#a complex historical figure for sure

[flowersarefreetherapy]

Who is John Laurens?

Oh my dear, dear Raccoon, you have just opened a can of worms that I am so excited to share with you!!! Um . . . this is my special interest, have fun its an essay!!

(content warning for discussions of race-based slavery in the Americas, childhood death, self-harm/suicidal ideations)

So John Laurens was born in South Carolina as the second oldest son of Congressman Henry Laurens, and was referred to as the oldest child after his three oldest siblings all died before he was six (only five of the Laurens children would survive into young adulthood). Henry Laurens was a co-founder of the South Carolina company that imported the most amount of enslaved people near the middle of the 18th century and his wife Eleanor was the daughter of another rich plantation owner, so John grew up in a life of luxury that was built off the sweat and blood of people who were denied rights. 

(quick little note in here, when John was 12, Henry wrote to a friend saying how proud he was of John for focusing only on his studies and not being distracted by the local girls, like all the other boys were. It’s a beyond hilarious letter, given what happened in John’s later years)

When John was about 13-14, Henry took him and his two brothers to London so they could receive the best education possible, as education in the American colonies was not as good as what European education systems provided (if you were a white man only). After two years there, Henry returned to South Carolina to look after his daughters, as his wife passed and they were staying with relatives. This meant that John, at barely 16 years old, was taking care of his two younger brothers–Harry, who was about 14, and James (Jemmy) who was 10. John handled his responsibilities well, even if he did struggle a bit with managing money, but tragedy hit when his youngest brother Jemmy fell one winter, hit his head, and died in his sleep. It was one of the pivotal moments in John’s life that shaped how he treated younger men he met and pushed him to want to be the perfect son for his father. 

John went into legal study instead of becoming a doctor out of that desire to be the perfect son. He studied for several years in Geneva and formed many close relationships with a few of his peers. We don’t have information on how far those relationships went, but we know he was involved in at least two during his years studying there. When he moved back to London, he ended up meeting a woman named Martha and getting her pregnant. Though they would get married, John would leave for the American colonies months later, would never respond to the dozens of letters she sent him, and never met his daughter, Francis. So. There’s a lot of speculation about why he had a relationship with her when she was the only close relationship he had with a woman outside of family and he never wrote her back or seemed to highly value their legal status as husband and wife. The emotions and reasons of everyone involved there is a historical mystery.

But anyway! John is in the colonies! There’s a war! There’s no time to think about silly things like women and college! There’s killing to be done! John Laurens was signed on as one of George Washington’s aides-de-camp, which is where he met a young, driven, determined young man from the Caribbean named Alexander Hamilton. The two of them hit it off right away. They were both smart, desperate for glory in battle, and connected through their shared belief in abolition. An unusual stance for someone of John’s background to take, but he was determined to bring abolition to the colonies, specifically his home state of South Carolina, and he would spend the next 7 so years trying to turn that dream into a reality. He went as far as to ask for his inheritance in the form of Henry freeing the enslaved people who would have been given to him (Henry said no and it sparked a lot of debate between the two of them). So the war is happening. John spends a lot of time between fighting in the north and leading skirmishes in the south. It's from his campaigns in the south that we have the famed Hamilton-Laurens letters that everyone loves so much (I am everyone. That includes me, I will admit it)

John tended to forget people existed if they were not right next to him (which would explain the situation with Martha) and so his letters to Alexander are very sparse, whereas Alexander would write him a letter every week, sometimes even three times in one week. Alexander’s letters are dramatic, full of hope for the future and lots of admiration for John that is very flowery even for the standards of the time. Unfortunately for us, there are portions of these letters that have been burned or torn out, so there is speculation that the contents explicitly stating love that moved beyond friendship and prose, and into revealing an actual relationship. However, it is sadly a very recent trend to focus on queer history, so a lot of their letters have been watered down or outright ignored. There is also a struggle between wanting to use terms that we are familiar with and knowing that, to quote my history professor, that the past is a foreign country and we are just visiting. So to apply modern labels to something such as sexuality when there is no concrete evidence is a heavily debatable stance, especially with the importance of someone choosing how they want to be identified and not having those labels forced on them.

(that being said, I do think the evidence points us to Alexander Hamilton being at least bisexual. He had serious romantic feelings towards both men and women throughout his life, including John Laurens–regardless of whether or not those feelings were returned in that case. John remains an enigma there, though most scholars place him somewhere in the gay category)

Anyway, returning to John from my little tangent. He kept fighting and getting hurt and going out and fighting and getting hurt. The Marquis de Lafayette, who was the youngest member of their trio, wrote in a letter that there was only one battle in which John did not get wounded, though not for the lack of trying (funnily enough, it was the only battle in which Lafayette did get wounded). This leads to the same discussion as sexuality being applied with looking at the mental health of historical figures. At this point in the historical conversations, many historians are in agreement that John was at the least clinically depressed, possibly suicidal. The proof for these claims are evidenced in the way he did not take care of himself at all. He did do exactly as Lafayette wrote; there is not a battle he was in where he was not stabbed or shot. This coupled with a few things he wrote in letters to his uncle when he was younger reveal a young man who struggled with serious depression and a lack of regard towards his own life and safety. It would be this disregard that would ultimately get him killed on August 27, 1782, when the idiot man decided against General Greene’s orders to attack a nearby British foraging group. Did I also mention he was suffering from a severe fever at the time? The American soldiers would be horribly outnumbered and John was killed. He had made serious progress towards integrating the Continental Army in the south and was in conversation with the government of South Carolina to create a battalion of formerly enslaved people. However, after his death, those strides towards abolition in South Carolina were swiftly buried. 

John Laurens’ death greatly impacted those closest to him. Henry Laurens was devastated by the loss of another child and would remove himself fully from politics a few years later. The Marquis de Lafayette would write that John was one of the best and bravest men he knew. George Washington would echo the same sentiments, saying John’s only flaw was his recklessness. And his death emotionally broke some part of Alexander. From the moment John died, Alexander would never form a close relationship with another man. He would have casual friendships, but never again did he have another relationship like he did with John (and if you want to cry, I suggest reading the last letter Alexander sent to John—which he never received because John was dead before the letter got to South Carolina. In it Alexander is all happy about the new country that’s being started and asking John to join him in making the new nation, saying “It requires all the virtue and all the abilities of the country. Quit your sword my friend, put on the toga, come to Congress. We know each others sentiments, our views are the same: we have fought side by side to make America free, let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy ....Yrs for ever, A Hamilton”)

(if that doesn’t make you cry, I don’t know what will)

Anyway, if anyone has read this far, thank you for reading my impromptu essay. Thank you for the question, Raccoon, and I hope this answers it!

[flawseer]

On Mudwing Culture

My last deliberation on Seawings and their eccentric insult vocabulary seemed to be well-received, so here is another one of my headcanons:

Mudwings are seriously into food.

I know, pretty revolutionary take when there is only a handful of named Mudwing characters, and two of them love eating so much that it either almost or entirely eclipses their personality.

But Clay and Ochre are not what I am talking about. This isn’t about a love of eating (though many Mudwings admittedly do have that). I’m suggesting that, out of all the tribes from Pyrrhia, Mudwings are at the forefront of food preparation and culinary innovation, to the point where a large part of their culture revolves around it.

The State of Food Preparation on the Continent

Pyrrhia as a conglomerate of different cultures largely sustains its populations through hunting and gathering. The average dragon, when the hunger pangs set in, will make a hasty trip into the nearest forest, cave, or scavenger den and round up some prey animals. In most cases, this prey will go straight from the talons to the mouth, or, if the hunter is a bit more forward-thinking, into the pantry, and then from talons to the mouth.

There are a few variations of this practice; Skywings may give the carcass a quick roast on an open flame before eating it, Sandwings may dry the meat out so the excess moisture does not upset their internal water balance, Rainwings will prefer fruit over meat. Icewings will nearly always consume their prey raw and unseasoned, as their extremely delicate palate is easily overwhelmed by intense flavors that may be released through cooking.

More complex forms of food preparation seem to exist mostly outside the scope of the general populace. The practice of “cooking” appears to be limited to the ranks of aristocracy, with dedicated cooks only found within the court of a queen or in private households of other high-born individuals. It creates a sharp divide between commoners and social elites, between the wealthy and (as Sea Queen Coral once put it so succinctly) the “eel-eating masses”. All exemplified through the differing standards of food.

And yet somehow, standing in stark contrast to everywhere else on the continent, nearly every Mudwing-- from the most low-born runts of the Diamond Spray Delta to the most decorated head advisors in the Queen’s palace --knows how to cook, and will do so regularly.

Why is that, and how did it happen?

Historical Benefits of Cooking

Most things that form the backbone of a culture usually start with some ancient practice that was useful at some point in time and then, as people kept doing it, eventually got absorbed into public awareness and became “the way things are done”.

Mudwings face a unique challenge compared to anyone else, as they are the only tribe whose combat prowess is significantly affected by their environment, specifically climate, weather, and temperature. Sure, you can take any dragon, drop them into an unfavorable climate, and they will generally perform worse than under normal circumstances. But the unique weakness of Mudwings is that they lose their breath weapon when they get too cold. Place an Icewing into a burning room and they will still be able to use their frost breath. Pluck a Sandwing from their dry environment and drop them into the humid, sweltering hell of the jungle, their natural weapons will still function. But make a Mudwing cower between two piles of snow for a while, and their internal fire will go out quickly.

As you might imagine, this is a bit of a liability when you have to defend your territory from Skywings hiding and scheming among the frozen peaks bordering your country.

So the ancient Mudwings had to figure out a solution to their conundrum, and what they came up with was this: They got a large pot and filled it with water, threw in all manner of meats, plants, and herbs, whatever they could find where they were holed up, then boiled it until it was good and filling. The hot food in their bellies helped them stay warm even at high altitudes and allowed them to stand their ground against the northwestern invaders.

Soon it became tradition for troops to share a hotpot the night before battle, and a rich variety of hearty broths and stews developed from there, as these were simple to make from scraps and could be reheated easily. The practice became so popular, the Mudwings kept doing it even during peacetime. Soon, in addition to the hunting of prey animals that was commonplace, Mudwings began to cultivate vegetable gardens to have access to a more stable supply of ingredients. Eventually, their growing understanding of agriculture allowed them to grow rice, which was especially well-suited to the abundance of wetlands found in their territory. Everyone was cooking now.

The Role of Food in Mudwing Society

If you ask several Mudwings which core values represent their tribe best, many would likely put forward some variation of “camaraderie”, “family”, or “loyalty to your sibs”. They are a very social people who form deep bonds with those whom they grew up with, and one of the most direct ways to grow close to someone is to share your meals with them every day. As such, the preparation and consumption of food is a vital part in maintaining cohesion between members of a Mudwing sibling group.

Every one of these groups will have a “Bigwings”, which is understood to be a combination of a leader and caretaker role. The Bigwings is aware of all of their sibs’ culinary preferences and needs and has all of the troop’s recipes memorized. When mealtime approaches, he or she makes the call on what kind of dish will be prepared and delegates roles and tasks to the troop. This is a daily exercise that builds the Bigwings’ authority and communication skills, and reinforces trust and familiarity between all siblings.

Next to the Bigwings is the Gatherer, which historically was a role assigned to one or more troop members who foraged for wild vegetables or hunted more prey if the previous communal hunt did not yield enough. While this is still true today, many Gatherers also maintain a garden or wet patch to source fresh vegetables or grain for meals.

And lastly there is the Communicator, which is a role usually assigned to the most social and charismatic sibling. The Communicator is vital for coordinating battle strategies with other troops, which, while very important, is not really all that relevant for this deliberation. What is relevant however, is the role they fulfill during peacetime, which is to set up joint meals between two or more sibling groups. This practice is critical for maintaining morale, as doing this regularly helps expand the troop’s palette and keep their Bigwings inspired. That way the troop’s collection of recipes stays fresh and innovative instead of turning stale and rigid.

Of course how much each troop values culinary exploits varies between individuals. Some Mudwing groups are outspokenly passionate about cooking and advancing their craft. They might view their work as an expression of art and get very upset or offended if you indicate that thinking about food is unimportant or a waste of time. Some extreme cases may even get angry at you if you waste ingredients or refuse to elevate a dish to its fullest potential by not seasoning it well or doing something else to ruin it. Other groups may be more relaxed and casual about food preparation, and a few might even not think about it much at all.

If a Mudwing invites you to dinner, it is paramount to figure out which of these groups they belong to beforehand, so you may get an understanding of how much of a threat this outing may pose to your health, especially if you are an Icewing or Seawing with a limited palate.

Is there any evidence for this in the books?

To my knowledge, there isn't much. Mostly because there isn't much about Mudwings and their culture in general. Across all the books, only one of them has a Mudwing protagonist, and the vast majority of it is spent in the Sky Kingdom, so his roots don't get a lot of exposure. Then whenever another Mudwing comes into the story, they tend to exit it very quickly after, without being able to share more.

I made this theory for myself largely in response to Mudwing culture being such a big question mark. I initially came up with it when I saw a Mudwing gardener in Escaping Peril and thought "That could be a cool direction for the tribe." The guidebook that released recently gave me some additional pointers with regards to a few of the looser points of this theory.

I'm hoping it is interesting, or at the very least entertaining in some way.

[room-surprise]

Laios is terrified of parenthood: Why?

Laios (Λάϊος) is an ancient Greek name. Sometimes it is translated as Laius, but these are both spellings of Λάϊος, which can also be transliterated as Láïos.

Laios comes from λαιϝός, from Proto-Indo-European lehiwos, and can mean left (the opposite of right), and awkward.

There are two mythological figures named Laios, but right now I'm going to focus on one of them: Oedipus' father, Laios the king of Thebes.

This mythical Laios did some particularly vile kidnapping, rape, and violated the laws of hospitality. As a result, he and his entire bloodline was cursed by the gods.

Laios’ sins are primarily focused around the violation of social taboos, engaging in inappropriate relationships, and being unable to restrain himself from hurting others with his actions. He is also depicted as rude and violent.

Laios’ punishment was that his son would someday kill him and marry his wife. In order to avoid this, he pierced his newborn son’s ankles so he would not be able to crawl, and abandoned him in the countryside to die. The child was found by shepherds, who took him to the nearest king, who adopted the boy and named him Oedipus, for his swollen feet.

When Oedipus was told by an oracle that he would kill his father and marry his mother, Oedipus, not knowing that he was adopted, immediately fled his home to avoid harming his beloved parents. While on the road, he encountered king Laios on a narrow road. Laios ordered Oedipus to move out of the way, and Oedipus hesitated too long, so the king nearly ran him over. Furious at Laios’ rudeness, Oedipus dragged him from his chariot and killed him.

The “Laios complex” in psychology is named after the character in the Oedipus myth, and it is described as when a father desires to kill his children, especially his sons, in order to leave behind no successors.

This name is a fascinating choice on Kui's part.

As a low-level nobleman in a historical setting, one of Laios' overarching life responsibilities is to marry a woman, reproduce, and make sure those children grow up to fill his position in society when he dies. Laios in Dungeon Meshi has a very bad relationship with his parents, especially his father, as well as issues with children and parenthood, and when you combine that with the subtext of his name indicating a fear of having children/sons, it paints a very interesting picture of our strange protagonist.

We know that one of Laios’ deepest psychological wounds, attacked by the nightmare clams, is his parents demanding he return home to the village and give them grandchildren. This is a recurring nightmare he has, so it must bother him significantly.

He also becomes so uncomfortable watching a loving father-baby interaction in the living paintings, that he can’t even try to eat food, even though he’s very hungry. This behavior makes no sense without the context of Laios' fear/aversion to father/child relationships.

Finally, in a “what if?” comic about reversing the character’s sexes, the idea that if Laios had been born a woman, he would have never left the village and have birthed children. Female Laios is shown holding a baby, looking miserable, and regular Laios seems quite upset. He says that the current timeline, despite everything that has gone wrong, is “the best one.”

This is speculation, but all of this taken together suggests that Laios may actually feel fear, disgust or revulsion towards the idea of having or raising children.

This could be because he doesn’t feel comfortable acting out the role of husband and father that he feels society demands of him, or because he’s afraid of hurting his children the way he was hurt by his parents, or it may simply be a visceral discomfort at the idea of reproduction, something which some people experience for a number of reasons.

This fear could even be taken as evidence (among other data points) suggesting that Laios might be asexual and/or aromantic, though these sort of fears are of course not unique to people on that spectrum.

Of course, none of this means that Laios could never, or would never have children, but it suggests that this fear is central to his character, and understanding this is important to understanding who Laios is, and why he does the things he does.

(This is an excerpt from Chapter 4 of my essay about the real world cultural and linguistic references in Dungeon Meshi! You can read it here.)

[sturnslcver]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ virulent love (series) ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— warnings, drinking, smoking, pills!

a/n: couldn’t figure out what i wanted to do for chris and y/n’s meet cute so it is heavily based off of a real life book i read, but ive already finished the rest of the story/chapters and it is all my own original ideas! enjoy! :)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

i creep up the stairs in search for my brothers apartment door. this place seems more like a historic hotel than an apartment complex, with its expansive columns and marble floors. when arlo said i could stay with him after hearing about another one of moms manic episodes, i had no idea he lived like an actual adult. I thought it’d be more similar to the last time i visited him, right after i graduated from high school, back when he had first started dealing. however, that was four years ago and a two story skimpy complex ago. that’s kind of what i was expecting. i certainly wasn’t anticipating this orderly area in the middle of downtown massachusetts. I spent all of last week packing up everything i own from mom’s house back in florida. luckily, i don’t own much. but after taking a five hundred mile drive alone today, my exhaustion is pretty obvious in my reflection. my hair is in a unsecured knot on top of my head, held together by a pencil, since I couldn't find a hair tie while I was driving. i reach into my purse to find chapstick, hoping to recover my lips before they end up as weary-looking as the rest of me. I pull my phone out of my pocket and open up my messages to arlo.

i can't remember which apartment number he said was his. it’s either 1372 or 1374. maybe it's 1372? i come to a stop at 1372, because there's a guy passed out on the floor of the hallway, leaning against the door to 1374. please don't let it be 1374. i find the message on my phone and cringe. it's 1374. of course it is.

i walk slowly to the door, hoping I don't wake up the guy. his legs are sprawled out in front of him, and he's leaning with his back propped up against arlo’s door. his chin is tucked to his chest, and he's snoring. "excuse me" i say, my voice just above a whisper. he doesn't move. i lift my leg and poke his shoulder with my foot. "i need to get into this apartment." he rustles and then slowly opens his eyes and stares straight ahead at my legs. his eyes meet my knees, and his eyebrows furrow as he slowly leans forward with a deep scowl on his face. he lifts a hand and pokes my knee with his finger, almost as if he's never seen a knee before. he drops his hand, closes his eyes, and falls back asleep against the door. great. arlo won't be back until tomorrow, so i dial his number to see if this guy is someone i should be concerned about. “y/n?" he asks, answering his phone without a hello. "yep," i reply. "made it safe, but i can't get in because there's a drunk guy passed out at your front door." "thirteen seventy four?" he asks. "you sure you're at the right apartment?" "positive." "are you sure he's drunk?" "positive." "weird," he says. "what’s he wearing?" "why do you want to know what he's wearing?" "if he's wearing a yellow shirt and goggles on his head he’s probably the janitor. the janitor in our complex is homeless" this guy isn't wearing any type of goggles, but i can't help but notice that his jeans and black hoodie do fit him very nicely. "no goggles," i say. “can you get past him without waking him up?" "i’d have to move him. he’ll fall inside if I open the door." he’s quiet for a few seconds while he thinks. "go back downstairs and wait in the lobby until someone can let you in" i sigh, because ive been driving for six hours, and going all the way back downstairs is not something I feel like doing right now.

“just stay on the phone with me until I'm inside your apartment" i like my plan a lot better. i balance my phone against my ear with my shoulder and dig inside my purse for the key arlo sent me. i insert it into the lock and begin to open the door, but the drunk guy begins to fall backward with every inch the door opens. he groans, but his eyes don't open again. "it’s too bad he's wasted," i tell arlo. "he’s not bad-looking." "can you just get your ass inside and lock the door so i can hang up." i roll my eyes. i’m hoping things will be different between us now that mom’s in the hospital. she was always turning us against one another. for example, by the time i was eleven, i’d saved up three hundred dollars so that i could finally get a pet hamster. she ended up stealing it and spending it on pills. she told me arlo stole it.

i wrap my purse around my shoulder, but it gets caught on my suitcase handle, so i just let it fall to the floor. i keep my left hand wrapped tightly around the doorknob and hold the door shut so the guy won't fall completely into the apartment. i take my foot and press it against his shoulder, pushing him from the center of the doorway. he doesn't budge. “arlo, he's too heavy. i’m gonna have to hang up so I can use both hands." “no, don't hang up. just put the phone in your pocket, but don't hang up." i look down at the oversized shirt and leggings I have on. “no pockets. you’re going in the bra." arlo laughs as i pull the phone from my ear and shove it inside my bra. i remove the key from the lock and drop it toward my purse, but it misses and falls to the floor. i reach down to grab the drunk guy so I can move him out of the way. “okay" I say, struggling to pull him away from the center of the doorway. "sorry." i somehow manage to prop him up against the doorframe to prevent him from falling into the apartment, and then i push the door open farther and turn to get my things.

something warm wraps around my ankle. i freeze. i look down. “let go!" i yell, kicking at the hand that's gripping my ankle so tightly I'm pretty sure it might bruise. the drunk guy is looking up at me now, and his grip sends me falling backward into the apartment when I try to pull away from him. "i need to get in there” , he mutters, just as my butt meets the floor. he makes an attempt to push the apartment door open with his other hand, and this immediately sends me into panic mode. i pull my legs the rest of the way inside, and his hand comes with me. i use my free leg to kick the door shut, slamming it directly onto his wrist. “fuck!" he yells. he’s trying to pull his hand back into the hallway with him, but my foot is still pressing against the door. i release enough pressure for him to have his hand back, and then i immediately kick the door all the way shut.

i pull myself up and lock the door, the dead bolt, and the chain lock as quickly as i can. as soon as my heart rate begins to calm down, it starts to scream at me. my heart is actually screaming at me. in a deep male voice. It sounds like it's calling my name. arlo. i immediately look down at my chest and pull my phone out of my bra, then bring it up to my ear. "hello!" i wince, then pull the phone several inches from my ear. "i’m fine," i say, out of breath. "i’m inside. i locked the door." “okay" he says, relieved. "you scared me. what the hell happened?" “he was trying to get inside. i locked the door, though." i flip on the living-room light and take no more than three steps inside before i come to a halt. i slowly turn back toward the door after realizing what ive done. “arlo?" i pause. "i left a few things outside that i need. i would just grab them, but the drunk guy is still trying to get in, so there's no way I'm opening the door again. what do i do?” he’s silent for a few seconds. "what did you leave in the hallway?" i don't want to answer him, but i do. "my suitcase...and purse." “why the hell is your purse outside?" "i also left the key on the hallway floor." he doesn't even respond to that one. he just groans. "i’ll call chris and see if he's home yet. give me two minutes." "wait. who’s chris ?" "he lives across the hall. whatever you do, don't open the door again until i call you back." arlo hangs up, and i lean against his front door. i’ve lived in massachusetts all of thirty minutes. my phone rings. i slide my thumb across the screen and answer it.

"hey." "y/n?" "yeah?," i reply, wondering why he always double-checks to see if it's me. he called me, so who else would be answering it who sounds exactly like me? "i called chris." “good. is he gonna help me get my stuff?" "not exactly," arlo says. "i kind of need you to do me a huge favor." my head falls against the door again. i have a feeling the next few months are going to be full of inconvenient favors, since he knows he's doing me a huse one by letting me stay here. "what?" i ask him. "chris kind of needs your help." "the neighbor?" i pause as soon as it clicks, and i close my eyes. "arlo, please don't tell me the guy you called to protect me from the drunk guy is the drunk guy." arlo sighs. "i need you to unlock the door and let him in. let him crash on the couch. i’ll be there first thing in the morning. when he sobers up, he'll know where he is, and he'll go straight home." i shake my head. "what kind of apartment complex is this? should i prepare to be groped by drunk people every time I come home?" long pause. "he groped you?" "groped might be a bit strong. he did grab my ankle, though." arlo lets out a sigh. "just do this for me. call me back when you've got him and all your stuff inside." "fine." i groan, recognizing the worry in his voice.

i hang up on arlo and open the door. the drunk guy falls onto his shoulder, and his cell phone slips from his hand and lands on the floor next to his head. i flip him onto his back and look down at him. he cracks his eyes open and attempts to look up at me, but his eyelids fall shut again. "You're not arlo," he mutters. "no. i’m not. i’m your new neighbor." i lift him by his shoulders and try to get him to sit up, but he doesn't. i don't think he can, actually. how does a person even get this drunk? i grab his hands and pull him inch by inch into the apartment, stopping when he's just far enough inside for me to be able to close the door. i retrieve all of my things from outside the apartment, then shut and lock the front door. i grab a throw pillow from the couch, prop his head up, and roll him onto his side in case he pukes in his sleep. and that's all the help he's getting from me. when he's comfortably asleep in the middle of the living room floor, i leave him there while I look around the apartment.

the living room alone could fit three of the living rooms from arlos last apartment. arlo said he'd be back in the morning, so i’ll leave that to him. normally, i would be nervous about the fact that there's a stranger in the same apartment I'm in, but i have a feeling i don't need to worry. arlo would never ask me to help someone he felt might be a threat to me in any way. which confuses me, because if this is common behavior for chris, i’m surprised arlo asked me to bring him inside.

i head back to the living room to turn out the lights, but when ive rounded the corner, i come to an immediate halt. not only is chris up off the floor, but he's in the kitchen, with his head pressed against his arms and his arms folded on top of the kitchen counter. he’s seated on the edge of a bar stool, and he looks as if he's about to fall off it any second. i can't tell if he's sleeping again or just attempting to recover. "chris?" he doesn't move when i call his name, so i walk toward him and gently lay my hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. the second my fingers squeeze his shoulder, he gasps and sits up straight as if I just woke him from the middle of a dream. or a nightmare. immediately, he slides off the stool and onto very unstable legs. he begins to sway, so i throw his arm over my shoulder and try to walk him out of the kitchen. "come on." he drops his forehead to the side of my head and stumbles along with me, making it even harder to hold him up. we make it to the front of the couch, and i start to peel him off me. "okay, chris. whoever you are. just go to sleep." he falls onto the couch, but he doesn't let go of my shoulders. i fall with him and immediately attempt to pull away. i gently push him back into the couch, yanking my hand away. i lay his pillow down and urge him onto it. "go to sleep, chris," i say gently.

his eyelids are heavy and watering when he drops to the pillow. he grabs my hand and hums. his eyes fall shut again, and he releases a heavy sigh. i stare at him silently, allowing him to keep hold of my hand until he's quiet and still. i pull my hand away from his, but i stay by his side for a few minutes longer. even though he's asleep, he somehow still looks as if he's on edge. his eyebrows are furrowed, and his breathing is sporadic, failing to fall into a peaceful pattern. when he makes another half conscious effort to reach for my hand, i finally give in. i place my cheek on top of our hands and lean into the couch. i fall asleep on the floor next to him.

@sturnsmadison @ryli3sworld @sunnysturniolos @ariologyy @sturncakez @sturnsxplr-25 @nickmillersn1gf

[tswhiisftteedr]

Not to be rude but you accidentally put val's story in vox's masterlist instead. Srry I didn't feel comfy dming you. Nothing against you at all I'm just a coward wanting to hide in anon haha. Ig while I'm here could I get vox general hcs pls?

What the Tv do? ☆ Vox General Headcanon + Drabbles (SFW & NSFW)

☆ Vox General headcanon + Vox x Gn!Reader(Employee!Reader??):

Some general thoughts about the tv man and also his relationship with the ‘reader’. This is silly, this is fun, fluffy and smutty.

Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, Death(literally overdose on coffe nothing gruesome), Drug use(c0caine and others substances), Sadistic Tendencies, Dub-Con, Power Imbalance/Power Play, Obsessive and Possessive Tendencies and Acts, Stalking, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism, Boss x Employee, Pet Play?(Just collaring and slight animal based pet names), Valentino.

Words: Total: 5496 = Sfw - 2609 + Nsfw - 2887

Note: I only wrote 1 drabble, i might add more if people request it about the specific headcanon they want more on. so I’m not good with request like these, I like when they are more specific so I have sort of something to base my writing on, so sorry if you anon or people don’t like what I’ve wrote, r.i.p. >:/ Though tell me if you want more!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

SFW:

☕︎ Coffee addict and 𓏊 Alcoholic

Vox is the figurative and quite literally incarnation of the ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ phrase.

But we’re talking coffees instead of coffee with him — two cups straight out of bed to be precise. When totalling the day’s consumption, Vox indulges on average, 6-7 cups of 10 oz coffee; in addition to his morning coffees, he likes to have a mid-morning cup, then two during lunch and finally 1-2 cups during the afternoon depending how late he is working.

Is this per say, ‘healthy’? No, not at all, Vox couldn't care less — worst ‘worst’ case scenario, he quote on quote dies, the coffee he had intake ends up intoxicating him due to the splurging amount of it, turning this mondaine drink into a lethal liquid for the overlord’s body. His heart would stop, sub-consequently, him and his body would be out.

Though the good thing — or bad, it all depends on your angle — about hell is that in about the span of 10 minutes his body will have fully regenerate and be back open for business. Some sinners call it it a curse, he calls it a blessing, as this part of the ‘eternal punishment’ practically makes him immortal.

So is he going to work on regulating his caffeine intake? Obviously not!

Worst thing he gets from his ‘little problem’ is a heart attack, and they don’t permanently keep him down. — Sure, they hurt like a bitch, and he would rather not be having them at all to be truthful.

But he honestly he doesn’t see his bimonthly cardiac arrests as that steep of a price to pay. (Honestly how can such a smart businessman be so dumb about his health. * face palming and baffled at the idiocy of it all *)

Now when alcohol is the subject of conversation, Vox takes a slightly different approach, albeit one still characterized by overindulgence.

You see, he prides himself on being the epitome of a charming, classy, and self-controlled casual drinker, compared to his drunkard of a pattern —Valentino— our lovely show host with anger issues and both inferiority and superiority complex is a sophisticated and savvy man.

However, beneath this facade of self-control, which he upholds quite well to the public eye, hides his obvious alcoholism issues.

While he may not be stumbling and blubbering around, picking fights,— in most instances at least— Vox is certainly what you might call a “day drinker."

In fact, this is actually a canonical trait, which was displayed in episode two of the show; Him discussing with others Vees on how to deal with the radio demon’s comeback, a drink in hand.

I presume thatit was a scotch on the rocks due to it’s colour but also it’s historical relevance in relation to Vox’s person— Scotch whisky poured over ice, gained popularity in the 1950s primarily in Western countries such as the United States, the United Kingdom, and Canada.

It became a symbol of sophistication and leisure, often enjoyed in upscale bars, clubs, and lounges frequented by the affluent and fashionable crowd of the era.

Additionally, its popularity was bolstered by the rise of cocktail culture during the mid-20th century, as well as the increasing availability of Scotch whisky in international markets. — this fits quite nicely Vox’s character as it is both a drink of his time on earth but also one that remains relevant in the contemporary era.

It easily mirrors Vox's overarching desire to maintain relevance and significance, both in the present and in the ever-evolving future.

The overlord definitely adhere to ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’ religiously. Though he does prefer to enjoy his daily drink around 5 p.m. PRT (Pride Ring Time).

He will occasionally enjoys a drink with his lunch, often opting for wine, although this isn't a regular occurrence for the man.

As someone constantly under stress, with his mind racing to keep up with the ever-changing trends and opinions in hell, Vox is a type to indulge in a nightcap or two before bed.

It helps him unwind and achieve the relaxed state of mind necessary for a restful night's sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Sleep

While the notion of ‘Vox's dreams playing on his screen while he's asleep’ is an amusing concept for fanfiction or artwork, I personally find the idea of ‘the VoxTek logo bouncing around like the DVD logo’ to be more fitting for Vox.

Before delving further, it's important to note that initially, it wasn't necessarily the VoxTek logo projected on his screen; however, I'll address this shortly.

The reason I lean towards the DVD logo concept is because I find it unlikely that Vox's screen would be completely black during sleep. A completely dark screen would imply the device is completely off, no energy is being received or given by it, which would suggest that it is no longer alive. Having some activity on Vox’s screen while asleep would signify that his program is still active, indicating he's still functioning, essentially alive.

Now regarding the widely shared headcanon, I have my own personal take on it.

When Vox first manifested in hell, his 'real name' appeared on screen. By 'real name,' I mean the one he had on Earth, which I believe wasn't Vox —That name seems too futuristic for a person born in the early 1900s or the kind of name you'd associate with a 1950s businessman— Vox is a name he chose for himself after death, symbolizing a fresh start, though I do think that his real name might also have started with a V.

(This perspective extends to other 'Vees' as well, although Velvette seems more plausible as a given name, I suspect it might not be her original one. Valentino, on the other hand, feels like a name assigned to him, but he too might have adopted a new one after death.)

Initially, Vox was unaware of his old name appearing on his screen while he slept since he wasn't conscious during that time. It wasn't until about half a year into his time in hell, during which he introduced himself as Vox to everyone, that one of his acquaintances pointed out this aspect of his physiology. Something along the lines of "Who's V———?" or "Why does V——— show on your screen while you sleep?" triggered a cascade of reactions in him.

Firstly, he panicked, realizing that people had access to his old identity. Secondly, he was puzzled by this phenomenon since no TV he had encountered displayed such behavior, which was normal considering DVDs weren't invented before 1996. — Hell sure was weird, he possessed technological features as part of his physiology before they were even invented— Lastly, this revelation instilled in him a new fear of sleeping.

This behavior stemmed from Vox's desire to construct a fresh existence in hell, complete with a new identity, image, empire, etc. The thought of others accessing his old name and exploiting it to uncover details about his past, including his behaviors, weaknesses, and tactics, filled him with dread.

As a result, he became hyper-vigilant, refusing to sleep unless he was certain of his solitude, fearing the potential repercussions of his former identity being known.

It wasn't until the mid 1960s that Vox had finally managed to upgrade his system, replacing ‘V———‘ with 'Vox'. However, even after this upgrade, he still harboured reservations about sleeping around others for about a year or two. He feared a potential glitch that could revert his screen to displaying his previous name.

Around the late 1970s he had made an adjustment to this aspect of his body once more, replacing 'Vox' with the VoxTek logo after a certain moth had suggested it.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sexuality

Our beloved Tv Demon a canonical bisexual man, but I personally believe that while he may have bisexuality as his sexual orientation, — his attraction to men was something he only came to realize after death. Although there were subtle hints of his attraction to the same gender based on how he felt about them, he unfortunately didn't grasp them while still alive;

It would have been the late 1950s, and Vox had been in hell for about a year or two. In his earthly life, he had been with his fair share of women, and even in the "surprisingly not so fiery pits of the underworld," his ability to attract partners hadn't diminished much once got over his TV head appearance and let place for his charming and savvy persona to take over.

His love life seemed unchanged, perhaps with occasional exploration of new kinks, until that fateful night of October 11, 195X...

Vox had gone out for a drink after a grueling day at work, back when he was still toiling away at a low-paying job in an electronics factory, toasters, vacuum, etc. Despite the shitty work he had to go through, he had the perk of taking home broken scraps, which eventually played a role in his rise to success. But let's refocus on his night out, shall we?

He walked into his newfound favorite spot, a comedy bar where he sought solace in laughter and libations after a hard day. Arriving just as the performer began their set, he headed straight to the bar for his usual whiskey on the rocks, with nothing else on his mind. It wasn't until the comedian delivered a particularly hilarious joke that Vox turned to look at them and found his attraction piqued.

It was evident that they were a man with the specific style flashy outfit and makeup they wore. The voice was also a dead giveaway. The person now standing on stage, delivering one funny punchline after another, was a drag queen – a stunning one in Vox's eyes.

He couldn't tear his gaze away; there was something irresistibly captivating about the humorous individual on stage.

After the performance, as they made their way to the bar, Vox seized the opportunity. He introduced himself, and they exchanged pleasantries. They shared drinks and engaged in lively conversation, making for a truly enjoyable night that ended with a bang, quite literally.

In the morning, as clarity returned, Vox couldn't help but feel confused. He had never been attracted to men before, so he initially chalked it up to the alcohol or the fact that his night companion appeared so feminine that he mistook them for a woman.

However, as memories of the night flooded back, he couldn't deny his genuine attraction to every aspect of his partner, even the unmistakably male parts.

Initially, it felt strange to Vox as he reflected on the experience. However, after hours of deep contemplation, everything started to fall into place.

Vox realized he had always felt an affinity towards men, though expressing it as "liking men" might have appeared odd to outsiders. When he used that phrase, it wasn't in the context of sexual or romantic attraction but more of an admiration.

Yet, upon further reflection, he acknowledged that his feelings surpassed mere admiration.

He had never entertained the idea of it being anything akin to sexual or romantic attraction, but his recent encounter forced him to reconsider as he contemplated his life and the events of the previous night.

Vox liked men;

— Vox had always been drawn to the men of his time who exuded masculine confidence and assertiveness, finding their presence alluring and desiring to be in their company constantly.

He liked when they wore classic masculine fashion, such as tailored suits with narrow lapels, fitted jackets, and straight-leg trousers. These outfits oozed sophistication and professionalism, and Vox admired the attention to detail displayed.

Additionally, he liked when men would add classic accessories like fedora hats, skinny ties, cufflinks, and pocket squares to their outfit, they added to the polished and stylish appearance.

The preppy style also appealed to Vox, as he admired men who wore V-neck sweaters, button-down shirts, khaki trousers, and loafers. This style exuded a sense of casual elegance and refinement that he found attractive.

He also had a penchant for rebellious men who embraced a non-conformist aesthetic, often seen in leather jackets, denim jeans, white T-shirts, and motorcycle boots.

Vox liked when men were smart and witty, could keep up with the conversation and also teach something along the way.

Vox liked men who exuded strength and athleticism, finding their ability to handle themselves physically appealing. For instance, witnessing a fistfight between coworkers would stir his emotions, initially attributing his excitement to the violence of the altercation.

However, he would inevitably find himself gravitating towards the winner, intrigued by their display of strength and skill, and feeling drawn to them in some inexplicable way. There was something about winners that captivated him and sparked his desire to get closer to them.

He like men who were daring, adventurous, and unafraid to push boundaries, they appealed to his sense of excitement and thrill-seeking.

He liked men who were ambitious, goal-oriented, and willing to pursue their dreams with determination might have resonated with Vox on a subconscious level.—

After his one-night stand, Vox was determined to clarify things once and for all. Following another grueling day of work, he ventured out again, this time to a gay bar, seeking the company of someone who embodied the traits he found most appealing in men, wanting to ensure it wasn't just the alcohol or the femininity of his previous partner. Without delving into detail, let's just say he had quite the night and afterward, there was no doubt in his mind: ‘he liked women, and he definitely also liked men.’

Following that experience, Vox began seeing more individuals of the same gender. However, he still held onto the notion that while he might be attracted to men, he didn't believe he would be interested in them as anything more than sexual partners. That was until he met Alastor...

Initially, Vox approached the radio demon seeking friendship or perhaps a partnership, given Vox's burgeoning company and rising status as an overlord. However, he soon found himself enamored with Alastor. Unfortunately for Vox, his feelings were not reciprocated. After that, Alastor distanced himself from Vox, leading our TV host to regard his old love as an enemy.

In response to the rejection, Vox decided to cease seeing men altogether, engaging in a series of short-term relationships with women. However, he soon realized he was simply idealizing Alastor and shifted his focus from woman to men for meaningless relationships, attempting to prove to himself that any other man was better than "that Bambi bitch."

But this approach only intensified the emptiness he felt. Recognizing the detrimental effects of his frantic behavior on himself and his company, Vox resolved to regulate and get back on a more business focused path.

The fact that rumours began circulating about his supposed "homoerotic relationships," was also a big push into getting back on track, as a word like that getting out was detrimental to business, since being gay was still stigmatized even in hell, during this time period.

It was around the late 1970s, with the rise of gay rights activism, that Vox began publicly dating men. Coincidentally, this was also when he met and began his business partnership (and more) with Valentino.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Names

Vox has a penchant for using endearing or patronizing nicknames, regardless of the gender of his employees. He will refer to them as "sweetheart," "doll face," or simply "doll."

In moments of frustration or when faced with resistance, he's not shy about using terms like "little girl" or "little boy," or even "kid," to belittle those who question him.

Additionally, he might employ terms like "Princess" or "your highness" as forms of condescension, no matter the gender of the person he is addressing.

NSFW

𓊔 Party

Despite Vox's obsession with his and the Vees' image, when it comes to partying, he becomes a total animal — I’m talking ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ type of wild.

Lavish gatherings marked by obscene spending and excessive drug intake, especially cocaine.

Vox typically indulged in doing lines off his desk or the luxurious crystal table in the lounge. However, what truly exited him was snorting lines off someone, getting his rocks off at their inability to refuse his advances and delighting in the control he exerted as he pinned them down to prevent any squirming.

The slight anxious tears and nervous mewls from whoever served as his snorting surface always stirred something within Vox. While he would grow irritated if they moved too much, the subtle signs of fear, such as the wetting of their eyes and trembling breath, would quickly reignite his unstable emotions. He found himself intensely aroused by their scared state, and more than once, he acted on these desires…

Drabble:

You were a VoxTek employee, more specifically; Vox’s secretary.

As Vox's secretary, navigating Alastor-related tantrums and enduring the grueling hours could be incredibly taxing, but the job itself had its perks.

Thanks to your position in the company, you enjoyed luxurious accommodations in the finest suites the V Tower had to offer.

Despite the challenges, Vox could be surprisingly pleasant, his charismatic charm reminiscent of his earlier days when his hypnosis wasn't as potent. And beneath the unconventional exterior of his TV head, there was no denying the appeal of his well-built physique.

Given the close proximity and constant interaction with Vox, it was inevitable to develop a small crush on your boss. His magnetic presence and the fact he was practically the only person you interacted with regularly since he requested you to work closer to him about three months ago only fueled this infatuation.

You liked your boss, but at this moment, you couldn't stand him;

It was 3 a.m. on a Sunday, the one day of the week you were supposed to have some semblance of off-time, with the luxury of sleeping in until noon.

But instead of enjoying your well-deserved rest in bed, you found yourself reluctantly entering the elevator, begrudgingly making your way to the usually closed-off top floor of the building.

Why? Because you had received a threatening and slightly slurry phone call from your boss, demanding your immediate presence or else face termination.

With your livelihood seemingly hanging in the balance, you complied without questioning, even though you loathed every second of it.

After punching in the code provided, you entered the lounge area of the top floor to find all three Vees lounging about. Valentino was enveloped in smoke, while music filled the air.

"Y/N! So glad you made it! Come 'ere," Vox exclaimed, his gestures frantic, urging you to approach quickly. He appeared laid-back, friendly, and strangely excited, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor of coldness and condescension.

Confusion clouded your expression as you approached the couch, unsure of what to make of Vox's sudden change in behavior. Velvette, noticing your bewilderment, chimed in with an explanation. "He took some MDMA before he called you — actually, he couldn't stop blabbing about your ass once that stuff kicked in," she divulged matter-of-factly, adding another layer of peculiarity to the already bizarre situation.

‘Ah, he’s high — that explains the weird friendliness.’ You thought to yourself.

But before you could dwell on it too long, Valentino's words snapped you out of your thoughts, "Yes, little Voxxy over there couldn't stop talking about how much he wanted his little secretary with him right here. He just had to call you, despite it being the middle of the night. I'm sorry you're losing your beauty sleep right now, cariño," he said, his tone tinged with insincerity from false remorse. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he finished speaking, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment.

“Val, Vel! You can’t tell them that! Or they’ll, they’ll… fuck!” Vox began to say, but something mid-sentence seemed to frustrate him.

Before you could question it for too long, Valentino answered that question for you. “They’ll figure out you have a little crush on them. Aww, don’t worry papi, it’s not like they can say no to you either way,” the moth darkly announced, frightening you, as it was technically true that you had to obey whatever order your boss gave you; it was in your contract after all.

To your somewhat relief, Vox scoffed at his part-time boyfriend's comment, as if to convey that he wouldn't behave in such a manner.

"Shut the fuck, Val!" Vox began, his frustration evident, before redirecting his attention back to you. "And you, lay down on the table." Confused by the request, you briefly wondered if he was joking, but the seriousness etched on his face made it clear that he wasn't. Resigned, you followed his instruction and laid down on the table as he commanded.

As soon as you complied, a smile spread across Vox's face. "Good, good. Now be a good little secretary and stay still as I do some lines off you, m'kay?" he instructed.

Before you could process anything or say something, he pushed your shirt all the way up, ending just under your chest, and tugged your bottoms down slightly — exposing your whole stomach.

Attempting to voice your discomfort, you were promptly shushed by Vox. "Shhh, you're being a table for me right now, and last time I checked, tables don't talk, now do they, sweetheart? So be a doll and shut up," he said, eliciting laughter from the two other Vees.

You complied with his instructions and remained silent as you felt him pour some powder onto your abdomen. Knowing the drugs he usually made you order on his behalf, it was probably coke.

With that, he quickly formed about three lines and began snorting them. The sensation felt odd and somewhat ticklish to you, but what you didn't expect was for him to lick the parts of your belly where the powder had just sat — long lines that started from top to bottom, causing you to squirm involuntarily.

Vox didn't appreciate your movement, because ‘how dare his table move?’. In response, he firmly gripped your waist on both sides and forcefully slammed your hips against the table as a warning to ‘stop moving’.

However, his claws dug into your skin, causing you to cry out slightly. Upon seeing the small tears in your eyes, his mood shifted once more, from aggravation to something more lustful.

He relished the sight of you with tears in your eyes, so he decided to inflict a bit more pain. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he bit at your sides, knowing that you couldn't retaliate due to the hierarchical difference between you.

His bites started from the top, gradually getting lower until they ended up just above your crotch. With a slight, heavy breathing, he remarked, "Now what do we have here? A snack for me? You shouldn't have." As he removed your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear, a slight moist patch formed due to the position you were in.

Sure, Vox was an entitled asshole, but god, did he look and sound incredible when he was being mean and bossy. How could you not get aroused, especially when his face and long tongue ass were so close to your intimate parts.

"You want me to play with you, darling?" Vox asked in a manner that almost made it feel like you had a choice. There was something about it that suggested he might respect your decision if you said no—sure, he wouldn't like it, but he definitely had this thing where he wanted you to want him, to beg for him, to need him. Forcing himself on you wouldn't align with that desire.

You nodded, but he tutted at you, wanting a verbal answer. "No, no, no, it's 'Could you please, sir?' or 'Would love to, Mr. Vox,' or 'Please, I need you, Vox.' You've got to speak up if you want me to do anything to you, got it, dollface?" he clarified, emphasizing the importance of explicit consent, whether it was due to genuine respect for your boundaries or just his enjoyment of your yearning for him, it was a bit unclear. However, knowing Vox, he probably just got off on your embarrassment.

"Yes, sir," you said, feeling embarrassed. "So? Do you want me to give some love to these," he asked, tracing the outline of your underwear, "lovely parts?" He perked up.

"I would love for you to, sir," you managed to speak out. With a 'perfect' from your boss, he was now eagerly devouring you with his tongue, sending small pleasurable shocks through you as he did. No part of you down there was left un-licked.

Just as you were about to reach that sweet, sweet release — Vox removed himself from you, causing you to whine at the loss of pleasure.

"Don't worry," he said, but before you could complain too much, Vox lifted you up and threw you onto the couch, your face soon hitting the satin pillows. As you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, you felt your hips being repositioned, leaving you face down and ass up.

Vox quickly pumped his cock a few times, not needing much as it was already hard from the sight of you writhing due to his tongue. Getting close to your ear, he whispered, "Cuz I'm not done with you, dollface."

Then he promptly shoved himself inside of you. Thankfully, whatever he was doing with his tongue a couple of instances ago had prepped you, because, woof, did the stretch sting.

After giving you a few moments to adjust, he began pounding you into tomorrow, playing with your front and sending small shocks here and there. With no regard for his colleagues sitting right beside him —or should I say colleague, as in singular—Velvette had left as soon as he began working you with his tongue. However, Valentino remained, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

Your soon came undone due to his rough ministrations, but he was far from done with you...

⫘⫘⫘ Ownership, ⛌⛌⛌ Humiliation & Collar

If you haven't already figured it out yet, Vox is a sadist. He thoroughly enjoys power dynamics and the act of humiliating others.

Continuing from the previous headcanon, picture yourself as either hired as his secretary or as a low-ranking demon in his company who catches his eye. If you're the latter, he'll undoubtedly arrange for you to be transferred to work closer to him.

But anyway, my point is, as soon as you're in his close proximity, he'll literally makes you his bitch on call in the blink of an eye. And obviously, you can't refuse because, one, he's your boss; two, he's an overlord; and three, he's Vox.

Who would refuse that hunk? Even if you weren't initially attracted to him, you'd find yourself becoming so after a couple of weeks, even if it's just some weird mild attraction—you're still into him.

Once he's got you in his grasp and has fucked you at least once, this is when he begins to play with you. He'll make you start wearing a vibrator under your clothes at work, ordering you to remove your clothing every morning and show him, to ensure you did it. Then he'd send you on your merry way.

If he wasn't physically with you, he'd be watching you through his cameras.

And every time you would be talking to someone and he deemed it too long, you weren't paying attention to him, or you were zoning out/getting distracted, he would turn the vibrator on to 'get you back on track'.

Though he did like to sometimes turn the vibrator on just to tease you. For example, you're in the middle of telling him about a shift in his appointment in a room full of people, and he would suddenly turn it on to fuck with you.

He also has a huge thing for pulling you by your soul chain. He just loves, loves, loves summoning it out of nowhere and just tugging you along with it.

For instance, you could be telling him about some issue concerning a recent project, and he would tell you to come closer so he could hear better.

As you walk closer towards his desk, he deems your pace too slow. Without warning, he summons and tugs at the chain around your neck, causing you to fall to the ground.

In an attempt to brace the fall, you put your arms out, catching yourself and ending up on all fours.

But as you try to get up, he would tut at you, ordering you to “Crawl to me.” You’re humiliated, but you still do it as he watches you like a hawk, a satisfied grin on his face.

If you also happen to scrape or bruise yourself when you fell and some small tears form in your eyes, let me tell you, he would get so bricked up as soon as he noticed them.

And of course, he would make you blow him, though it would end up with him face-fucking you, as it usually did.

He would also hold your head down as he dumped his cum down your throat, then he would pull your nose with his free hand, saying that “you don’t get to breathe until you’ve swallowed it all.” And of course, you would do it because you don’t want to literally choke to death on your boss’s dick.

Once he was sure you had swallowed it all, he would finally release you, allowing you to take some air in. Then he would make you stick out your tongue, and he would spit in your mouth, making you swallow that too.

𐂯 Training

He liked using small electrical charges as a ‘training method’, and this method has two stages. This would happen after he already had you as his personal toy— I mean, ‘secretary’.

At first, he uses electricity to reprimand you whenever you weren’t paying attention to him, questioned him, said no to things, or did anything that he considered as bad behaviour.

He would shock you, making you associate ‘bad behavior’ with pain, so you would end up automatically correct yourself before you even do or say something.

If you take a bit too long to ‘adjust’ to this new way of acting, he might resort to a little bit of hypnosis, but he would prefer not to.

He gets off on the fact that he can train you to behave just with his words and actions, without the help of any special ability.

Anyways, when he is sure that he has drilled into you what proper behavior is, he’ll employ phase two. He’ll start training you to enjoy the sting of his electricity.

So, whether he's fucking you, giving you head, touching you, or basically providing any sort of pleasure, every time you would be close to reaching your peak, he would send jolts of electricity through you, gradually increasing the dosage over time.

Things would get to the point that a small shock from him would be enough to get you turned on, and bigger shocks would be able to literally make you cum.

ฅ Pet

For the most part, he wouldn’t see secretary!reader as a partner. It’s only after a while, like a year or more, that he would start considering it.

He views them as his romantic interests, but not on his level. To keep face with the other Vees, even though they both knew about his crush from the beginning because he was so obvious with it, he would call you his pet.

Sometimes literal ‘pet names’ like puppy, kitty, bunny, etc. (Personally, I would love for him to call him his bunny <3.)

What he calls you all depends on your appearance and behaviors. For example, if you manifested with a more feline appearance, he would call you his kitten or kitty. If you didn’t have animal-like features but for example, were very needy, had a tendency to follow around, and were a sucker for praise, he would likely call you his puppy.

𓌏 Punishments

Besides using electric shocks, he is definitely into spanking as a form of punishment—whether it involves pulling down your pants or lifting your skirt, spanking you for every ‘transgression’ you’ve committed is something he’s totally down for.

It can be a really strange experience if you weren't a masochist to begin with because he'll end up having you conditioned to enjoy physical punishments;

For example, he would be spanking you, and you find yourself getting turned on, arousal literally leaking due to his rough treatment of your behind.

Edging and overstimulation are also big in his book, though each has its own set of circumstances where they would be implemented.

For instance, if you weren't paying attention to him because of someone else, he would overstimulate you to the point where you couldn't think about anyone but him, asserting his superiority over whoever had your attention.

If you weren't paying attention for any other reason, he would edge you, because ‘how dare you ignore him when he should be the most important to you!’.

Thanks anons for requesting!

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[digitalagepulao]

My sincere Black Myth: Wukong review

Full disclosure! This is from a recent but earnest fan of JTTW as the original novel, as well as all the social, cultural and religious layers of it. I've seen my fair share of adaptations and derivative media, from shlocky to silly to grimdark to cutesy. I'm a bachelor in visual arts, with an interest in the field of game development since high school. I am also, white and brazillian, and have talked with other jttw fans, both Chinese and not, on this game. If any of these are for some reason motive to not read further, then fair enough. Hope you have fun and continue to enjoy the game, do not let me or my opinion stop you!

Now to the review proper <3

First things first, let the obvious not remain unsaid. This game, is supremely gorgeous. In every sense of the word, and I mean this fully, it's a work of art. The sound design, the character concepts and execution, the animations, the voice acting, the visual effects, the UI design, the cinematography, the 3D scanning of actual historical artofacts and heritage sites throughout China, and everything beyond and between, are phenomenal, full stop.

This was never a debate, I'm sure, but I don't think I can in good conscience not praise them for their work. It's no news that Asian talent, not just in China either, have been often hired to supplement projects on the West, and we can all agree it's about time they got to shine in their own AAA project. My issues with the international game industry notwithstanding, I hope this brings some much needed acknowledgment and appreciation for Chinese culture and arts, both traditional and modern!

Now, from this point on, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS, so proceed with caution!

(word count: +1.8k)

I also deeply enjoy their choices in arcs to revisit. Some like the Flaming Mountain arc are classic picks to adapt but still a very good match to the whole Six Senses throughline. I don't think you can do a JTTW 2 electric bogaloo without bringing up Niumowang and his family in some way (um, put a pin on that), but the other arcs like Yellowbrow or Black Wind Mountain aren't as explored imo, so it's nice to see them being given a bit of a spotlight.

(speaking of the Yellow Ridge arc, whoever made the executive decision of Lingji Bodhisattva being a Xaanxi singer is, genius!!)

I'm also kind of in love?? with Bajie's design and role in the story overall?? Gameplay wise he sticks around just enough to not feel lonely, but not too long to be a nuisance or overstay his welcome. He's no Atreus (GoW) or Ellie (TLoU) of course, but he doesn't need to be, and most importantly, he isn't trying to be, which I feel is admirable of the devs. Given the visible inspirations from the recent God of War games, it would have been easy to lean a bit too hard on it, but I'm glad they didn't overreach.

Him having a more complex love life is also a nice touch imo. It explores more his womanizer ways in an interesting way, and I appreciate it. I love when people complicate the pig! Also, the way he treats Xiaosheng (Destined One) like a nephew?? The scene on the Huaguoshan throne??? I'M GONNA CRY!!!

I think, I've run out of positive things to say.... time for the spicy takes.

I, kind of detest the premise by default. I'm not a big fan of "Superman is Dead" plots, cus it's usually either done for shock value, or taken so lightly that the weight is totally lost. I have such a love-hate situationship with the introduction cutscene because of this. On one hand, it's phenomenal cinema, and seeing Wukong stand up to the Heavenly armies in glorious 4K high fidelity graphics is delicious. On the other hand, the whole debate they are having has me going "?????", not because I don't get it but just, why?? Why did this have to be the premise?? (put another pin on that)

Also the set up and call to adventure is kind of blergh.

Now is as good a time as any to talk about the gameplay. It's, okay. If you enjoy trying to figure out the most stylish combos, or to mash buttons, then you'll definitely have fun. I was sorely disappointed that I pretty much have been going through the bosses rather easily. Chapter 1 it was mostly the struggle of learning the controls, but I never stuck to a boss for longer than seven tries (Whiteclad Noble, the snakeman that you are). Chapter 2 I only struggled on Tiger Vanguard, because I was sorely underleveled and had missed a pathway to explore before him. After that I second tried him. Chapter 3, I have and I'm not joking, gotten halfway through first or second trying every boss.

Mind you, this is not being some godtier gamer or whatever, I'm pretty average and only a recent player of soulslike games too (maybe playing Lies of P made too OP, but I sincerely doubt it lol). No, this is me saying that if you do explore the game and not rush through it, you won't struggle nearly as much as some people have and still are. Most of the final chapter bosses can be trivialized with the chapter's Obsession Realm gimmick artifact, which isn't in itself a bad thing, just feels like an odd choice personally.

Which leads me to, the level design. So far? Preeeeetty lame! It's very pretty and fancy, but so chockful of invisible walls that it feels stiffling and discourages exploration. I can never tell what is meant to be a path or just fancy scenery, and I never know when a jump will get walled or send me to my death by fall damage. When it's not being confusing, the level design is either a bunch of looping circles, or straight lines. And so far, besides a few interactables and loot, there is not much else to look at. That is, bad level design, plain and simple.

Also, the animations are glorious, but what is the point if I can't see the enemy?? That camera is my true nemesis, and I mean that. the fact that a boss can be beyond my field of vision at ANY POINT when I'm locked on and it strifes sideways, is dreadful. GameScience, FIX IT. It is also, very hard to tell what parts of a boss will damage me if I collide with them or not. The Kang-Jin Long fight was baffling on a design point of view, same for Captain Lotus-Vision. Some clearer hitboxes would be swell.

This is the point where I say my main issue with the game lies: it's very pretty, and adoringly crafted, but it lacks substance design wise. I feel like it needed to cook more, the level design polished more so I wouldn't get lost every five minutes, and clearer.... well, everything. Mechanic explanations, level progression, gimmicks, etc. It all needed to be less murky and convoluted to understand.

It also needed more meat in between bosses. I have yet to run into common enemies that give me actual trouble, so it ends up being just a jolly waltz from boss to boss. Boss rushes are fun and great, but not as the base game experience (for me at least). I had to stop one boss away from completing Chapter 1 cus I was just so exhausted. And I had been playing for like, an hour and a half?? That left a sour taste in my mouth, I'll be honest.

Okay, I'm gonna pick open those pins now.

#1 the Flaming Mountain Arc. I'm gonna be very real here chat, that was so cringe. What do you MEAN, Red Son wasn't Demon Bull King's biological son, and Princess Iron Fan was forced to drink from the Childbearing River??? And Red Son hates him????When I watched that cutscene, I had to pause and walk away for a moment, legitimately. This plotbeat is SO WILD to me, I got nothing to say. Just, why??Soooo bizarre. And that the Flaming Mountain Keeper has such a presence in Iron Fan's life is also, weird?? Not bad weird, just Weird, but that's like a nitpick more than an actual criticism. Ping Ping is fine though, I like that Bull has a daughter with Princess Fair Fox, that's cute and interesting. Wish she was in a better plot and adaptation but lol

And #2, the premise. Now we are getting to the meat of it all.

The underlying premise of the whole plot, including the true ending, is flawed by default. The premise runs on what is sometimes called as a "conspiracy theory plot", as in, "what if the gods were bad actually??". It's reddit movie theory content in very short terms, and while it had a place during the 00s grimdark years pre-Marvel, it's become quite a jaded and boring take nowadays. Now you may say that it comes from a genuine desire to show distrust and critique to insitutions and the powers than be, and I can see that.

There is a hiccup in that though.

In JTTW, Wukong is the Mind Monkey because of the religious text and subtext of the stories. Its interwoven in the whole thing, and makes it cohesive. It still offer critique and mockery to institutions, without entirely invalidating their foundations. Not only for genuine fear of prosecution, but because, shockingly, religion and belief is a major component of human society in general. But going back to my point, JTTW is *already* a critique of institutions and the power that be. Adding further layers into it feel like angst and edginess just for the sake of it, and that feels hollow to me.

To go further, this intent also clashes with their own plot. See, they bring up that Wukong's Mind, his Sixth Sense, died. Thus they need another Mind to guide his other senses and reform him, so that he may be reborn.

For one, that is such a convoluted way to do a reincarnation plot, it feels complicated just for novelty sake. Secondly, Wukong being the Mind Monkey, as I said, implies a tie to the underlying themes of the Journey as a person's path to enlightenment. If enlightenment itself is flawed because the gods are flawed/evil, then both themes are clashing. By making a "what if the gods were evil all along" plot while also going by the laws and order of said gods, then what are we even fighting against? What is the point of this whole rebellion between Erlang and Wukong??

my friend @ryin-silverfish said it best a while back, and I'm paraphrasing here (do pitch in or correct me if needed! <3), but the issue with these conspiracy narratives is the inherent anti-religion of them. They don't believe in anything, and thus they cannot properly retell the story of JTTW through a postmodern lense, because they refuse to engage with the religiosity that runs throughout the story.

It also leaves a sour taste in my mouth, because this game will likely be many people's first genuine experience with the JTTW mythos and story, and I tend to be concerned for how much this will "sour the pot" in the conversation. The novels are sadly innacessible enough as it is; the sheer size of them scare many people away, not even to mention the amount of underlying cultural context you'll miss out without proper footnotes and commentary. Most people will not engage with them directly, and certainly not most gamers.

While the narrative of someone embodying Wukong's spirit is not new in itself, I do find that it coexisting with such a poor premise and spin on it will be a sore first experience for new fans, and I can only hope that them meeting fans of the OG novels won't cause much friction in the fandom (we have enough as it is imo).

It also concerns me that, sadly, people and gamers in particular, get too swept up in the ooh-aah beauty of flashy sfx and highly detailed graphics, and fail to notice some of the underlying issues in game design. As I said, this game is a work of art, but it has flaws, and I don't think people are speaking of them enough. No, the issue is not "lack of diversity" or whatever the hell.

It runs deeper than that, and it's an issue I've come to see in recent movies as well. I'm aware it might just be different cultural expectations of the pacing and span of a story, and it may as well be! But I think if there was more care given to the bones of a media, it would bring much needed longevity and weight to these wonderful artworks.

All this said, I wanna see what acolades this game gets and see what the devs are cooking up with the DLCs (they said at one point the game was supposed to have 12 chapters and my god, that game would be TOO LONG. So glad it didn't get like that!), and further more see how this ripples in the eastern game dev scene. While this is a flawed game with a flawed story, it can be the first on a genuinely wonderful wave of new creations, not just by GameScience, and overall I'm hopeful for what might come next!

[luminouslywriting]

Angsty stressful BOB headcanon - you accidentally get pregnant during the war and try to hide it but they catch on that’s something wrong w you

Sweetheart, I LIVE for and LOVE angsty requests, so I’m here for this! For the sake of historical accuracy and simplicity, reader is a medic/nurse that travels with Easy Company! More below the cut, cut for length, angst mentioned, pregnancy things and miscarriages mentioned:

Dick Winters:

-The thought that you might be pregnant is NOT one that crosses his mind initially. You’re distancing yourself and he doesn’t understand why. -He does his best to try and reach out and try to show you that he’s still committed—he’s honestly wondering what he did wrong. -The minute he sees the small little baby bump though?? He knows and he feels IMMENSE guilt over the entire thing. He should’ve been more careful and you definitely deserve better than being an unwed pregnant woman. -He’s now double stressed about the war and how he’s going to fix things with you and reconcile the problem. So his solution is to have a quiet elopement with you. -At least now you have some money to be taken care of. And he begs you to go and stay with his family back in the states so that you have someone taking care of you since he can’t be there. -He’s happy to have you and to be a father but it’s a very angsty and emotional time that won’t be reconciled until the war is over.

Lewis Nixon:

-Well this is a messy situation….if only because he’s well aware he’s getting a divorce but he was also having an affair with you and now you’re pregnant. -Panicked stressed upset—all of the emotions and goes through the five stages of grief tbh…and drinks to cope. -He’s got a lot of mixed emotions about the complexity of the situation. This is a second chance for happiness and also the nail in the coffin to his previous family. He also feels the weight of responsibility pretty heavily. -Also wants to marry you ASAP and cleans up his act so that he can have a chance with you and the kid. -Views it as a messy second chance so he’s very grateful despite the poor timing of everything. Dick helps him see the good in the situation. -He plans on making a very happy life with you as soon as he can.

Ronald Speirs:

-Clocks onto you being more sick than normal and more often….and just puts two and two together. He’s not an idiot, he knows he should’ve been more careful, and he feels bad. -This is a war and it’s not exactly great timing. He doesn’t want to make you commit to anything if you’re not absolutely certain of being with him. -Conversations are had about whether or not you’ll keep the kid and what you’ll do if you decide to keep it. Co-parenting seems to be the safest bet for now. -Don’t get me wrong, he wants a life with you. He just doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trapped you in said life with him. -He’s probably the most logical about things in the sense that he’s making sure you get a transfer back to London and away from the front lines for safety and health purposes. -Also dutifully writes you until the war is over and he can meet the kid and marry you.

Buck Compton:

-Despite the seriousness of the situation, it just depends on if it was before or after Bastogne. Either way, I think he’s a very big nervous wreck about things. -He wants to be a dad, wants to be a husband and have a life with you….but not like this. -Whatever his plan is that he’s figuring out, it gets thrown off by Bastogne and everything that happens there. -I truthfully think that the best thing might be for you to follow him home since you’re pregnant and try to help in his recovery. You can be a big help emotionally to him. -Buck feels a lot of guilt for feeling broken and not able to support or help you as a parent or lover, but the minute that kid is born, he’s getting everything back on track. -After a while, he’ll ask you to marry him and share a life with him.

Carwood Lipton:

-This responsible mother hen?? Feels like the W O R S T person ever. Not his intention to put you in this situation and wants to send you home with a ring on your finger post-haste. -So that’s exactly what he does, he finds the nearest chaplain and gets hitched and then writes his mother

-He has so much guilt over not being there for the birth of the baby and not being there for you

-But it’s the hope of seeing you and the baby that keeps him going and keeps him hopeful, even during times like Bastogne. -Probably quietly talks about the situation with a few pals of his, including Speirs. And he definitely misses you a lot. -And consistently apologizes the rest of your marriage over the entire thing.

Joseph Liebgott:

-Doesn’t know whether or not to hope for the best or the worst because the timing of it all is just super poor and inconvenient?? -Feels guilty over that and while he’s happy that this means he gets to have you in his life, he’s also acutely aware of how complicated he’s made things for you. -It’s an anchor point for him to remember what he’s fighting for and that humanity is a thing though, so there’s that sobering point he gets to. -Probably wants to get married but there’s not a chaplain around so his next bet is to go to Winters and try to get you transferred somewhere else. -Promises he’s going to make it back to you and get married after the war. He thinks of little else during Bastogne and the hard times. -When he goes to Austria, you show up with the baby and he finally gets to meet baby Liebgott and get hitched haha.

Donald Malarkey:

-Excited and sad at the same time?? Doesn’t really know how to feel and is now worried about leaving you on your own with a baby. -Is also really worried he’ll never get to meet the baby and so he tries to make the most of the short times that you do have together. -Insists on getting married so that if he dies, you have some fallback money and something that will take care of you and the baby. -Probably cries about it when he’s alone because it was NOT the plan and he doesn’t think that you should have to put up with any of this stuff anyway. -Tries to find baby stuff in different towns that he can give to you when he gets back to you. -Wrote home to his mother immediately that she was going to be a grandmother lol.

Eugene Roe: (Big sad, I’m sorry):

-Was not intending on getting you pregnant but now that you are, he’s super excited and happy about it….and also terrified because pregnancy has so many complications anyway. -Prays avidly for your safety and for the baby’s safety as you two are figuring things out. Truth be told, it’s probably right around Bastogne that you both figure out that you ARE pregnant. -The guilt is real and he’s coming into the city as much as possible to try and see you and check on you. It’s cold, rations are low, and you’re working a lot anyway. -Now here’s where you’re all going to demand I pay for therapy (get in line kids). You survive the church collapsing but you lose the baby a few weeks later after some severe cramping and being sick. -And the thing is?? He’s horribly awfully and guiltily relieved because it’s probably safer for you this way and there was no way that either of you could have been parents right now. -But he does promise to marry you and that you’ll have more children one day.

Bill Guarnere:

-Finds out about it by accident when you’re telling another nurse and freaking out bc you don’t know what to do. And this man?? Baffled and shocked and trying to figure out what to say. -So he comes to you and quietly lets you know that he knows and is willing to do whatever you need/want for things. -You two get married right before D-Day and then he ships out. You two write letters back and forth faithfully for months. -Everyone knows you’re having a baby and that is the baby of Easy Company lol. -His accident in Bastogne happens and he gets shipped back to London and then back to the states and you go with him. -He’s in recovery when the baby is born and he’s happy about it because it’s really a new life for everyone tbh.

Joe Toye:

-You try to break up with him and the argument gets pretty nasty bc there’s no real reason for the breakup until you drop the bomb that you’re pregnant and he just??? Short circuits?? -He gets really soft and sweet about the entire thing and promises that he’s going to stay by your side through it. -So he writes his family ASAP and marries you in a church in his uniform. Then you’re getting sent back to your family and his and it’s a bit messy. -But he’s writing you and really excited to meet the kid….who is faithfully and dutifully born a few weeks before his accident in Bastogne. -He doesn’t even know the kid had been born until he gets back and there’s a lot of guilt and grief and feelings of inadequacy about the situation. -But he’s a great dad and a great husband so it all works out.

George Luz:

-is honestly trying to come up with every possibly outcome and solution so that he’s prepared for whatever decision you make. -You told him about it shortly after they returned from D-Day and he’s a little shocked (more than a little) and having a hard time keeping a lid on things. -He wanted a whole wedding that everyone could celebrate and be happy with, but going down to a courthouse with you and a few of the guys will do. -Gives the men of Easy Company updates on the pregnancy via letters from you all of the time. And you get the weirdest most random questions from them, I’m sure. -Narrowly survived Bastogne and was really struggling until your letters started coming through again. -Is really excited to meet the baby and see you again once things are over with the war.

[kawaiibarty]

black brothers headcanons

sirius has grey eyes, reg has blue

sirius has freckles on his face and regulus has moles all over his body

reg and sirius are almost equal in height (6'0/1") but sirius is obviously the taller one (he's not)

sirius is cis, biromantic homosexual and reg is ftm and gay.

sirius hid his "posh accent" during his hogwarts years until he started talking like remus/peter while regulus was "bullied" for talking like royalty (barty you asshat)

regulus and sirius are both fluent in french, classical greek and russian (i always had this hc that the black family are distantly related to russian royalty and because of their superiority complex they decided to integrate that into EVERYTHING THAT THEY DO, including the part about their children having the father's first name as their second [hence sirius orion black, and also why i feel regulus's choice in nomenclature, regulus arcturus black, is so important!!!! GUYSPLEASEASKMEABOUTITPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE])

sirius used to play piano but he's not so good anymore, he taught himself acoustic guitar. regulus is fluent in piano and sax. idk ive just always seen him being more into jazz than classical but he probably dabbles in some violin/viola too.

sirius has always been more into the rougher sports, definitely quidditch but it wasn't enough, totally took up ice hockey at some point at the potter house hold (he prefers contact sport) as well as tennis/badminton. regulus does figure skating and quidditch. maychance tennis.

sirius prefers to read books around 120 to 300 pages while regulus loves to drown himself in tomes over 700 pages.

sirius introduced reg to muggle authors such as alexander dumas and joseph conrad. sirius is more of a george orwell/charles dickons kinda guy

sirius's favourite genre in literature is dystopian/sci-fi, fantasy and drama while regulus is more into philosophy and legends as well as wiccan type shit ykwim???? and also historical dramas

sirius's favourite films are topgun, footloose and the terminator and obviously labyrinth, regulus cba to watch film and prefers musicals/other stage productions. his favourite is the phantom of the opera or hamlet depending on the day lol (projection mayhaps)

regulus is into britpop, emo/rock and post punk bands, eg: placebo (everyone stfu and let me cook), blur, pierce the veil, fall out boy, bauhaus, joy division etc etc. sirius is defos into glam rock, art rock, 80s pop, y'all get the picture, for example: david bowie (the obvious), t-rex (atyd fans, fuckin pull up), def leppard, queen (what's a sirius black depiction without some fat bottomed girls????) anyway im going over the word count chat

TW: abuse, homophobia etc etc (black family type shizzle)

sirius would take the blame for reg's mistakes (meaning he'd suffer the brunt of the abuse so that regulus doesn't have to though im sure as a fandom we've all collectively agreed that sirius has a silent saviour complex ft. fiercely loyal determination to protect his, and all of his loved ones' pride simultaneously)

regulus taught sirius morse code so that they could communicate in the house with minimal noise.

sirius taught regulus how to cut his hair after he came out as well as how to apply makeup to appear more masculine. he also provided reg with money for his transition when his parents started becoming too strict with their money after sirius was estranged.

regulus would write to james whenever sirius couldn't (GUYS OH MY GOD I HATE JT HERE)

uhm that's all for now folks, ask me for more if you dare.

[icarusbetide]

wtf was hamilton actually like

yet another long rant about how little i really know about hamilton! this is in regards to his personality because i can't get him down. i can't figure out what he would've been like in everyday life.

for any historical figure, we take explicitly documented traits and build off of them. even if it's clumsy, i'd be confident "predicting" how washington & jefferson usually act, etc. but for some reason, ham's characterization is all over the place. his recorded personality traits, also mixed with his political attitudes, often conflict and authors end up leaning into certain parts. for instance: there's flirty & flamboyant ham. there's prideful, arrogant, standoffish ham. there's bumbling politics ham, obtuse and belligerent 24/7 - aka musical ham, but that was an intentional choice. there's even kind and warm ham, which definitely seems accurate for his family and close friends least.

was he loud and intense 24/7? or was that just him during work, since we also know that he had a habit of mumbling to himself and looking like a daydreamer to spectators?

some people said that his general countenance was serious and austere, but we also know that he could be a charmer in social spaces. he was described as feminine but also as "martial". some have written that there's an "simplicity" in his manners, and a clear openness, but we also speculate that he closed off some part of his emotions after laurens' death. he was constantly worried about his loved ones' health, like him tucking in judge ford, but we also know that he could ghost people mercilessly. was he guarded or was he not?

i guess i can pinpoint how he might have interacted with select people, like eliza, his children, washington. but i don't know which side of him was shown in the majority of his interactions - what the "real" him, or at least common him, would've been.

one of my fav descriptions of him notes how even his speech fluctuated:

“His language is not always equal; sometimes didactic like Bolingbroke’s; at other times light and tripping, like Sterne’s. His eloquence is not so defusive as to trifle with the senses, but he rambles just enough to strike and keep up the attention...His manners are tinctured with stiffness and sometimes with a degree of vanity that is highly disagreeable. “

and i recall another anecdote about how he was serious and made intelligent conversation at dinner, but became more of the flirty charming persona afterwards while socializing.

like all human beings he was multifaceted, but damn. i really can't confidently say "oh if you ran into hamilton in the street he would be really polite/reserved/kind/charming."

i guess all of this goes to say that this guy was insanely complex and i'm not sure if anyone, let alone himself, really figured it out. that's definitely why i'm interested in him as a figure, but ugh. frustrating when i'm writing and can feel myself slipping into a common ham archetype that i don't think is 100% accurate. and we didn't even get into how much of that is "real" or - adams' version.

[nastasya--filippovna]

WHO IS CROWLEY AFTER THE FALL?

so there is a LOT of debate over who Crowley was before The Fall. I have seen a lot of headcanons going around the place saying he was Raphael or Kokabiel or Baraqiel.

I mean this is the Exhibit A for saying that Crowley is Baraqiel. I think NOT.

Because this is a handbook written by demons for demons. The title is literally (if my memory serves me right) a guide to angelic beings that walk the earth. SO Crowley is not That..

Other than the red hair thing, no other physical characteristic matches. This Baraqiel guy sounds like an absolute gremlin. grisly slug, occasionally damp. NOT CROWLEY. I mean she's the most dashing thing around.

NO. #3 It says CROWLEY one line above the name Baraqiel. If Crowley is Baraqiel then why would his demon name appear right under that?????

And I think somewhere Neil Gaiman refuted this theory (I'm not really sure but I think so plz don't come at me with pitchforks if I got it wrong). So.......

But this is all beside the point. What I'm trying to say is that too much has been said about who Crowley was before he fell. There is very little, if not none, that has been said about who he was After.

Some say that he's an insignificant demon or some loser guy in Hell or whatever the equivalent of an angel principality deputy on Earth is.

I BEG TO DIFFER.

He is Important. Just look at the kind of assignments he's given. Original Sin, Major Historical Temptations and Evil Acts, Delivering the Antichrist and bringing about Armageddidn't.

But who is he exactly??????????

So canonically we're never told what Crowley's rank in Hell is. But there are more that enough hints for us to figure that out for ourselves.

But where does one place him when the hierarchy is so complex and varying across different historical and theological sources.

Such as here:

I have been thinking about this and I have two current theories

Crowley is Astaroth

Crowley is The Leviathan

I'll discuss only one in this post. I'll save the other for the next post.

Now book!Omens clearly tells us that Crowley or Crawley is not his real demonic name. For those who haven't read the book this happens when Hastur Lavista and Ligur come to hand over the antichrist to Crowley in the churchyard and as he's about to sign his name as "Crowley" they tell him to sign his real demonic name.

Are you with me?!!!!!

NANNY ASHTORETH!

Why did she use this particular name for her nanny disguise. What if...... what if this IS her real demon name.

A lot of my real life friends are annoyed beyond measure by my constant ranting about etymologies, origin and construction of discourse and epistemology, especially when it comes to presenting my thesis over how all Abrahamic religions and their symbology and iconography is, how do I put it, inspired from pagan religions that they expunged. I mean the concept of angles, the man shaped being with wings that is actually just a ball of fire or eyes or hale discs or sth is a pagan Persian concept.

Back to the matter at hand.

Ashtoreth, Astaroth, Astarte, Ishtar, are all the same name in different dialects and languages. All of these refer to a certain Babylonian goddess. When the People of God probably cleansed off all the infidels they decided to literally demonize their god and name a demon after her. In Milton's Paradise Lost Astaroth is one of the three princes or Grand Dukes of Hell alongside Beelz and Lucifer. If this theory might be true Crowley is a Prince/Grand Duke of Hell.

Now this gets even more interesting. Ashtoreth, Astarte, whatever you may, is a goddess of fertility and is associated with childcare. I mean at this point I just stopped to marvel at the attention to detail that Mr. Gaiman's work hold, the smallest hidden meanings in the storytelling.

Another thing. The Babylonians built these temples called ziggurats to worship Astarte and they looked something like this

and this

they were also known as sky temples.

Because Astaroth was first and foremost the goddess of stars and the Babylonians were stargazers and the temples were constructed as a stairway to heaven to take them closer to the stars and functioned as an observatory at times.

I'm just imagining Crowley turning up in ancient Babylon and with her other-worldly looks, knowledge of the stars and compassion for children they just..... started to worship her.

Before the Christians came and declared them pagans and the rest is history.

Continued in next post for the second theory......

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap chapter 5 progress

In which Tim flirts with the sad thoughts but is not committed to them.

masterpost

Probably the best thing to do was to make sure everyone was happy with him. If he did everything that everybody wanted, there would be no issues. 

So, Tim finished his experiment for Miss Fox and sent her his report. The groceries arrived while he was finishing up. After he put it away, he made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it one-handed while he looked up the address that Jason had told him about. 

“That's pretty far away,” Tim mused. Some grape jelly dropped onto the keyboard. He swiped it up with his sleeve. He was a little less careful about the apartment now that he knew it was Big Tim’s place and not someone important or mean. 

Huh.

Tim paused mid contemplation. Speaking of important people, where was Mom? (And also Dad.) He turned his head around looking for the most recent post card. He usually kept that on the fridge.

Apparently, Big Tim had lost the habit. The dig post card tacked to the fridge was years old. Tim took it down and read it anyway, smiling at Mom’s handwriting. It was neat and precise, just like her. 

He felt better. He'd figure it out later. Tim put a pin on the thought and went back to focusing on his- on Jason's request. He squirmed in his chair while he thought it through.

The address was in a residential neighborhood, the kind with separate houses and not apartment complexes. The suspect himself lived in a duplex. The other half of the duplex was registered to a retiree who Tim didn't find any digital trail of, other than that her Social security checks were being cashed and her bills were paid on time. Oh, neat, she had been part of Gotham’s historical recreation society. She seemed kinda cool.

She had crazy huge electric bills, though. Tim frowned at that. He wasn't absolutely sure. But he thought that most people didn't have electric bills in excess of $600 monthly. How was she even affording that off of her Social security income? 

“Maybe the neighbor killed her and is using her apartment for nefarious purposes,” Tim reasoned aloud. “He's chasing her check and concealing the death. Maybe he uses her apartment to store his industrial sausage making machines.” 

It was a bit of a reach but it seemed a little more likely than his follow-up idea: her hobby was running every appliance in her house at the same time for all the hours that she was awake.

Focus, Tim! How was he going to surveil this place?

It wasn’t like there were any nice big buildings with dramatic awnings and gargoyles to creep around. It was suburbia. 

Tim spun around on his chair miserably, hands on his head to help him think.

Were there any abandoned homes in the area that he could use as a viewpoint? He checked on that. No. No, there weren’t. Dangit. He looked up everyone who lived in the neighborhood, wondering if there might be like, a family on vacation or someone whose second floor was unoccupied. He didn’t see anything useful like that. There were just a bunch of families with little kids.

He spun faster. Maybe the centrifugal force would somehow jar his brain awake.

“There’s nothing for it,” Tim decided ruefully. “I have to go undercover as a child.”

He put on the light up sneakers that he had ordered, washed his face, and made sure he had enough money for the bus. Then he set off on an adventure with a little notepad in his pocket. When he got to the apartment lobby he realized that he probably should have brought Big Tim’s phone, but oh well. It was too far now.

He took three buses and walked twenty minutes. He arrived in the right neighborhood in the early evening, around 5 pm. He looked for rogue groups of playing kids to join in. He’d do whatever game they were playing, then subtly interrogate them.

Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone was inside eating dinner. Tim frowned at one window. He could see a table being set.

Weird.

Alright, new plan. The old lady neighbor was probably dead, so he could just sneak into her half of the duplex, find a place to hide, and observe whatever sick and twisted stuff Jason’s bad guy did. Then he could tell Jason about it later, and he would like Tim.

He tried the backdoor. It was locked. Tim skulked around the house and tried windows until he found one that was open. He had to scramble a bit to climb up the siding to get into the house but he managed it. He hit the floor with a tumble.

“I have a mace!” said a female voice. “I am prepared to use it upon you!”

Tim rolled over to see the retiree. “Oh,” he said. “Hello.” He was a little disappointed that he was wrong about her being dead, though of course it’s always nice when someone isn’t murdered.

Mrs. Henderson yanked open a drawer and withdrew her mace. She pointed it at him steadily over her walker.

“Whoa,” said Tim. “That’s really cool. That’s Gothic, right?”

She looked at her mace. “...I believe so,” she said. “Get out of my home!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Tim said, deliberately not agreeing. He sat up and crossed his legs. “I didn’t realize that you lived here.”

Mrs. Henderson slowly lowered her Gothic mace, which was probably a replica of one from Western Europe and weighed about 2 kilograms. “...Did you mean to go next door?” she said, sounding more confused and less hostile. 

“Yeah, I got mixed up,” Tim lied like a champion. “I accidentally locked myself out and no one is home.”

Although that really wouldn’t be true for much longer. Hm. Maybe Tim should have waited until tomorrow to come by.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

💀_is this deviant enough for you, my dear? _💀

or jon makes some deliberate changes to his outfit, after catwoman said that he's not 'a real pervert'.

...

(i was re-reading all those 'crow vs 'cat issues recently, an' i gotta say i don't ever get tired of how much those two genuinely loathe one another. there is smth beautiful about one part of my otp pretty much having it out for a character, who is canonically supposed to be the 'main' love interest for the other part of my ship. internalized jealousy is delicious.

that's bit aside, i do find crane n' selina's antagonistic relationships pretty entertaining in the void as well. they are both petty n' tend to take a lot of things personally, while dehumanizing others with ease. looking at selina n' jon side by side, their hatred toward one another makes a lot of sense. they are similar in certain *smaller* ways. selina might have not crossed the line n' becoming a murder, but in few versions, it came very close to it. or even come to it. not to mention, that while her own motivations are different from crane's, she also driven by her bitter life experience, when it comes to how she sees others n' how she acts. at times, she'd be doing shitty things just bc she felt like it. her sociopathy is latent in most cases, but it is there.

but regardless of complexity of all those themes, this whole thing was born only bc i found it funny how out of all things, selina n' jon had an argument about who get offs on fear harder lol. n' then, bc of how the very moment catwoman hallucinated batman, jonathan was literally almost in her face lol. listening to all those things with rapt attention.

as result, i ended up thinking about what if crane took selina's comment a bit too seriously. i imagine, he was sitting there trying to study what makes 'pervented' n' 'sexy'. but in like very nerdy way. drawing diagrams an' all.

the scarecrow historically has no impressive man bossom or ass, so he has to be clever about it. expose some skin, but like 'naugthy' bits. it helps that the way his costume is structured, fabric will always poof up a bit. so even his semi-muscular man pecs n' narrow hips can work too. an' then it should be short too. v-cut. n' stockings? yeah, sure. the greatest detective would take it upon himself to figure out what they're cliping to. an' what else is hidden underneath.

i still stan by my belief that jonathan can only be seductive or sexy by pure accident. but it is fun to think about how far he can go, if he's challenged n' his pettyness is what drives him to go out of comfort zone.

in general, i love how different this version of jonathan's costume is compared to his other looks. it's still classic, but so colorful an' whimsical. i wish he wore it at least one time in front of batman in canon. like come on, let my dude live out his goth fantasy. n' let bruce have some fun on his usually hard n' grim job.)

[philsmeatylegss]

Have seen very little discussion on this website about the situation in Haiti and figured maybe I’d try to start the conversation?

For those who aren’t aware, Haiti is the only country that led a successful slave rebellion which led to the establishment of an independent country, and a day hasn’t passed where they haven’t been punished for it. The country never had a chance to flourish as the west made sure to suck it economically dry and then dip when nothing was left.

This has left the country horrifically unstable in every way possible. However, the last few years, it has been on the brink of collapse due to absolutely no political leadership and as of now, Haiti has completely collapsed. The country is mostly run by gangs all competing for power. There is no where for refugees to escape. The west has completely abandoned any meaningful intervention and it has mostly been South American, Middle Eastern, and African countries who only seem interested in trying to bring peace. But since 2024 has begun, it is a terrifying place to be full of completely innocent people being screwed over by the west for standing up for themselves.

Of course, this is heavily over simplified and I have no personal connection to Haiti. So under the cut, I’m adding much more accurate and insightful information, as well as fundraisers, books, petitions, and Haitian run businesses and social media accounts. As someone who is studying history, it doesn’t take long to realize most nations struggling today have been victimized for wanting autonomy and freedom. From Palestine to Sudan, to DRC to Ukraine, there is so much preventable tragedy. As someone from a country who has historically inflicted these conditions on a lot of these nations, it’s frustrating to feel powerless to the injustice. I truly find the only thing that puts my mind at peace is education and spreading awareness. Don’t let their suffering be in vain.

*please correct me if any of this information is inaccurate*

Basic information:

Wikipedia

HAITI: A Brief History of a Complex Nation

Britannica: History of Haiti

How Haiti Was Forced To Pay Reparations For Freedom

[video] A Super Quick History of Haiti

The Root of Haiti's Misery: Reparations to Enslavers

Timeline: Haiti’s History and Current Crisis, Explained

[video] Why Haiti is in a Constant State of Emergency

A Brief History Of Haiti

The Haitian Revolution and the Hole in French High-School History

[video] How the World Destroyed Haiti

A Timeline of Haiti

Haiti: a history of intervention, occupation and resistance

[video] Fighting for Haiti

How Toussaint L’ouverture Rose from Slavery to Lead the Haitian Revolution

The Disappearing Land : Haiti, History, and the Hemisphere

History of Haiti

A History of United States Policy Towards Haiti

What is the history of foreign interventions in Haiti?

Haitian history and culture: A selection of online resources

Books:

The Black Jacobins: Toussaint l'Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution

The Haitian Revolution

Silencing the Past

Fault Lines: Views across Haiti's Divide

Awakening the Ashes: An Intellectual History of the Haitian Revolution

Haiti: The Tumultuous History

Written in Blood: The Story of the Haitian People 1492-1971

The Haitians: A Decolonial History

Why the Cocks Fight: Dominicans, Haitians, and the Struggle for Hispaniola

Outrage for Outrage: A History of Colonialism in Haiti and Its Legacy

Avengers of the New World: The Story of the Haitian Revolution

Black Spartacus: The Epic Life of Toussaint Louverture

The Black Republic: African Americans and the Fate of Haiti

The Farming of Bones

The Rainy Season: Haiti Since Duvalier

The Uses of Haiti

The Butterfly’s Way: Voices from the Haitian Dyaspora in the United States

Charities:

*rating of 80+ on charitynavigator*

Hands Helping Haiti

Heartline Haiti

Hope for Haiti

Haiti Outreach

US Foundation for the Children of Haiti

Hands Together for Haitians

Haiti Empowered

Mission of Hope Haiti International

Haitian Health Foundation

Haiti Partners

Haiti Cardiac Alliance

New Life for Haiti

Locally Haiti

Clean Water for Haiti

Meds & Food for Kids

Haitian Roots

Project Medishare for Haiti

Friends of the Children of Haiti

Childrens Nutrition Program of Haiti

Fundraisers

Haiti Crisis Relief Fund

Haiti Emergency Fundraiser

Urgent Need to Complete Our Haitian Adoptions

Desperate Plea to Help Haitian Family

Haiti Food Emergency

Help a Deaf Haitian restore his life in Maryland

Help a friend get her sister & 3 kids out of Haiti

Daniel Jean - Haitian friend relocate to the US

Help Support My Family in Haiti

Support Young Haitian Artists!

Haitian Artists Need Your Help

PLEASE HELP and PRAY for OUR FAMILY IN HAITI

Help My Mother and Brother from HAITI PLEASE

Urgent Help for Marc Henry and his family in Haiti

Help Michaël in Humanitarian and Political Crisis in Haïti

Lycender Chery & Family

Trapped in Port au Prince, Haiti

Help Rosemica have surgery for her tumor!

Help My Family escape from ruthless gangs

Haitian Orphanage School: Classique Mixte du Rivag

Help Support a Hard Working Mother of Two

Haiti Emergency Relief of artist community

Help Save Gabe's Life and get him from Haiti to US

Aid for Haitian Artist Mario and his Granddaughter

Haitian-Owned Businesses

Kreyol Essence

LS Cream Liqueur

Creole Me Up

Caribbrew

Tisaksuk

Fanm Djanm

Makaya Chocolate

Kòmsi Like

Créations Dorées

Aeva Beauty

Levie's Essential Care

Bel Ti Boujique

It’s Seasoned™

Cremas Absalon

Kreyol Pale Creole Konprann

VagEsteem

Bijou Lakay

V.BELLAN

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

◇ The Lady In Armour - King Baldwin x Reader: Part 2 (Final Part) ◇

◇ Long Fic ◇

A/N: Hello! This is part 2 of a fic I wrote a few days ago requested by the lovely @lzsia! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven and not the real historical figures. This will be the last part (mainly because it would hurt too much to write a charicter death😭) but also because I think it wrapped up nicely, I hope everyone agrees! This is set pre-film. Enjoy!

PS: Also this has a desctiption of y/n

TW: Leprosy, mentions of death

Y/n was unsure how to approach this conversation. She was unprepared for such an informal meeting. When Tiberias told her that the king would be “deciding her fate”, she expected a trial to decide if she lives or dies. Not a personal conversation about her past. But nevertheless, if the king was prepared to be kind and spare her life, she would take it over being sentenced to death.

“Well, I was never supposed to be in the battle. It was a mistake” y/n began. “I was a mercenary in Saladin’s army and I was tricked into joining by a man who I belived was my friend” she paused, unwilling to go much further. She was not willing to share such details of her life with a man she had just met, royalty or not.

“Interesting,” Baldwin replied after a few moments. “And how did you come to be a mercenary?” he pressed. Y/n felt unsure of this. It seemed that he was questioning her for information on how to proceed in punishing her. But his eyes told a different story. He looked genuinely interested in what she had to say. He was a very complex man, nowhere near as simple minded as the other men in the mercenaries.

“I left my family when I was 14 to join. My father had been a mercenary as well, I wished to avenge his death since he had no sons to do it for him” y/n stated.

“That was a very kind thing for you to have done,” Baldwin smiled kindly. Y/n was suprised by his words. “Thank you sir” she attempted to hide her confusion. “If I may ask a question, your majesty? y/n added quickly. “Of course,” he answered just as fast.

“Why have I not been executed? Or enslaved? You have treated me with the utmost respect and yet I am a prisoner of war. Why is that?” She was sure by now he knew how suspicious she was of his compassion.

Baldwin sighed before speaking. “Well, last night when I saw you for the first time, you intrested me. Your strength in the face of death was admirable, I had to know more about you”. Now it was y/n’s turn to listen intently. Nobody had ever said something like that to her before. Most men in her hometown simply complemented her looks or body, not her strength.

She couldn't help but smile at his honesty. “That is very kind of you to say. Truth be told, I was suspicious of your compassion, but truly you are the most intriguing man I have ever met. With your permission I would love to get to know you also” Baldwin was pleasantly surprised by her reply. She had a fabulous way with words, more so than any woman he had ever met. “That would be wonderful,” he replied. “Can you play chess?” he added, gesturing to the small table on the opposite side of the room. “Yes, my father taught me” 

“Excellent, would you care to play?” he offered enthusiastically.

Y/n chuckled at his excitement, “yes, I would love to”. 

----------------

The two played in silence. She was far better than he assumed her to be and more than once she had him completely backed into a corner. Yet another thing about her that shocked him. The game went on for a long while until y/n called out, “check mate”. Baldwin was lost for words. She was incredible. He had not even noticed that she could win in one more move. Y/n grinned when she noticed his widened eyes and bewildered expression. He turned his head from the board to meet her eye.

“You had me interested madame, but now you have me but now have me encapsulated”. Y/n tilted her head to the side, her smile never changed.

“There is much more to me than this”

“And I will listen until I hear everything there is to tell” he replied.

The two played one more game of chess until the sun sunk below the horizon. The candle light and the setting sun bathed the room in a warm glow.

They wished they had more time together, but soon the king's physicians would soon arrive to clean his wounds and change his bandages. They said their farewells and made arrangements to see eachother again the following afternoon before two guards escorted y/n back to the servant chambers. Baldwin had requested that she not be kept in the dungeon with the other prisoners. She was far too precious for that.

Once his physicians concluded their work and departed from his chambers, the king lay on his bed, thinking. Just as he had done the night before. But this time, his thoughts were far happier. The day had gone perfectly. She was incredible. Her sharp mind had him amazed. He desperately wanted to hear more about her. Perhaps even tell her some things about himself. Her beautiful face was the last thing to cross his mind before he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

On the other side of the castle, y/n was in a very similar situation. The king had her intrigued as much as she had him interested. He was very different to what she had assumed. She believed he would be arrogant, as many men his age were. But not at all. He was very wise for his age and surprisingly kind. Not only that, but he was far more attractive than she expected.

The bandages around his nose and cheeks somehow added to his already perfect face. His golden blonde hair looked soft and his eyes were like a clear blue sky. She had no idea what was happening to her. Being attracted to a man such as him came with risks. Perhaps he was using her for information on Saladin’s army? She had to remain focused and not allow her feelings to get in the way. But she couldn't deny the fact that these feelings were definitely at the front of her mind.

Y/n lay awake for a few more hours before finally closing her eyes and allowing herself to fall into a light sleep.

-----------------

The next morning y/n was awake early. The small group of servant women from yesterday had provided her with a new set of clothing. She cleaned up her appearance and waited in the servant chambers to be retrieved and escorted to the king. She found herself looking forward to seeing him. She wondered what they would do together. What questions he would ask while watching her with his full attention. A smile crossed her face at the thought of that. 

Finally Tiberias, accompanied by two guards, arrived to escort her. They made a few different turns than yesterday causing y/n to feel suspicion creep up again. She was almost tempted to ask where they were going, but thought best to stayed silent.

Finally, they came to an archway that led to the castle courtyard. The suspicion drained away when she saw the king sitting on a bench close to the arch, reading a book.

He looked up and smiled when he saw them. “Good afternoon my lady,” he greeted her, kissing her hand gently. “Good afternoon, your majesty,” she replied. “Leave us,” Baldwin told the guards. They turned to walk away, Tiberias followed. 

“Now, shall we take a walk?” the king asked, holding out an arm for her to hold. “Of course” y/n replied warmly, taking his arm.

The gardens of the castle were beautiful. Something out of a fairy tale. The grass was impossibly green, and every flower was brighter than the last. The courtyard was massive, giving them plenty of time to enjoy eachothers company. The two spoke of many things, but y/n avoided talking too much about herself, hoping Baldwin would not notice.

He did infact notice. “Enough about me, how about yourself? You mentioned leaving your family. Do you have any siblings?” he asked curiously. “Yes I do, three most unpleasant sisters” she replied.

Baldwin chuckled at that. “And I believed growing up with one was enough!”

Y/n grinned. “Yes, three of them was more than enough sisterly-experience for me. They disliked me as much as my mother did” 

“Was your mother against you joining the mercenaries?” he asked

“Very much so, she refused to allow me to even approach my fathers sword for fear that I would ‘get ideas’. But my mind was made up the second I received word of my fathers death”

Baldwin hummed in reply, obviously deep in thought at the statement. 

The pair sat down on a small grassy hill and continued to speak of y/n’s family. She finally gave in a little and told him about her experience in the mercenaries, her family's disapproval of her behavior and how her father was the only one in her family to fan the flame of her spirit.

It was early evening when a small framed servant woman came to tell the two that dinner had been prepared.

“Would you care to join me for dinner y/n?” the king asked. Up until this point, she had been eating whatever leftovers were brought to the servant chambers. “I would love to, but are prisoners supposed to dine with royalty?” she asked coyly, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. Baldwin smiled, “from now on, you are no longer a prisoner. You are a guest”.

------------------

The dinner was just the two of them on account of everybody else being preoccupied with other duties. It was pleasant for both of them.

Y/n appreciated the food being still warm this time, enjoying the first good meal she had in months. Maybe years. Once they had finished, it was already dark outside. Baldwin suggested that they go to his chambers to continue their conversation. 

------------------

“Y/n, may I tell you something?” the young king asked once they were both settled. “Of course you can,” she replied, quickly becoming curious. Baldwin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I really like you y/n” He paused. “I know we have only known each other for a few days, but you are the most wonderful person I have ever met. I do not want you to leave. I do not want this to end” he took her hand in his. “I have been alone for so long and I believed I would be alone forever, but you have seen past my disease and right into my heart”.

Y/n felt warmth swell in her chest. She refused to deny her feelings any longer. For the first time in her life, she let go of logic and thought with her heart. And her heart wanted him. “I am not going to leave you Baldwin. It feels like I have known you for my whole life. And i think-” she paused, but she shook away the urge to think this through “I love you”. In a matter of seconds, their lips were locked together.

There was no regret shared when they pulled away. “I love you too y/n” he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. He tried not to blink so as to not let them fall but she noticed. She always noticed. She placed a hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb softly. “There is no need to cry. I'm right here and I am not leaving you” she said warmly.

The young king smiled, his lip quivering slightly. He turned away so she could not see him like this, but she used the hand on his cheek to turn his face back to look at her, meeting his tear filled eyes. She wiped his tears with her thumb. “Why are you crying?” she said sweetly. “I just never thought this day would come. Someone with a disease such as mine does not deserve such love and kindness, much less from an angel like you” his voice was shaky. He cursed himself for being so weak in front of her.

But she simply cupped her hands around his face.”You deserve the world Baldwin. You showed me kindness even though I am a prisoner. You have such a beautiful soul and your disease does not define you. Never forget that” her words were so gentle. He wanted to cry in her arms and never leave. It took all of his strength to prevent himself from sobbing. He could barely get a single word out, just nodded his head quickly. Y/n opened her arms, bringing him against her chest.

He could not hold back anymore. He sobbed into her shoulder. Every suppressed emotion he had felt since his life changed forever at the diagnosis came out in that moment.

Y/n laid back on the couch so he could lay down on top of her. He was surprisingly light for his athletic build. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cried into her chest for a long time while y/n rubbed his back, occasionally kissing the top of his head.

Finally, his breathing evened out and his body relaxed. Y/n looked down to see his eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Her heart melted at the sight. He had fallen asleep on her chest, it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen.

No doubt about it, she had a soft spot for him. A soft spot in her heart that she didn't even know existed. But he had crawled inside nonetheless. She leant her head back and grinned, this was the happiest she had felt in her entire life despite the circumstances. She decided at that moment that she could wait no longer. She wanted to marry this man.

She heard his breathing deepen into soft snoring as he fell further into sleep. She wanted to stay awake as long as she could to watch over him. She watched his back rise and fall with each deep, even breath.

Y/n remained awake the entire night just admiring him. She was not even tired by morning. Something about seeing him in such a peaceful rest made her feel more refreshed than any amount of sleep could.

------------------------

It was a week later exactly that Baldwin asked for her hand in marriage. He waited until the perfect moment to ask. They had gone out riding that morning, planning to spend the entire day together. They had stopped to allow their horses to rest for a moment atop a hill when he asked. There was nobody around for miles. Just them. It was perfect. They were married the very same month, and as requested by the king, y/n took comand of the army of Jerusalem. And she went down in history, forever known as The Lady in Armour.

[tartsinarat]

Ngl was thinking about this whilst drawing some toh au stuff while watching doctor who in the background but I really feel like Pip would really be into the toh version of doctor who.

no idea what it would be called tho in the owl house but Pip’s into it for obvious reasons of sci-fi but also occasionally randomly fantasy?? show, which has chaotic mess of lore that makes no sense whatsoever (I say this with extreme love tho) and has a main character who’s a mad genius and criminal who stole a time machine and ran away to explore the universe and time which I feel meshes very well into what Pip would enjoy

Like I don’t see him enjoying space frontier as it’s pretty much Star Trek and that show has an really optimistic grand view of the future, it focus mostly on the good of people as a whole and that anything can be achieved if people work together and put their minds to it, I can see why Hunter and Gus would enjoy it which I find really sweet and adorable

On the other hand Doctor who has a very complex but pessimistic view on people/the universe, it mainly focuses on the crazy situations that a lonely alien on who’s constantly running away but desperately trying their best at all times to either atone for what they did in the past or to help people across time and space which I think Pip would find more interesting and relatable.

He’d also probably think that all the historical stuff in doctor who is real and that Britain is just constantly getting invaded by aliens.

Funniest thing though about him discovering Doctor who is Pip finally learning what a British person is, and that he’s got a British accent himself as I’m pretty sure there’s literally no one on the boiling isles other than Belos and Pip have that accent so he wondered where it’s from.

Pip also enjoys this show even more because time travel is a concept in toh, soooooooo the guy is just itching to figure out how to make a real Tardis, the only thing stoping him is that he’s in the human realm and in the demon realm the titan themselves was like “nope not even risking it” and decided to never allow him to be able to find a time pool again (he was apart of the events of elsewhere and elsewhen along side Luz and Lilith… it was awkward between him and Philip to say the least but it was more on Pips part because he was like” holy shit is he an older me?? Or my great great- something?? grandad what is going on???” So he didn’t know how to react to that and neither did Luz who was like yep they’re related, and Philip was like “what a strange hooded kid, I didn’t know that demons could mimic accents and appearances so well, I should be stay wary of that abomination and slay it when I have the time”. Oh yeah Pip does almost get killed but Lilith springs into action and does the badass punch to stop Philip. Ngl I’ll have to draw this as a comic at some point because it’s interesting to imagine/draw)

As well I had some ideas of him in thanks to them dressed up in a nerdy doctor cosplay which I found fun but idk if that’ll end up being what I draw him as for his Halloween costume, all three were picked because they all had similar Pip personality wise and I feel like he would relate most to these three in particular;

Like Pip, 10 is pretty much a wild card personality wise depending on the situation he can either be a sad destructive arrogant bastard with a slight god complex who takes matters into his own hands because he believes that he’ll make the right decision without thinking about the consequences or be a lonely silly guy who rambles a lot and is always running around and just wants to have fun.

1 is a grumpy trickster that has strong opinions about right and wrong, he also appears rude or uncaring but actually cares a lot and is the guy who ran away and stole a fucking time machine. He and 14 (14 is basically a mature 10 but I was tempted to go with him instead of 10 but he doesn’t have the ego problem so 10 it was lmao) fought a god like being that’s from another dimension thats obsessed with playing games.

4 is a bit of an odd ball though, he’s the weirdest doctor out of the bunch. He’s pretty silly, but at times he’s shifts into being quite callous and broody but still has a heart of gold. As well as 4 seems to struggle a lot in acting human as he’s pretty distant, aloof and alien at points, he even emphasises a lot throughout his run how he’s not human. Which I feel Pip would find extremely relatable as well as enjoying 4’s adventurist spirit and his extreme hatred of authority.

I think 4 is Pips favourite so he’d most likely cosplay as him during thanks to them.

Omg almost completely forgot to mention but I didn’t add his scar on purpose, he’s used illusion magic to remove it to make the cosplay more accurate and because his curse at that point is showing more physically on his body at this point in season 3 (he goopy 😔) and I can imagine it’s hard to explain to people in public why you a rotting infected looking green scar across your face and an even worse looking arm that’s weirdly proportioned to your body.

[kleftiko]

❦ HOUSE OF SILVER

cw: mature themes (paid sexual favours), implied historical violence, historical ideologies regarding sex, fem!reader

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The Edo period—the final era of feudal Japan. daimyos, samurais, and the common class, all with a purpose to help society. After her father lost his money and status when she was a child, y/n works as a maid in a teashop, following courtesans and cleaning up after their jobs. When the head of the Gojo clan comes in one night, she doesn’t expect to see him again, much less have him call on her.

It isn't often you get to witness midday, and the cool breeze that accompanies it is a welcome feeling. The leaves rustle gently, creating a soothing melody that adds to the tranquility of the moment. Gojo stands beside you, waiting patiently as you take in the scenery.

"So, who are the Kamos and the Zen'ins?" You ask.

Gojo admitted that he suspects you to be a part of one of these two families, though he isn't sure which. He explained that the Kamos and the Zen'ins are two powerful and influential families with a long history of conflict and rivalry, but not much after that.

"Sorcerer clans," he says.

"Sorcerers?" You prompt, not knowing the term.

"Those who fight curses." He shrugs, and you huff a bit at the lack of information he's giving you.

You ask again, "Curses?"

"Those creatures you see, but others don't." He points towards a shadowy figure lurking far behind a tree, its eerie presence sending shivers down your spine. "They're a manifestation of negative emotions."

He explains that the Kamo and Zen'in bloodlines are known for their exceptional abilities, making them highly respected within the sorcerer community. However, their differences in ideologies and methods have led to a deep-rooted animosity between them, causing frequent clashes and power struggles.

You take a pause.

"And you're a sorcerer?"

He nods with a small smile that, on the surface, seems prideful but feels hollow. "The most powerful, yes."

It makes you think for a second; your senses just taking in the details of his face. There's a hint of weariness in his beautiful eyes and remnants of bags underneath, indicative of a poor night's sleep, or possibly many. You notice the slight creases between his brows, suggesting a constant state of tension or worry. His gaze flicks down at you, that teasing smile creeping on his lips.

"What?" He asks, his voice laced with amusement. It's a voice that carries a touch of arrogance, yet there's also a warmth that draws you in.

It makes you blink out of your thoughts.

"Why do they want me now?" You don't mean to voice your thoughts out loud, but you can't help it with the way his gaze strips you down.

"Well," his tone is unbothered. "I imagine their only concern would be marrying you off."

His response causes you to raise your eyebrows in confusion. "Marrying me off? But what about abilities?"

He chuckles softly, the sound carrying a hint of bitterness. "In some clans, power and potential mean very little compared to political alliances and social status."

You look out onto the landscape of the school again. The tall trees atop the hill that overlook the city stretch out before you, seemingly untouched by the complexities of society. The beauty of nature offers a temporary escape from the constraints and expectations you imagine come with being a sorcerer. Perhaps that's why the school is placed here—for an ounce of serenity.

"Is that why you frequented Madame Ino's teahouse? To find me?"

Gojo changes the subject. "How about we try some sparring?"

You furrow your brows at him, and you can't help but feel a sense of weariness at the mention of sparring. The idea of testing your skills against him fills you with a sense of unwanted anticipation, especially after his declaration of being the strongest. Or maybe it’s because you don’t know how you’ll handle yourself if he’s close enough to touch you.

"I don't know how to fight..." You admit, feeling your heart heart a bit harder against your chest.

However, Gojo's eyes still twinkle with amusement.

"You need to start somewhere." He says. "Your sex is not a concern of mine when it comes to this. Curses will come at you without discrimination."

You take a deep breath, hoping to keep your composure together as you see him take a step back. It’s a casual starting pose he takes, unlike your clumsy one, but you roll your shoulders back anyway and prepare yourself.

And just as soon as you start, Gojo has you pinned down.

He's too fast. His movements are a blur that leave you struggling to keep up. Despite your best efforts, with your very limited knowledge, it becomes clear that Gojo's speed and skill surpass you by miles.

Your back hits the ground rather forcefully, a whimper of pain sounding from your frowning lips as you close your eyes.

"Oww..." you whine, looking up at Gojo atop you with a pout.

He has a grin on his face, one different from the smiles you've previously seen. This one has a menacing twist to it, as if he's relishing in your defeat. It dawns on you that Gojo is not just an incredibly strong opponent, but also someone who enjoys the thrill of overpowering others.

It completely distracts you from the feeling of his large hands gripping your wrists and holding them above your head or the feeling of the warmth from his chest that was pressed up against yours, even though it probably wasn't the most tactical move to keep you down.

But what got you heated was his leg pressed up between yours, creating an intimate and electrifying tension that sends shivers down your spine.

His head tilts, dangerous look still in his eyes.

"Are you not feeling well?" His voice is teasing.

You make a pathetic noise.

The back of his hand releases your arm and slowly trails down your face.

"You're burning up." His voice is low.

And his touch sends a jolt of desire coursing through your veins, making it hard to focus on anything else. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, unable to form a coherent response.

You can’t help but melt into his attention, feeding off of his touch and gaze on you. His presence is both captivating and unsettling, leaving you torn between fear, an inexplicable attraction, and a confidence you didn't have when you entered the room that night before. Your hips buck slightly, and you don't know if it's an attempt to get closer or further from him, but it makes Gojo raise his brow at you and look down to where you're brushing against him.

When he meets your gaze again, it's hungry. His eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sends fire through your skin. The air between you crackles with an electric tension, as if something powerful is about to unravel, and you feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation.

You gulp, becoming numb through your body, until the only feeling you have is a scorching sensation where you two meet and the pounding of your heart in your ears. Before you can crane your head closer to his, wanting to bask in all of him, Gojo lets go, moving out of your grasp and filling the space between you with a frost-like feeling.

The hunger in his eyes diminishes as quickly as it came.

"That's not very smart," he says, looking down at you as he gets up and stands to his full height. "Especially if your estranged family wants you untouched before they sell you off."

Your heart drops. You feel a wave of fear and confusion wash over you as Gojo's words sink in. The reminder of how easy it is for flesh and blood to betray you for their own gain leaves you feeling cheated and vulnerable. It's a harsh reminder of the cruel world you find yourself trapped in and cannot escape, no matter where you go.

The virtue of women that this world values is reduced to a mere commodity, bought and sold at the whim of those in power. The weight of societal expectations and the pressure to conform becomes even more suffocating as you recall that your worth is determined solely by your ability to be traded like property.

"Untouched?" Your voice is soft, drawing out to see if what he means is what you think.

The look he gives you is enough to confirm.

And you realize that, if you weren't already, once they found out, you would be damaged property in their eyes. The flimsy promise of your first love comes back to you, as does the deal you made in exchange for the commitment you made to marry each other, only for him to leave afterwards.

"And..." You hesitate, suddenly feeling like a little girl again. "If I'm not... untouched?"

You can't distinguish the look on the Daimyo's face. His expression remains inscrutable, leaving you uncertain of how he will respond. The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and you brace yourself for his judgment.

But he squats down to your eye level, arms resting on his legs with a casual air.

"Like I said," he says, "it doesn't matter to me, but I can't say the same for the other clans."

The words do not reassure you in the slightest. You feel a surge of anxiety as the Daimyo's words sink in. The mention of the other clans only intensifies your fear of their potential judgment and repercussions.

"And what happens then?"

Gojo looks away from you, gazing off into the distance as if lost in thought. His silence stretches on, making you even more uneasy. Finally, he turns back to you and admits, "I don't know."

But he doesn't let you ruminate any longer, as he grabs your hands with a gentle touch you have never experienced from him and helps you stand up. He lets go of your fingers to smooth down your hair, and you almost melt into his touch.

"We'll continue this tomorrow." He tells you. "Go to sleep for now."

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