, I could have just preferred that. But then, they turned their anger towards me." She sniffed and quickly wiped the salty tears before they even slid down to her flushed cheeks.

"I went to my grandparents. They loved me so much and I loved them so dearly. But they were not my parents. Eventually, both of them passed away and I was left on my own. But I was eighteen. I didn't have to go back to my parents. So I went to different cities, finding places where I could feel like I could fit in. Looked for jobs, and then I ended up here. I made friends and I have my own place, but it still never felt like home."

He was quietly staring at her, and the silence was deafening. Then he lifted his free hand to her face and ran the back of his index finger to dry her cheeks. Her hand caught his and brought it to her lips and placed a soft kiss.

"But with you, it feels… different. I like hanging out with you. I like being with you. You feel like home to me, Robert."

Her voice echoed softly as he took his time to reply. But he didn't, instead, he leaned down and sealed his lips against hers.

He layed limply on top of her body as he shuddered from his release. Both tried to desperately catch for their breath as her hand smoothed down his back and the other combed through his damp locks. He slid out of her and dropped beside her, not too long before he enclosed his arms over her and pulled closer. He catches her lips on his in a lazy kiss and smiled.

"You feel like home to me too, Y/N."

Her heart soared and nuzzled her nose against his.

"I want to paint you like this. May I? You are so beautiful. In light and in shadow."

She blushed, "Yes, but right now? I'm tired."

"No, no. We'll do it tomorrow. I'll take you somewhere." His warm breath hit her skin as he whispered.

"Where?" She whispered back.

"Well, I'm not telling you that. But it was what I helped my Father build when I was younger. It's somewhat like a special place for me, and I want you to see it."

He gazed at her as he waited for her to respond.

"Okay."

Under the light of the lamp, she peers at him under her lashes.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Mm? I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You know what it is. Cut it out or I'll never get to finish this."

She huffs. "You're no fun"

"I can prove you otherwise in a few minutes."

He continued to do his finishing touches and leaned back to admire his work.

"That isn't too bad. But nothing compares to the real art."

"And what might that be?"

"You, my love." He stood up, walked over to where she was, placed his hand at the back of her neck and pulled her to him.

"I've been waiting for this for hours."

"I've been giving you hints and you insist on finishing your art."

He chuckled. "Of course I had to."

His fingers danced their way from her sides to her hips, rubbing along the marks littered across her skin.

"Are you ready to see it?" He murmured against her neck. She shudders as she nodded, giving their playful banter a break.

He bit her earlobe softly, "Okay."

He walked over to his canvas and carefully turned it around to face her.

She gasps.

⭐ writings list ⭐

taglist: @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @princesspagey , @ritacaroline , @jimmys-zeppelin , @rebel-without-a-zeppelin , @reincarnated70sbaby (if you wanted to be added in, let me know 🤘🏻🤗)

#robert plant x reader #robert plant #led zeppelin #fanfic #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin imagines #john paul jones #john bonham #jimmy page #fluff #cabincore #rustic #artist!au

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wh6res · 4 years ago

Text

taeil — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. soulmates are connected by a red string.

synopsis. taeil thinks the whole system is bullshit. he needs to take matters into his own hands.

warnings. tread cautiously. swearing, mentions of death, blood, mentions of kidnapping, violence, turning a 'lil dubcon near the end, severe stockholm syndrome, manipulation

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

thank you to. sexeh sam @yukwonghei, cutie charlie @dundun-baby, and baby rina @greenish-taro for beta-reading!

since he was a kid, he’s fantasized about meeting his soulmate. creating scenario after scenario of how he’d meet ‘the one’ as he had cheesily addressed and had absolutely freaked when he finally saw the red string tied around his right wrist on his 20th birthday—courtesy of the soulmate rules of the universe, where one will finally be able to see the string tied around their body once they’ve come of age.

for years before he met that other soul who’s destined to be with him, taeil would stare at the red thread lying across the floor, disappearing under the gap of his door and out to the world unknown. he’d be so distracted, so aloof and in his own world as he anticipates the long-awaited day until his professor calls him out—“moon! do yourself a favor and stop daydreaming!”

until his friends snap him out of it—“thinking of them again? really?”

until his parents shake him out of his thoughts—“don’t worry, i bet they’ll love you!”

sometimes he just loved staring at the string, it was something so measly as a bunch of threads intricately woven together yet it held such a symbol in today’s world. call him lovesick or stupid but was it really wrong to feel excited? taeil’s even betting the person on the other side of this string is just as excited as he was, if not more.

in the man’s eyes, the strings are a symbol of something more than love—it symbolized the person the universe has created especially for him and no one else.

taeil can’t even imagine a world without these strings. how difficult it would be, to love and invest in someone who will only end up breaking your heart? no, the strings also meant reassurance.

assurance that he won’t get hurt.

an assurance of faithfulness.

he had only been a wide-eyed fresh grad looking for some place to intern when it happened. like a scene right out of a cheesy romance movie—he felt the persistent tugs of the string before finally meeting his soulmate. well, using the word meet to describe the whole ordeal is a huge stretch because it was more of a holy shit, is that my soulmate? rather than a hi, i'm your soulmate, taeil!

he merely saw the back of her poised figure but taeil’s heart felt like it wanted to explode, his emotions a mess and feeling everything to the extremes. nervous. scared. anxiety. happiness. excitement—it was all coming at him like bullets.

as taeil stared at her back, walking away, johnny kept shoving him forward, encouraging him to finally approach the person he’s been waiting for ever since that soulmate string appeared around his pinky.

but he couldn’t—not because he was so anxious he’d accidentally vomit the 4-cheese whopper he had for lunch but due to the line of people trailing behind his soulmate like a bunch of baby ducks to their mom. the thought of coming up to his soulmate and introducing himself in front of all those people?

romantic, maybe, but taeil doesn’t have the stomach to do that.

he remembers how much johnny had wolf whistled, unbelieving of the fact his friend managed to snag the possible heir to the company they’re attending an interview in as his soulmate.

“lucky little asshole,” johnny muttered.

taeil had been experiencing the post-effects of seeing his soulmate that he just weakly punched johnny’s arm for the heck of it. he probably didn’t even hear the name his younger friend had called him. taeil’s mind is clouding over, no thoughts in his head but the white polo shirt she wore, sleeves neatly rolled up, and the black pencil skirt hugging her legs and making her ass look so plump.

focus. he needs to focus on the interview right now or else he won’t even have the chance to work here and officially meet her. everything the interviewer asked passed through his head like paper planes in a classroom, shamelessly asking the woman sitting before him to repeat the question, too busy reveling about how their soulmate story would be the cliché office-love. not that taeil minds, he’d love going to work together—

two weeks later, johnny receives an email of acceptance. taeil doesn’t.

the man nearly threw his laptop away out of sheer disbelief and anger. okay, sure, maybe he could’ve done better in the interview but he graduated with latin honors in college! and from a prestigious college at that. he shouldn’t even be applying as a mere intern with the skill set he had yet he went with it because he’d always dreamed of working there.

and now knowing his soulmate is possibly someone who holds a high position in the company? everything just kept getting better and better for moon taeil.

except for that fucking email—pft, or lack thereof. how can they not accept him when he’s more capable than johnny, anyway? for fuck’s sake! taeil doesn’t even ask that guy for rent and he’s so thick-skinned that he stayed up to this day and freeloaded off taeil’s food and shelter.

the absolute unfairness of the situation makes taeil’s blood reach a fever point. he’s completely lossed it, leading him to spit “get the fuck out!” to the other male occupant in the apartment with eyes glaring and lips pulled into a nasty sneer.

johnny’s never seen taeil this upset before and decided that he’d be better off abiding by the older man’s wishes instead of contradicting it.

no. no. no. this can’t be happening. if taeil doesn’t work there, with her, all his sweet fantasies won’t come true and god forbid she ends up falling for another person in the company.

anyone would be naturally drawn to taeil’s soulmate. in his eyes, she’s a goddess in the flesh. taeil doesn’t even need to see her face, from the few seconds he saw a glimpse of her, her presence and allure in itself is already eye-catching. the way her low ponytail swished from side to side as she walked, her back straight and head held high.

taeil needs to see her again. maybe if she finds out he’s her soulmate she’ll put a good word in and he’ll get hired.

yeah. yeah, that’s a good plan.

“please get out of my office or i’ll call security.”

or not.

“no, wait. but i just said i’m your soulmate!” to further prove his point, he even raises up his pinky and sure enough the other end of the string is tied around hers. the incessant pull is there and if not for her sharp cold eyes anchoring him to the ground, taeil would’ve long been soaring high in cloud nine.

“and i said i don’t care,” she snaps just as her fingers sneakily pressed a button in her phone. “i have a fiancé. the whole soulmate bullshit doesn’t apply to rich people. so for the fucking last time, get out of my office.”

“but—”

the double doors of the vice president’s office bounces off the walls when two burly guards barge in. dressed in a white long sleeves and those heavy tinted shades of glasses that taeil hates. the two men waste no time in hooking their arms underneath the smaller, frail man as he thrashes against their arms.

“how can you not care about your soulmate?!” taeil can feel the beginning licks of the flames eating up his whole world as everything comes crashing down before his very eyes. “i’ve been—i’ve been waiting my whole life for you and this is how you treat me?!”

he doesn’t know what hurts more, the scratch in his throat as he screamed with all his might or the stoic look written on her face as the guards haul him away.

when johnny heard the news he’d never felt so sorry for his friend. rumors that initially circulated only between the executive board members had spread and trickled down to the common folk on the lower levels. johnny making it a mission to find out, had extracted himself from his usual cheery and extroverted self to blend in with the background. taeil has yet to talk to him after he got kicked out, so asking his friend—or ex-friend?—about what happened is out of the question.

but like any other breed of rumor, the tale of their vice president’s soulmate barging in her office is ever changing through each mouth that tells the story. johnny doesn't know what to believe in. he’s been trying to put off a meeting with the older man ever since he started crashing in taeyong’s apartment instead. not that taeil himself even tried reaching out to johnny, anyway.

so why should he, when he doesn’t even know what he did wrong?

but there’s a nagging voice at the back of johnny’s head. his conscience isn’t too loud but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there and it doesn’t need excessive volumes to be heard. all it takes is a second of distraction from the paperwork he does, attention straying from the task at hand, and his body will automatically be wracked with guilt.

knowing how much taeil had waited for his soulmate to come to his life, knowing how taeil can readily give everything up for his soulmate without even meeting them yet… and now knowing taeil just got the worst ever rejection in his entire life?

johnny can’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through. is he really going to choose now out of all times to be petty because taeil kicked him out when he didn’t even bother asking johnny for anything in return during his stay in the apartment?

so when taeil finally contacted him, the sketchyness of what he had asked for flew right over johnny’s head. rational thoughts flying out the window because taeil needs him, he should his friend after everything taeil did for him—

“hey, uhm… i need insider’s information, can you do that for me?”

you shook your head at the long story johnny told you. tuffs of your hair have escaped the intricate pigtails taeil has put your hair up in earlier before he left for work. he’s always hated having your hair messy, but at the moment you couldn’t find yourself to care.

“i wouldn’t put it past taeil’s original soulmate…” you think aloud, mouth speaking before you can stop yourself as you stare disdainfully at the dulled string wrapped around your pinky—it lost its divine red glow after your captor had cut it off on the same day he whisked you away.

ironic, how easy it was to destroy something so important.

you backtracked, realizing the gravity of what you said before looking up at your captor’s friend. johnny doesn’t look all too impressed and he sighs at the pleading look in your eyes. please, don’t tell him.

“i guess you’re somewhat right…” he gives in, coursing his fingers through his hair. “taeil had been… very passionate on finding his soulmate. but i mean, come on, why’d you even marry someone who isn’t your soulmate? i don’t blame taeil for doing what he did to them.”

johnny ignores the way your breath hitches and your body halts all movement. “what—what did he do?”

“paid them a ‘lil visit after gathering enough resources from someone on the inside,” his face stoic, voice monotone. johnny doesn’t like talking about this one. “he studied their schedules, where they live, where they work, how they get to work, what time they sleep, what time they wake. then just one day…”

he drags a finger across his neck.

“oh.”

pathetically, it was all you can say. why did you even bother to ask, anyway? if taeil had been willing to exert force just to keep you in line, then he has the stomach for whatever gruesome deaths he subjected his soulmate and her fiancé to.

you nibble on your lip as you stare at the knot of thread lying on the floor. you don’t see the need to wear the collar wrapped around your neck when that knot is good enough a reminder that you’re now bound to taeil. that he’s fucked around with your destiny and decided he’ll have you out of all people.

its hard to believe taeil once almost worshipped the soulmate bonds, not when all he’s ever done is look at it like it's the bane of his existence and calling it a curse to humanity.

“do you know that you’re—”

“that i’m the 5th? yeah, i know. i saw all the knots on his string.” you defeatedly say, a vivid image of the knots spaced across his string like tophies. “taeil doesn’t like me staring at them, though.”

and you yourself didn’t like staring at them. you never thought something so small and insignificant can mean something so sinister. the knots on his string acting like a body counter. will he get sick of you one day and you’ll just be another knot on his string?

“you’re nothing like his soulmate—i’m not insulting you or anything, i’m just saying the truth. the past girls all had at least something in common with her but you… nothing. not even your hair shines like hers, and that’s even after taeil has taken good care of you.”

this doesn’t soothe you in any sense and before you can open your mouth to retort, the familiar beeping of the code getting punched into the keypad cuts you off.

taeil stood in the entrance as he shrugged off his coat, his polo crinkled at some areas and pieces of his hair had escaped that slicked back hairstyle.

“you’re home early…”

your blood runs cold when he doesn’t even offer you a glance, skipping you out and immediately addressing johnny. “i thought i told you to go home already after delivering the food.”

you admire the way johnny’s eyes roll. must be nice not to be so fucking terrified of the man. “yeah, but your current sweetheart here was lonely and practically begged me to stay.”

the sting of betrayal never grows familiar.

“i never said anything—”

“you did, have you forgotten already?” you hate the show of lust clouding in johnny’s eyes as he stares you down. this can’t be happening right now. “have you forgotten how you even came unto me? whined like a bitch about how taeil doesn’t even fuck you hard enough and you had to fake orgasms all the time?”

“that’s not true!” your frustration manifests as tears. they sting your eyes as you look at taeil. “i never said anything—”

but you pale when you realize they’re not even listening to you, the two guys fist bumping in the foyer and exchanging a few words like “thanks for telling me,” and “no problem, bro,” were heard before taeil is heatedly storming up to you.

you feel numb as you look over taeil’s shoulder at the little smirk johnny shoots at you. have fun, he mouths mockingly and then he’s out the door, extracting himself from the mess he created.

when taeil wordlessly drags you across the hallway, you thought he’ll make a right turn and into the bedroom but imagine your surprise when he pulls you instead towards the bathroom. he wastes no time throwing you against the cold hard tiles as he tells you only one thing.

“strip.”

“taeil…”

“you don’t want to be replaced.” it doesn’t take a genius to know taeil had hit the nail on the head. all your movements come to a halt, looking up at him with an unreadable look in your face. “that’s your fear, isn’t it? that if you die, if i kill you, i can just look for another girl and you’d be forgotten at the snap of a finger. i’m right, aren’t i?”

you gulp, his words stinging even if he didn’t mean for it to sting. or maybe he did. taeil takes a step closer to you, studying your appearance as he brings a hand up to caress your tear-stained face.

spots in your clothes are wet due to the splashes of water on the tiles, and the clips in your hair that once looked neat and perfect are now hanging in disarray, falling off in some places.

“i’m sorry,” you sob. “i’m sorry, john—johnny’s lying. you—you have to—to believe me. please don’t replace me… i’ll be good, i promise…”

truly, there’s no better motivator than fear. and there’s no better way to mess with someone’s head than using their weakness against them.

“you say you’ll be good but i tell you to strip and you couldn’t even do that?”

taeil could never imagine replacing you. he finds it stupid, whatever that brought in this fear of yours, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be extracting every little bit he can get out of this.

he can only stare in awe when you start wiggling your way out of your pretty pink clothes, eyes drinking every bit of your skin slowly being exposed to him as he reaches behind you to open the running water, slowly filling the bathtub.

“get in,” he instructs and you waste no time.

as he sheds his own clothes, he can practically feel the want radiating off you. he knew johnny’s lying, but he humored his friend still. there’s no way you can fake the noises you always make. plus, taeil has seen one too many times the cum dribbling out of your cunt after he’s fucked you into oblivion. he scoffs. harder? then he’ll be breaking you in half already.

taeil swats your hand away as it reaches for his cock and he hopes you don’t notice it twitching before you when you let out a cute whine.

“you want it?”

you nod urgently, salavitating at the thought. taeil was more of a giver to his partners, it’s rare for him to take his pleasure first but you’re far from complaining.

“oh, i don’t know…” he pouts, fisting himself in front of you before giving it a few testing pumps. he swallows the hiss threatening to spill from his lips, chuckling instead at the intense look in your eyes as it follows his hand movements.

you were by far the most compliant girl he’s ever had, someone who’d rather stay than escape. his methods of forcing someone into submission worked extremely well with you. so really, how can he let go of his glorified little pet?

“you’re not lying to me, aren’t you? i got hurt, you know, with what johnny said… i guess i was doing something wrong.”

“no!” your reply is immediate. “no, that’s not true—”

hands wrap around your throat like a vice. “how about you prove it to me, love? tell me everything i want to hear.”

now, this is easy. you’ve practically memorized everything you need to tell him to boost his ego. it doesn’t even take much of an effort.

“i love your cock so much that my body hurts. it hits all the right places inside of me and i will never even dream of wanting another man because they won’t be able to fuck me like you do.”

you feel giddy when he smiles that satisfied smile, your toes curling in anticipation as he leans in to give his obedient darling a kiss—

until he shoves your face down the water.

it doesn’t take much effort to wrestle your limbs down and insert himself into you, groaning at the feeling of your lush and moist walls sucking him in. you’re always so damn wet when he fucks you, oh how much he loves it. loves how tighter your cunt wraps around him as you squirm and fight him to get to the surface of the half-filled tub.

it was only after a few deep thrusts did he relent and pull you up, the few hair clips in your hair floating in the water around as you gasp greedy amounts of air. one look at taeil’s face pulled in ecstasy is enough for you to know it was well worth it.

maybe being rejected by his soulmate was a blessing in disguise. maybe the disobedience of every girl he took before you had been deliberately well-planned. or else he’d never would’ve met you.

taeil was right. all the soulmate and soulmark shit is utterly useless and stupid. because you are by no means his soulmate, but fuck he’ll never let you go.

not when your destiny is to lay there underneath him, taking whatever it is that he gave you like a good little whore.

#yandere nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #yandere taeil #yandere nct 127 #taeil imagines #taeil scenarios #taeil smut

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winterandwords · 3 years ago

Text

Loitering with intent to Wattpad

I've been dithering about this a lot since I started getting back into visible internet activity with my writing, and I decided I'm going to start a new Wattpad profile for my microfiction and maybe for longer stuff later when I have longer stuff to share.

I've been on Wattpad before. I was never hugely involved in big site-wide activities, but one of my stories was featured (I didn't apply for that or suggest it, I just logged in one day and it had happened, which was super weird), some of my books were on official genre reading lists, I read a lot there, and I shared a few novellas and novels which I love with all my heart for being learning experiences, but that aren't anywhere online now and don't really represent what I do anymore.

I definitely don't write Typical Brand Wattpad stories and I'm fully aware that the majority of WP users aren't exactly my audience, but I also don't really care, especially since the site took away basically all discoverability tools and sort of became an online slush pile for their publishing department and media partnerships. I'm not complaining about that at all, just acknowledging that it's not exactly a place to share writing socially anymore, so I don't have that expectation. I know a lot of people got royally pissed off about it, but meh. Businesses gonna business.

The main thing that made me not want to be there before was the aggressively identity politics-ish vibe that seemed to suddenly become a very strong focus. Again, not complaining (apart from about the brigading, representation policing, and other unpleasant villagers-with-pitchforks drama, but I assume that's not common), it's just not something I enjoy as the main theme of my online creative experiences.

I honestly don't know how prevalent that whole "the demographic info of writer and their characters is the most, or only, important thing about a story" approach is, or if it was just a huge deal in the circles I moved in at that particular time. Maybe it's entirely possible to be on Wattpad in a small quiet way and not get bogged down in that. I mean, Tumblr is undeniably aggressively identity politics-y overall and people get absolutely ripped to shreds for not ticking all the ever-changing boxes of moral and social acceptability, but it's not something I encounter here on a regular basis because the people I choose to follow and interact with aren't like that.

What I did enjoy about Wattpad was the platform itself, in terms of function, aesthetics and usability. While it definitely isn't somewhere to bring people into from elsewhere (you pretty much have to set up an account and/or download the app to read anything and the ads are TERRIBLE if you don't have a premium subscription), it's a lovely user experience from a writing-and-sharing perspective and lets you create very slick, beautiful books. I also met some very cool people there and it can be great for finding things to read, if you don't object to doing some digging to reach the gold.

Writing serialised fiction and posting as I write is definitely not my thing (I tried it and it wasn't for me), but I'm creating content based around microfiction for other platforms anyway and I get a kick out of playing around with sharing on various channels. I'm also writing longer stories anyway and not planning to sell those in any kind of mainstream way (they'll be downloadable for free on my website, with an option to leave a tip) so it's not like having things on Wattpad would negatively impact anything else I'm doing.

So yeah. That's a thing. I'll post a link here once I get it all set up. I'd love to hear from other Tumblr folk who are on Wattpad as well so I can visit you and read yer stuff <3

#wattpad #wattpad writers #the shit in my head #writeblr #writeblr community #writer #writers #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #tumblr writers #writers community #writing #am writing #writing community #original writer #original writers

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monstersandmaw · 4 years ago

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Evening to ya, Ghosti✌️😆

Sorry if the wording sounds silly, but I wanted to ask if you know any rituals I could do for the New Years. 🤣 Christmas hasn't been exactly an easy time for me for various reasons and I tend to get the holiday blues pretty bad, and for a long old while New Years has felt very similar. I'm doing my best to feel hopeful and to have some faith for the new year, but it's turning out to be trickier than I anticipated. So I wanted to ask for suggestions as to do anything that could help feeling more hopeful, I dunno. :3

Though feel free to ignore this if you don't have the energy for it. I hope you had delightful holiday however you celebrated!!! 😊💖💖💖💖

Hey anon! (it’s now afternoon here in the UK, and it was morning when I started this! I got a bit carried away). I don’t know that I’m necessarily the right person to ask about this, but here are some ideas of things I’ve found helpful/centring/calming anyway which you could draw from. Other folks, please feel free to chime in with your favourite ways to put the old year to bed and welcome in the new one!

(first of all, I’m sending you lots of virtual ghostli hugs to help drive away those holiday blues. That sucks, and I’m so sorry it’s been so tough for you.)

Here’s a rundown of what’s below, and I’ll put in a ‘keep reading’ so that it’s not an incredibly long post! Some of it is more on the ‘spiritutal’ side of things, and others are just mundane and practical things.

Congratulate yourself on making it through the clusterfuck that was 2020

Make some tea and meditate on what’s been and what you wish for

Go outside, be still, and breathe deeply

Let go of negative events and thoughts by writing them down, then safely burning the paper

Disconnect from social media for a few days (or however long you’re comfortable with)

Start a bullet journal

Write lists of goals for 2021 and then refine/distill them down to 3 manageable objectives

Commit 100% to 6 months of positive change

Pick three dates/months in the year when good things will happen, and make them happen (including growing veg/fruit)

Light a candle on the full moon or New Year

Ok, so, first of all, you’ve made it through this year!! That’s no small accomplishment, given the sheer volume of absolute shite that has been flung at us from all angles, no matter where in the world you live. Celebrate that. Seriously, I’m not being flippant. Take a moment of stillness wherever you are, be ‘present’, and just think about the fact that you’re here, right now, reading this post. Not everyone is here any more for one reason or another, but you did it. Congratulate yourself and celebrate that. Treat yourself to a slice of cake (or something you really enjoy) specifically to celebrate making it through 2020.

Make a cup of tea (try a new blend or recipe perhaps, or stick with your absolute favourite), or make a comforting drink of your choice. As you pour the water into the cup, breathe in the steam and enjoy the scent of it. Try and imbue all the positive things - memories, achievements, moments etc. - that you encountered this year into the tea/drink, and think about them growing in strength as the tea steeps, and envisage them continuing on to next year too. When you drink the tea, you take the positive thoughts into yourself and they become a part of you. You could try it in the morning with a caffeinated drink (if you enjoy those) and let it fuel you for the day, or you could try a herbal tea at night to let the good vibes steep overnight while you rest. Make it part of your daily routine; a private meditation.

Go outside and find a quiet spot somewhere and either stand or sit and just soak up the atmosphere. If there’s a tree nearby, think about the way its roots are planted in the earth, its trunk stands tall, and its branches reach towards the sky. Feel that space inside you. Breathe deeply in and out, visualising your lungs filling to the deepest parts, starting at the bottom. Count to four for each inhale, and six out (or whatever you’re comfortable with, so long as the exhale is longer than the inhale). This will help to still you and calm you.

If you have something fireproof (can just be a ceramic bowl), take a piece of paper and make a moment to write down all the negative things about this year, using a pen that you’re comfortable with. If you’re not one for words, draw pictures. You can make it really beautiful or just scribble it all down - it doesn’t matter. Get that shit out. Look at it for a while and read it through, mentally letting go of each thing as your eyes pass over it, then light one corner (carefully!!!) and let it burn somewhere with good ventilation (a cooker hood is good for that, but outside is better). Visualise all that negativity being swallowed by the universe and let it go. My favourite line from the Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf comes at Beowulf’s funeral when a Geat woman is singing her grief at his passing to the sky, and there’s the simple sentence: “Heaven swallowed the smoke.” How beautiful is that? The sky swallowed up her grief as she poured it out to the universe. The negativity might take some time to vanish from your life (it’s not going to disappear at the same time as the paper, sadly!), but watching it go can be the first stage of letting things go. I did this last year, and I’m only just letting go of the last things on that list, but it was a start, and it made me feel more at peace.

Disconnect from social media. I know that with so much more happening online this year out of necessity, we’ve become even more dependant on our phones and computers, and it’s wonderful that we have this chance to connect with people when we can’t see them face to face, but social media can also act as a crucible for negative feelings. People usually post the best or the worst aspects of what’s going on for them or what they care about, so it leads to a skewed view of both the world and of what’s going on amongst our connections. It’s easy to start feeling insignificant next to someone else because of their achievements or their looks etc. and it’s also easy to start to get a bleak outlook when the news is full of terrible stories and people are reacting to it in a volatile and often knee-jerk way. Take some time off - uninstall the apps, or put the limiter setting on, or just step back - for a day, two days, a week, whatever you’re comfortable with. It doesn’t have to be forever. If you use those platforms to talk to people, tell them what you’re doing, and give them another way to reach you if they need. No need to isolate yourself completely!! Think about how you felt before you started it (write it down?) and do the same afterwards, and compare. If it didn’t work for you, then that’s fine too.

Start a bullet journal! Now is the perfect time to start bullet journaling. I first started this year when I felt like time was slipping through my fingers and my life was out of my control, and it’s really helped me to get a sense of order back. It’s not the magic cure-all for procrastinators and time wasters, trust me, but it can help to organise your mind as well as your day, and keep track of your habits etc. It can be literally whatever tool you need it to be. There’s a trend on social media - particularly Instagram and YouTube - that shows off these gorgeous journals that are basically works of art in themselves, and while it’s absolutely fine to aspire to that if you want to, the essential point of the bullet journal is to be a tool. You can buy print-outs from Etsy if you don’t fancy doing your own spreads. But don’t get completely hung up on pretty spreads and layouts because you won’t use it fully then. If you’ve got ‘new book fear’, like I did, make your own! I literally started my journaling by folding a few pieces of paper over, slapping a few stickers on them to cheer them up, and writing some lists. I didn’t buy a ‘proper’ journal until July 2020 when I’d got the hang of what I wanted out of the tool, and how to use it. I adapted one or two things, and I’ll be changing one or two things for next year, but it was a good way to start.

Here are two ‘minimalist’ journals and styles that I found helpful when setting mine up. They focus on usefulness and practicality, rather than overwhelming, artistic spreads and cutesy designs. I’m about to do a ‘plan with me 2021’ journal video for YouTube, so I’ll put that up when I’ve finished it, in case that’s helpful.

Elsa Rhae

Pick Up Limes

Write down the things you want to achieve for 2021. These can be more abstract concepts like ‘more organised’ ‘healthier’ ‘start a business’ etc. Then, when you’ve got as many things as you’d ideally love to achieve/accomplish/manifest (don’t hold back at that stage), take another piece of paper and choose a maximum of six from that first lot to focus on, and below that, choose just three absolutely essential things to focus on. Make those your things for 2021.

Now, this one is a personal one for me, so it may not be applicable at all to you/others, but I’ll share it anyway. For me, I need to make some significant lifestyle changes for my physical and mental health. So, I’ve decided to commit to 6 months of really hard work to bring about those changes. Time is going to pass anyway, from January to June. Six months will come and go anyway. Where will I be in six months’ time? I could be physically and mentally exactly where I am today. That thought is super depressing to me. Or, I could devote 200% focus, commitment, and energy, and bring about those changes, and be the ‘me’ I want to be in six months’ time.

It’s like the adage of ‘given a week to write a speech, it will take you a week, but given a day to write the same speech, it will take you a day’ - your brain will tell you it takes the amount of time that you have at hand to accomplish the task, and that’s simply how long it then takes. Use those three things from the 2021 list above, and commit to making those three things happen.

As an aside, tell someone (whose opinions you value) that you’re going to do this. By telling someone, you’re helping to cement the idea in reality, and you’ve got a support to turn to if it gets rocky, someone to cheer you on, and someone to celebrate with who knew what a struggle and commitment this was to you in the first place.

Pick three points in the year where good things will happen. Book yourself something nice, save up for something and have it delivered then, or tell yourself that you will have achieved [x] by May, or September, or December. For me, it’s a working draft of my novel, and certain health goals by October, but make it yours, and keep those points fixed in your mind. It will help 2021 not to be one amorphous mass of time, and will give it structure and form. You could also choose to grow something in a pot - lots of vegetables can be grown cheaply from seed in a pot on a windowsill, and you’ll have something tasty to eat at the end of it!!

Here’s a slightly gentler idea to finish with:

On New Year’s Eve take a moment to yourself, go outside if it’s not raining or too cold etc., light a candle, hold it (safely) in your hands, and be still. It doesn’t have to be exactly at midnight, but it will help your focus if it’s dark. Otherwise, go to a quiet part of the house and turn the lights down so that the candle flame is your focus. As before, think about what you’ve achieved this year, and be honest, not just negative! It’s very easy to say ‘oh I didn’t achieve anything, it all sucks, it was all awful’, when there will be tiny victories tucked away in there, I promise you, even if it was the toughest year of your life. Then think about where you are at the moment, mentally and physically. Acknowledge that state of being. Look at it with honest eyes. This moment is not for anyone else, so you don’t need to colour it one way or another. It’s for you. If you’re finding it hard not to be negative, be neutral. Let those thoughts come and go, and then turn your mind to the future. Mentally feed those negative thoughts into the flame in front of you, one at a time. Say it out loud if that helps, but do what makes you comfortable. Let the light from the flame fill your mind and your heart, and think about your intentions for the new year.

Tonight (30th Dec) is a full moon, so if that is significant for you, you may wish to do this tonight instead of tomorrow.

I hope that some of that gives you some inspiration, and I hope that people will chime in with their own new year’s rituals and habits. Be honest with yourself but not harsh, and be positive but not unrealistic. This year has been one hell of a ride, and we’re not done yet... Here in the UK, we’ve got the highest numbers of Covid that we’ve ever had, we’re in the harshest lock down (Tier 4) and can’t visit anyone, and we’re also going through Brexit (which is proving a nightmare for everyone, especially small businesses...).

Control the things you can control, and learn and employ systems to ride out the things that are beyond your influence. And take heart - you have a family of folks on here, all across the world!

#new year ritual #new year #resolutions #new year resolutions #rituals #ritual

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spicycreativity · 3 years ago

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Fanfic Appreciation Week Day 7: A Place Where I Can Breathe

Yes, folks, I'm appreciating my own darn fanfic for the final day of Fanfic Appreciation Week because I worked really hard on it and it was a labor of love for/with one of my QPPs, my roommate, the man who got me into Sanders Sides: @\cadeorade-powercade (That's him in the aesthetic board)

Allow me to present the director's commentary for A Place Where I Can Breathe:

Content Warnings: All content warnings mentioned in the fic apply.

Chapter 1: I actually wrote this fairly late in the game. It's meant to serve as a prologue and orient the viewer in the universe, s opposed to staring on Chapter 2, which just throws the viewer in without context. I think it was a good choice, as it also allowed me to introduce the concept of the Sides having power focuses early on.

The Premise: Cade is a Virgil stan and he was getting frustrated looking for Virgil fic. He was finding a lot of stuff written without nuance by young authors, a sort of "by teenagers for teenagers" type deal. We are not teenagers, so we both have a hard time relating to that kind of teen angst fic, as we're not the target audience. So he asked me to write him a Virgil fic and we worked together to identify what plot he wanted, what the Mindscape looked like, and what quirks the Sides have. So a lot of this fic is quite gratuitous and self-indulgent

The Title: Lizzie McAlpine has a song called "Apple Pie" which includes the lyric "I've been running around trying to find a place where I can breathe." Apple Pie SCREAMS Moceit to me, and I had taken notice of the lyric and wanted to use it as the title for a Moceit fic. I didn't really have an idea beyond that, and when Cade asked me to write this fic, I realized it was actually perfect and summed up Virgil's inner struggle quite nicely. So cheers to "A Place Where I Can Breathe," the Moceit Fic That Wasn't

-Cade asked me specifically to include Virgil having a spider and I wrote nearly the whole fic without doing so, then had to go back and sprinkle some references in. I think I managed 2 total.

Chapter 2:

"Uh, how about I hold off on that until I actually see my room?" Virgil stared expectantly at Roman, who bounced on his toes. "Lead on, Macduff."

"That's not the line and you know it," Roman complained, but he turned to lead Virgil to his room. "It's ' lay on, Macduff,' and--"

-This fic was originally supposed to reach a climax with a confrontation between Remus and Roman, and "lay on, Macduff" would come back as a brick joke. Unfortunately, the original ending was a result of me getting tired and lazy, so I had to go back and fix it, and we lost the Roman-Remus confrontation.

It was hard for Virgil to not shudder at the sudden heat and weight on him. With his senses already open and taking in more information than his brain seemed to want to process, touch was an added stressor, more unwanted sensory input.

-Virgil being touch-averse is a direct shoutout to Cade, who is also touch-averse.

Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV.

-Upon first writing, Virgil had already given the upstairs crew his name, so the banner spelled out "VIRIGL" which is way funnier than "ANXEITY." But then his name reveal became a plot point so I had to go back and change it.

-Let! Virgil! Be! Mean!

-Virgil's line about hearing refrigerator noise when Roman talks is another shout-out to Cade, who has leveled that accusation at me

A small, cruel part of him protested at the idea that he would need special treatment and desperately wanted to throw it back in Patton's face. He wasn't a sweetheart, he wasn't a baby. He didn't need to crawl into a blanket fort with Dad just because he was a little stressed.

-Remus calls Janus "Janus Geminus" because I was tired and couldn't come up with a pun. "Geminus" is one of the Roman god Janus' epithets; another is "Pater" meaning "Father." That led to a conversation about Remus deliberately confusing Patton by calling Janus "Daddy," but I couldn't think of a clean way to fit the explanation into the narrative, so I stuck with "Geminus."

Chapter 3:

"There's nothing normal about that! " Roman stared in horror at the coffee massacre Virgil had orchestrated. What had once been a respectable (if not very tasty) cup of black coffee was now part of a 1:1 coffee to milk suspension, the liquid a tasteful shade of tan suitable for business casual trousers or a show-ready chihuahua.

-Cade is a certified Nightmare Man and came up with Virgil's horrifying coffee order after I asked him about it. Keep an eye out for Janus' equally horrifying coffee order later in the fic.

1) Shouts out the fact that Janus is canonically a Dostoevsky fan

Chapter 4:

Janus smiled at him. "Where reason fails, the Devil helps." He fussed with his gloves and straightened his capelet. "It's showtime."

-I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Look at me. Look at me. I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Janus' quoting Raskolnikov serves multiple purposes:

2) Lampshades the fact that Roman just conveniently happened to be alone in the living room, because I didn't want to waste time getting him there. That makes me, the author, the Devil

3) Foreshadows the impending disaster. When Raskolnikov says this line it is because he had planned to commit axe murder. The axe he was planning to steal had been moved, but he finds another, different axe to use. Raskolnikov messes up the murder and ends up killing an innocent witness in addition to his intended target. Janus messes up his manipulation attempt and ends up murdering Roman's self esteem

-I was going to include a reference to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (Remus' line "debauchery and vomit" was originally going to be "blood, love, and rhetoric") but I didn't because... Uh... Hm. Why didn't I do that. Maybe I just forgot about it???

-Roman is too stubborn to manipulate for long and that is a fact.

"I was pretty much done anyway," Remus said. "There's only so much debauchery and vomit you can fit into one story."

-Cade specifically ask me that nobody cry in this fic, but after I had Janus eviscerate Roman I knew he couldn't not cry a little. I kept it to a minimum because there's already a billion fucking fics about [literally any Side] crying on the shoulder of [literally any other Side] and it's really just not interesting to either of us.

-It didn't come up because it doesn't matter, but Thomas dreamed he was participating in the exact Dionysian orgy that took place in The Secret History because it's my fic and I said so.

Chapter 5:

He just sat back and watched and tugged at his hair while Janus spooned mound after mound of crisp white sugar into his mug and Virgil poured his customary eight fluid ounces of milk into his own mug.

-Cade strikes again. Virgil's coffee order is equal amounts milk to coffee; Janus' is equal parts sugar to coffee. He had asked me to include a scene where Roman catches Janus massacring his coffee and is appropriately horrified, but I uhh... Didn't write it. I still might include it as an omake someday.

-I imagine that Roman feels really strongly about dragons vs wyverns, and Remus just pretends to give a shit because he thinks it's funny to wind Roman up. Fortunately for me but unfortunately for my sense of realism in writing, I can't relate because I adore my sister and we get along perfectly almost 100% of the time.

"You shut us down every chance you get!" Remus said, baring his teeth. "How would you like it if your pens never wrote, hm? What would you do with all those thoughts in your head?"

-I do wish I had developed the concept of power focuses a bit more, established rules and such. Basically, Patton is always on the prowl for wrongthink and actively represses it, which in turn breaks or sabotages the Dark Sides' power focus.

Chapter 6: This chapter really should have been Janus and Roman but I was really tired and didn't want to bother with it. Plus, you know, Moceit. This chapter was meant to demonstrate how the characters would get along without Virgil nannying them. There's friction, but everyone is making a conscious, deliberate effort to get along because they love Virgil, and love is a series of choices you make.

I chose "Leo" as the answer for the answer to the crossword clue instead of "Virgo," because my other QPP is a Leo. She'll never read this fic, but I did it anyway because I love her. (Trivia: My sign is Virgo, so it was really a choice between shouting her out and shouting me out, and the last chapter is self-indulgent enough, thank you).

Chapter 7: I was gonna write a fic where all the Sides watched Cats the Musical because I was going through a phase. Then Cade requested this so I combined the two ideas. By this point I was fucking exhausted, and that's the only thing that saved you and the rest of the world from me writing the Sides riffing on the movie scene-by-scene. I could come up with snarky commentary for almost every, if not every single song from the movie.

Most notably, I cut a Patton-Remus interaction where Remus declares his love for Grizabella and Patton gets all staryy-eyed about Remus connecting with the idea of rising above rejection and being loved and accepted only for Remus to shoot him down and explain that he just likes that she got to die in a tire fire.

Other cut scenes include Janus quietly pretending not to go feral over Mister Mistoffelees, Patton full-on fucking sobbing over Grizabella and the kittens, and Logan experiencing a deep, soulful kinship with Munkustrap during Of The Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollices (and henceforth introducing the phrase "like herding cats" into his regular vocabulary

#spicypost #fanfic appreciation week

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jaskiersvalley · 5 years ago

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Hello! I enjoy your little snippets so much-- have push notifications on for you so I'm sure to always them. I wondered, you didn't mention it specifically in a list of NSFW stuff you Don't write, but I know it's very out there/fringe for most folk, but do you ever write omorashi? One of my favs, on the NSFW scene. No worries if no! Not everyone's cup of tea, and I still like your stuff really well still. Keep up the good work! Thanks for sharing with us! 🪕🐺

In the interest of complete honesty, I will admit that this is the first time I’ve ever written anything even close to this. Tentacles? Eggs? Knots? No problem, all stuff I’ve written before. Omorashi? That’s a new one. So I’ve done the only thing I could, went and read a lot (my eyes have been opened) and chatted to some people who know about omorashi. Fingers crossed this is the kind of thing you were hoping for!

Under a cut for, well, omorashi.

Some villages were more welcoming than others. The one Geralt and Jaskier had found themselves in was a rather jovial one, celebrating the fact their crops would no longer be ruined by a wyvern. They had paid Geralt, offered him a room and ale flowed freely while Jaskier played. Such rare merriment had been going on for a few hours and, as much as Jaskier loved an audience and drinking, even he needed a break. And he wanted to nip out to take a leak behind the tavern like any civil gentleman. Because the ale had been plentiful, the partons generous with their coin both directly and indirectly. To say that Jaskier was a little buzzed was an understatement. He was merrily drunk and in high spirits.

His plans were a little waylaid when he sauntered to Geralt’s corner where there was quite a collection of tankards, empty. A small “whoop” left Jaskier when Geralt snagged him around the waist and pulled him into his lap, back to chest. Straddling his thighs was easy enough and Jaskier laughed.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he said and patted Geralt on the arm. However, he was pinned.

“Have one more drink.” The words were purred in his ear and Jaskier was hard pressed to resist.

“I will, but I need to piss first. Make room and all that.”

Warm, soft lips pressed behind his ear. “One more drink? For me?”

Memories of a conversation from before floated to Jaskier’s mind. How Geralt had in a roundabouts way expressed an interest in such things and been so mortified to admitting them that straight after, he went and destroyed a harpy nest in record time. Without potions. Executive decision made, Jaskier grabbed the tankard from the table and took a few mouthfuls.

“Anything for you,” he purred and turned to sloppily kiss Geralt. It was actually quite fun, making out and stopping from time to time to drink a little more. Half the tankard in, Jaskier was squirming, uncomfortable at how heavy his bladder felt. But each time he drank a little more, he could feel Geralt’s breath hitch and there was a definite erection pressing against his back.

“Finish the tankard for me in one go.”

It was both a request and a challenge which was something Jaskier never could back down from. Tipping his head back, he chugged the rest of the ale and burped a little at the end. There was no way he could drink any more and he was going to have to get up soon.

His breeches felt too tight and he reached to undo the laces at least, proprietary be damned. Everyone was drunk anyway, some loose breeches wouldn’t even be noticed. Hands swatted Jaskier’s away as he tried to relieve some of the pressure.

“Don’t.” It was a growl of a warning, Geralt’s hands warm and possessive over him. Usually, it would have been wonderful but Jaskier was starting to feel sensitive all over as his bladder pressed outward.

“It hurts,” he whined and was surprised when Geralt reached to undo the laces himself.

Leaning back against Geralt helped a little, Jaskier pressed his back against a firm, warm chest and squirmed. He tried to press his legs together but Geralt’s thighs were in the way. Before he could move, one hand was pressed to his chest, the other rested over his distended belly. Even worse, Geralt spread his thighs, forcing Jaskier’s thighs to spread wider.

“Geralt!” Jaskier whined, shivering as he tried to think of anything but how much he needed to take a leak. All of his focus was eaten up by it though, the pressure building up which was made worse when the hand on his stomach pressed down a little. It made Jaskeir jerk, the movement causing a small patch of wetness in his clothes.

Humiliation flushed through Jaskier and he squirmed, Geralt’s cock against his back all but forgotten. He couldn’t let go, not in a tavern, not in Geralt’s lap. It was embarrassing but by the same token, Jaskier couldn’t get enough of the low, rumbling growls of pleasure that were buried in the crook of his neck as Geralt rocked up against him. Another push and a command of “let go” and Jaskier couldn’t hold on anymore. The wet patch grew as his bladder emptied, the trickle turning into a gush. It drenched his thighs and pooled under him, soaking Geralt too.

It felt too good, the relief of pressure, the way his whole body relaxed from where it had been so tense. Under him, Geralt’s hips jerked up as he came with a grunt and Jaskier let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. They were in the corner of an inn, drenched in piss and come, the stairs just behind them. It was almost like Geralt had planned it, plotting their route back upstairs once their little scene had concluded.

There was no hiding his darkened breeches and Jaskier bit his lip, trying to figure out the least conspicuous way to beat a retreat. He didn’t expect Geralt to heft him up, uncaring of holding up Jaskier under his thighs like a blushing bride, cooling piss soaking through from breeches to Geralt’s arm. Being carried up the stairs to their shared room, Jaskier allowed himself to be stripped and washed down with a warm cloth while praise was piled on top of him.

“Next time,” he murmured, “we’re trying it the other way round.”

Given how dark Geralt’s eyes went, Jaskier suspected they’d be trying it soon.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #tldr: what it says on the tin - geraskier omorashi #cw: omorashi

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bard-llama · 4 years ago

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I apologize for using "being needlessly mean to people (specifically, you) on the internet" as a means of venting, but I'm still gonna do it anyway

Fuck it fam, I’ll jump off anon since you called me out on it. At least now I can write a proper response since I’m not trying to cram my wording into an ask’s character limit. Maybe now I can focus more on my actual points instead of spending 75% of the space reaching my post-ly Asshole Quota™

Also, there’s a TL;DR one paragraph from the bottom, in case you’d like to be Spared My Bullshit™ without skipping it entirely.

Anyways, responses to numbers:

1: Who chose it then lol, given that this exchange stemmed from a post about chosen names. You say you’ve “professionally been Llama for over a decade”, so it obviously isn’t your birth name. And if you say “X person suggested it to me”, then -you chose- to use that suggestion.

2: Fine, let me be more clear: “Obligation to respect someone’s name” only goes as far as recognizing it as their name. I’ll gladly call you Llama if that’s what you say your name is, but I’ll still say Llama was a hella dumb name choice given that the animal the word refers to is most well known for having ugly teeth & spitting on people. (And you can’t even say ‘akshually, there’s another, better-as-a-name meaning of the word and that’s how I chose it’, given your profile pic). Criticism, however harsh or mean-spirited, isn’t disrespect. You wouldn’t say “you can’t call out right-wing Christians on their homophobia because that’d disrespect their religious beliefs!”, y'know?

Also lol, as someone whose own non-English name constantly gets mispronounced by rightey-whitey Americans, I can tell you that I actually take language & culture of origin into account for this stuff. Like as an example, “Daiben” would both be easy to pronounce and not read as “silly-sounding” to an English-only speaker, but it’d be a -fuckawful- name for a Japanese person given that it literally means “shit” in that language. In turn, I’m sure there’s some language out there where “Poopoo” translates to “full of energy” or something similarly nice, meaning even though it’d sound ridiculous at first to someone who only speaks English, it’d be a perfectly fine name for someone who grew up in that language’s culture.

I only make fun of people who pick existing words whose meanings make for utterly terrible names for a person, or people like Elon Musk who name themselves/their kid a literal keysmash. People who make fun of “foreign-sounding” names just cuz said names sound silly to them are assholes in the “irredeemably bad” way, not the “tough love” way.

3: So I guess by your view, it’s inherently wrong to call Nazis absolute pieces of filth who’d be better off dead if they can’t be re-educated, because in doing so we’d be being an asshole to said diehard Nazis?

Also lol, I -absolutely- have a right to decide what being an idiot means to me. I’m allowed to have opinions, lol. And while I may not be -obligated- to try to stop what I perceive as idiocy, it’s certainly within my personal autonomy to decide to try anyway for whatever underlying reason I want.

And yeah, my whole point was that just because they aren’t openly being a dick to you about it doesn’t mean they don’t privately think it’s a dumb name lol. Unlike those potentially-dishonest people, if I think someone is doing something dumb I’m not gonna hold back saying so just for the sake of their feefees.

TL:DR Obligated respect only goes as far as recognition, criticism isn’t disrespect even if said criticism is snide/assholey/etc. I can recognize & respect that your name is Llama while still saying “but seriously dude that was a -terrible- choice”. Also, remember that on this site we’ve pretty much collectively agreed that rather than respond to their calls of “calmly debate me!”, it’s better to insult & punch & generally be assholes to Nazis to get them to stop their bullshit. You’d be foolish to try to label that as “inherently wrong” action to take.

Also PS: As for the “Why this”, it’s because very nearly all of my time is “free time” nowadays, so I no longer have any sense of task priority. Something grabbing my attention enough to inspire my own response (such as the initial post chain on this topic) is liable to cause me to remain engaged with it longer than most folks would, simply because I literally have nothing better to do. Granted, there’s a lot of fucked up shit underpinning how I got to that point, but I’m not gonna send you a TMI wall-of-text explaining the psychology & trauma that goes into someone becoming my sort of internet troll, at least not unless you go “no fam actually I’m -really- curious as to how someone gets that fucked in the head.”

Wow, this is a ride, buddy. You’re a self-admitted asshole, so I don’t imagine that my response will do much but WOW.

1) Not that it’s any of your business, but the name Llama was given to me.

2) You literally admit that you make fun of people for their name. What the fuck is wrong with you??? You’re a fucking bully and you sound proud of it.

“Criticism, however harsh or mean-spirited, isn’t disrespect.” Yes it is???? First off, there’s no criticism here. Criticism is intended to help someone improve, especially in skills. My fucking name isn’t something you can criticize. What you’re doing is just straight up being a dick and yeah, extremely disrespectful.

“Also lol, as someone whose own non-English name constantly gets mispronounced by rightey-whitey Americans, I can tell you that I actually take language & culture of origin into account for this stuff.” So what you’re saying is you’ll respect people whose names you view as “valid”, but no one else. Which boils down to the same thing - you’re a fucking dick. You don’t get to decide whose name is valid and whose isn’t. You don’t get to decide that a name is only “good” when it comes from one language vs another. It’s literally not your fucking business where people’s names come from???

What’s funny to me is that people have no problem using “silly nicknames” on the internet, but as soon as it’s applied to reality, suddenly it’s untenable? Guess what? Some people actually go outside and experience reality and when it comes down to it? They don’t fucking care how “silly” your name is, they’ll just use it because it’s your fucking name.

Like, I really don’t know how to emphasize this more: making fun of someone’s name FOR ANY REASON makes you a bully and an asshole. Period.

“People who make fun of “foreign-sounding” names just cuz said names sound silly to them are assholes in the “irredeemably bad” way, not the “tough love” way.” There is no difference here. Literally, both categories of asshole are bullies and are out of line. Additionally, I don’t fucking know you and you have no right to apply your ‘tough love’ bullying.

3) “So I guess by your view, it’s inherently wrong to call Nazis absolute pieces of filth who’d be better off dead if they can’t be re-educated, because in doing so we’d be being an asshole to said diehard Nazis?” Where the fuck did you even get this take from?? What I said is that everyone deserves to have their name respected. Period. How you bring that to nazis says more about YOUR views than mine. But for the record: deciding that some people “deserve” to have their names made fun of makes you no better. One hopes that you aren’t advocating for the elimination of marginalized groups, but frankly, your views are the first step towards that. When you decide that there is a group for whom it’s “acceptable” to bully and make fun of, you are taking a first step towards what is called eugenics when it’s systemic. Fortunately, I imagine you have no power to make things systemic, considering you get your jollies harassing people on the internet.

“And while I may not be -obligated- to try to stop what I perceive as idiocy, it’s certainly within my personal autonomy to decide to try anyway for whatever underlying reason I want.” No??? Like, what the fuck??? You perceive my name as idiocy and therefore try to... what? Make me ashamed of it? Make me hate myself? Exactly what gives you the fucking right? You have a right to personal autonomy, sure. That also means that you have to face the consequences for that autonomy. And here are the consequences for this: you bullying people over their names makes you a fucking jackass. It doesn’t matter where the line you say is “acceptable” for a name is - you’ve arbitrarily decided that YOUR autonomy is more important than theirs.

“Unlike those potentially-dishonest people, if I think someone is doing something dumb I’m not gonna hold back saying so just for the sake of their feefees.” Once again, this is called being a dick. Period. First off, you have no idea what the people in my life think about my name. Secondly, there’s this little thing called courtesy wherein you aren’t a fucking asshole to people. Sounds basic, I know, but apparently this is beyond you.

Literally, what someone calls themselves isn’t your fucking business. Your obligation is to use someone’s name as they present it and THAT’S IT! You don’t follow it up with “hey, by the way, your name is stupid”. Why the fuck would you do that? It’s not about “feefees” it’s about being a respectable member of a community. Because guess what? When all you do is insult other people, you find yourself ostracized from the community and on your own when you need help.

But what would I know? I’m just a “stupid” Llama.

Also? Get a fucking life. It takes 0 effort to just keep scrolling rather than reach out an insulting people for no fucking reason. I never asked for your opinion and frankly, I don’t care what you think.

tl;dr: You’re an admitted asshole who bullies people who you decide do not deserve respect based purely on their name. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Existing in society, in a community, means having basic respect and care for others - and means NOT bullying people over shit. Like, literally, just keep your thoughts to yourself??? It’s not that fucking hard???

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