#and will absolutely be edited as time goes on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scrumptiousmongerhumanoidshark · 1 day ago

Text

Zagreus SFW and NSFW alphabets ♥️, for my friend @ember1224

≿———————— ❈ ————————≾

SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Zagreus is extremely affectionate to his friends, as we see in the game, he offers you as much nectar as you’ll accept, and once you stop accepting nectar he’s giving you Ambrosia until you demand he stops.

Zagreus also shows his affection by standing close to you, or having a hand on your shoulder as you walk together.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Oh if you’re his best friend you’re going to get so much gossip.

He will tell you anything and everything- Achilles and Patroclus have a small argument? You know every detail before even Hermes does. Charon was caught being affectionate to Hermes? You’re helping him spread the news across the house.

You’d undoubtably meet him by being a servant to the house, someone he’s known for a long time and already has a small bond with.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Zagreus adores cuddling, he cuddles by literally yanking you into his lap, putting his head on your shoulder while he yaps about his day/night. He’s so giddy about it, arms loosely around you as he holds a new book of legends and myths that he’s had edited and he’s reading it to you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Zagreus is absolutely down to settle down with a partner, the only bad part is he’s very uh… well he has no culinary skills and his ‘cleaning’ is mostly shoving clothes under his bed and into whatever crevices he can find.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Zagreus would definitely be far more polite than most when it comes to breaking up. He’d probably bring you into his room and apologize, comforting that it wasn’t your fault but he’s just no longer interested in you. He’d still be down to be best friends, but if you didn’t want to be he’d understand completely.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Zagreus, as we all know, is impulsive as FUCK. He’d be down to get married if you even show a little attraction back to him. He will commit if he thinks you’ll commit.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s uh.. he’s a little dense, but that’s ok. He’s not the most emotionally gentle guy out there, I mean, have you seen how his dad deals with everything?

Nonetheless, he’s very physically gentle, he knows his own strength very well and he (somewhat) knows when to use it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Zagreus adores hugs, he will yank you into a bone crushing (not literally) hug every time he sees you, grinning like an idiot.

Zagreus will hug you every time he sees you, even if he only saw you a few minutes ago, you will not escape the hugs from the Prince of the underworld.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He says “I love you” very quickly, right as he confesses, actually. Every morning he will wake you up with praises, kisses all along your shoulder and neck, and him mumbling “I love you” against your skin.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Zagreus will only get jealous if you’re getting ‘too’ close with someone he knows, then he’ll basically turn into a ‘big scary dog’ and hover over your shoulder pouting.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Zagreus’ kisses are soft, but quick, usually on your forehead before he goes off on a run and literally jumps out his window.

He loves when you kiss the palms of his hands, just adoring the scars on them.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Please don’t let him around kids, he doesn’t know what to do. The way his dad treated him is his ONLY reference- he will hand them Stygious and try to teach them how to use it if he’s unsupervised.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are spent in bed- he will not get up. Good luck leaving his bed if you’re there, he’s holding you hostage until his dad comes in there and shouts at him to get up because he’s late for his duties.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are spent cuddled up against each other, him somewhat flopped on you as he reads the Iliad (one of his favorite stories as it’s about Achilles) to you until you both fall asleep and the book falls to the ground.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Zagreus won’t be super quick to reveal things about himself, but every time he talks he mentions some little thing about himself. He honestly focused more on trying to understand you, rather than trying to vent about himself and all of his trauma.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Zagreus has decent patience, but if you do something royally idiotic you’re getting an annoyed interrogation from Zagreus. I think the only way to truly piss him off would be to hurt someone dear to him or break something important.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers random details about you, whatever his brain considers interesting. He remembers your important details along with when you first became friends, to the last time he saw you interacting with a random shade. But he won’t remember your birthday- for some strange reason.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment is when he first gave you ambrosia, how you put your hands over your mouth and stared in shock at the bottle he was handing you. You were so, so flattered and shocked that Zagreus cared enough to give it to you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Zagreus is extremely protective of his friends, and he’d absolutely protect you against everything he could. He’d do the same with all of his friends- and he’d honestly laugh if you tried protecting him back. He understands that you care about him, but believe me, he’s far stronger than you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As much effort as he can possibly use, he’s going to Elysium, beating Theseus’ ass into the ground, and bringing you back some fine ambrosia for you to drink in celebration- and if you like fish then he’s beating the shit out of his dad and bringing back a fish from Greece.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a bad habit of just yoinking some of your gold. He’s gotten so used to sparring with Charon after stealing from him, that hes started unconsciously pick pocketing stray coins whenever he sees them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not at all concerned- he’s already the underworlds biggest nuisance and the biggest pain in his dad’s ass. Any worries about his appearance is long gone.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I think Zagreus would definitely feel lonely without you, I mean he knows plenty of shades, but each of them takes up space in his heart. He’d definitely feel a part of him missing, and would undoubtably search for you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Zagreus has a diary with little notes on everyone he’s met, usually it has things that they like and little interesting facts about them written down so he knows what to get them.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like someone who lies for no reason- it just tells him you can’t be trusted with anything. He can tell a lie immediately, and will probably tell you not to lie to him because he likes to trust his friends, but if you keep doing it he will cut you off completely.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Insomniac king- he almost never sleeps, but when he does it’s the heaviest sleep ever and he will sleep for a day and a half if he’s not woken up. You’ll find him curled up in his blankets, face down in his pillows and chances are he still has his clothes on.

NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Zagreus is so sweet after sex, giving you sips of nectar as he bathes you, gently massaging your sore muscles. He’s a gentleman, albeit a somewhat clueless one. He takes care of you and even tucks you snuggle into his bed before he dares to care for himself.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Zagreus’ favorite part of himself is his hands- they’re strong and durable, after all. He uses them to hold you close as he fucks you, or even to gently tug your hair. He will absolutely melt if you kiss along his callouses and compliment the scars on his palms.

His favorite part of you? That has to be your lips, he loves how they trail along his scars, or leave gentle marks along his immortal skin. He also loves feeling your soft lips against his own, it’s almost enough to make him moan.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Zagreus’ loves cumming down your throat, feeling your throat constricting around his cock and milking all of the cum out of it. Breathless praises would leave his mouth as he loosely holds you there.

His second favorite place to cum is between your thighs, not necessarily in your pussy (if you’re female) or in your ass (if you’re either gender), but he likes seeing the white liquid staining them and slowly dripping down onto the bed/couch.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I can’t really see Zagreys having a dirty secret, if I’m being honest :P

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Zagreus is not the most experienced man in the world, considering how I think he’s only ever been with Meg, but that taught him a lot. He… well he somewhat knows what he’s doing, but he’s a quick learner and can improvise on the spot.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His favorite position is the lotus position, with him slightly reclining back in a chair in his room , arms around your waist, your legs and arms wrapped around him as he gently fucks into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Zagreus is not the most serious person in the world- I mean he won’t just be a complete dumbass during sex, but he is absolutely not stoic and serious during sex. He’s definitely the kind of guy to lightly joke around during sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Zagreus is not well groomed, at least not until after you get together. He has some thick hair down there, but he’s drummed it down quite a bit. The hair along his crotch is dark, like his hair, and slightly curly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Zagreus is so sweet, generally he has one hand cupping your jaw, making your eyes stay on his own as he praises you and asks if you’re alright. He is the definition of attentive, even the slightest show of discomfort and he will stop to check on you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Zagreus doesn’t really give himself the time to jack off, but if he’s been on a particularly long run, once he’s cleared a room he’ll start jacking himself off to hold himself over until you can be in his arms again.

All in all, Zagreus doesn’t masturbate often, but if he gets impatient for you he will.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Zagreus has a mirror kink, he loves holding you close while he glances into a mirror across from him, watching himself fuck you, watching your face if you’re turned away from him, or just eyeing all the marks his nails have left across your back and sides.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Zagreus will only do it in his room- he loves you, he really does- but he’s not going to fuck you anywhere but his room. It’s completely out of his comfort zone to have sex outside of his room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He gets turned on by the simplest things, you could be brushing his hair and say some simple compliment and he’d have a hard on, if anything the sweeter the compliment or comment is, the more horny he gets.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not share, he will not hurt you and he absolutely won’t do it anywhere but his room. Zagreus has boundaries and if you push them, or try to push them, he’d be turned off pretty quickly.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Zagreus loves receiving Oral, he will do almost anything for a quick blowjob from you, but if you want oral you’ll have to guide him through it. He’s a quick learner, and honestly adores the taste of you- and might (will) become addicted.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Zagreus lets you control the pace most days, if you want it fast and rough he’s holding you close and fucking you until your throats gone raw from moaning.

If you want it slow and sensual, he’s going to murmur how much he loves you into your ear and slowly roll his hips against your own.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The quickie king, always willing to give you a quick fuck before going on another run, always making sure to at least clean you up before leaving.

Quickies happen at least four times a week, if not more.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Zagreus needs quite a bit of convincing to take risks during sex, as he’s very content to just coddle your smaller frame as he fucks you. Needles to say if you do risk something and he doesn’t like it, risks are off the table for a while.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Zagreus is a god, he could last for days if he tried hard enough, he can last for a decent amount of time each round. On average he’ll go for two or three rounds, just so you stay conscious and thinking while he fucks you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Zagreus owns a few dildos and plugs, all gifts from his uncles (he will never use them, he does not trust them), but they’re locked away in a safe and you will have to let him watch you boil them for literal days before he willingly uses them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Zagreus will be in a teasing mood about half the time, playfully slowing down whenever you’re on the brink- or just stopping and going on a run to make sure you’re ready for him later.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Zagreus is not exactly loud, but he’s very vocal. Hes grunting in your ear, gasping whenever he’s about to cum and if you’re lucky, he might start whimpering in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Zagreus is honestly embarrassed about any mention of you being his mate, or any conversation about sex. He does not want to talk to his dad or uncles about his sex life and he would love if they stopped asking about it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Zagreus is almost seven inches long, and slightly tapered towards his tip. His cock is almost a pale orangish red at the tip, giving off a little heat. Hes about two inches wide.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a very high sex drive, willing to go whenever you are. He always craves your body against your own, wanting nothing more than to have you in his arms and your body pressed against his own.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He takes at least two hours to fall asleep, just because he wants to take care of you and make sure you’re perfectly taken care of before he even thinks about cleaning himself up to go to bed.

Im gonna be honest i got really tired like halfway through the NSFW half, but i really enjoyed making this :)

Hades is up next

#hades supergiant #supergiant games #supergiant hades #hades game #zagreus x reader

30 notes · View notes

physalian · 3 hours ago

Text

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff 8 | "to-be" and auxiliary verbs

Part 7

Part 6

Part 1

As I go through editing my latest manuscript, I'm faced with the dilemma of when to drop a to-be verb, but also when to keep it and how the differences between the two in any given situation can make just a little... a little *garnish* of a difference.

To-be verbs:

Am, is, are, was, were; a subset of auxiliary verbs

Auxiliary verbs:

To do, to be, to have (simplified)

Auxiliary verbs tend to indicate tense, but we use them more often as crutch verbs, filler verbs, because you can just conjugate the verb itself to the proper tense without the need of the auxiliary verb.

The advice generally goes to remove these, as they count as filler words when followed up by a second verb. Versus the TBV or AXV and an adjective.

He does look / He looks She is cooking / She cooks They were standing / They stood I am fishing / I fish She does cry / She cries We have slept / We slept

He is afraid / He fears She was sorry / She regrets They were happy / They cheered I was confused / I hesitated

The verb+adjective combo can't so easily drop the verb without changing either the tone, the flow, or the actions of the characters, because one is an act of doing, and one is a state of being (for the most part, 'fear' is one of those exceptions in English).

You would have to rearrange the sentence, e.g. "I was confused by this" to "This confused me," to elimiate the TBV. Which, most of the time, does help the narrator feel less passive in the story, but, again, we're here for flavor text, not an MLA formatting guide.

So, sometimes the inclusion of the TBV or AXV adds subtext to the action itself.

"He does look" has slightly more urgency and weight than simply "he looks" because the AXV emphasizes that this is an action the actor might not have taken otherwise, for better or for worse.

In the silence, she stands there huffing, voice wrecked from crying as he heads for the open door. “Don’t you walk away from me.” He turns, face impassive. “There’s nothing left to be said.” vs He does turn, face impassive. “There’s nothing left to be said.”

The latter indicates that this might be hesitation or regret on his part, as opposed to a decisive, quick action, or that this is an action that she, the narrator, didn't expect him to take.

It also helps convey the tone of voice (or at least the general direction of the level of emotion in a voice). This absolutely varies on a case-by-case basis and the context of the action and should not be abused.

One of the juicier verbs for subtext here is "try"

He tries to coach her through how to do it properly. vs He does try to coach her through how to do it properly.

The former is direct and simple. He is attempting (he attempts) to help but through the act of "trying" and not "doing" there's an indication that she isn't getting it.

The latter is a little more hopeless, where he and she both know that whatever she's attempting to learn, she won't succeed, but he's doing it anyway. Maybe because he cares or he feels bad, or, that he wasn't going to help her, but something changed his mind.

Deciding when to use these helps convey the inner thoughts of non-narrating characters without head-hopping, and also shows the biases of the narrator.

Hope this helps!

#writing #writeblr #writing a book #writing advice #writing resources #writing tools #writing tips #writing style #syntax #verbs #narrative structure

22 notes · View notes

hikarielizabethbloom · 1 day ago

Note

This is what J.D. Payne said about Sauron in the first season:

"There’s something in him that is sort of vaguely reminiscent of Gollum, when you watch it again, where you see these two forces driving within him. In some ways, Gollum is to Sauron as Sauron is to Morgoth, a little bit. The One Ring is operative on his consciousness at all times. And even maybe if he tried to turn away from it and be Mairon, the Maia, who, in the beginning, was good, there's this shadow that has operated upon his soul that he is enslaved to, that you always see, every decision he makes, takes him, in one way, towards the good, but it also takes him towards power. And power is his addiction. Watching back, with that in mind, it's fun to pick apart everything he says, or if he does retreat from the decision he makes."

It's possible Sauron thought to do "good" for a time, but power is his addiction, his way to further corruption. I don't care about Charlotte Brandström's words about his 'love' for Galadriel because the way it was framed on screen? Was not 'love', especially not romantic love. It will always end up looking twisted and extremely dark, and I'm not sure we should casually call this 'love'. I agree with Charlie Vickers when he insists on not using that word, because he doesn't wish to 'romanticize' the merciless, obsessive, abusive and cruel feelings that Sauron, a fallen angel with a god complex, can have for someone.

I don't mind that people find haladriel interesting, but after season 2? I cannot see Galadriel willingly go to him, not even for the affection she had for Halbrand. Sauron may want to possess her, but she will not yield to him, she will not be a willing participant in this.

This is interesting.

In real life I wouldn't call this love. Absolutely.

In fiction I do because it make things more interesting. It raises the stakes. If you take away Sauron's capacity for love then somehow he is less accountable for his actions. Because if he can't love then he does not really understand the damage he is inflicting upon others.

But I NEED HIM TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR HIS ACTIONS.

If he does love and still acts the way he did/does, then it is worse. Because he knows what it means to love, to care, and he doesn't care at all. Hell, he punishes the people he loves and loves/ed him in return. He did to with Adar, Celebrimbor and Galadriel. He will do it to Numenor. He destroys the things he loves because his love his selfish. He takes something pure and twists it untill it's not even love anymore. It's obsession. It's revenge. But once upon a time the love was there.

But no, I don't see Galadriel as in love with what Sauron is now. Same goes for Sauron. He loves Galadriel's light as long as he can use it for his bidding. They're both hunted by ghost of the other but they will never yield.

I don't see their relationship as a 'love conquers all' type, more like a 'love was not enough' one.

I don't know if I'm can explain myself clearly when it comes to them. Because it's complicated. Because I want it to be complicated. Because I love their twisted love story but, in canon, I want Galadriel as far from him as she can get.

In fanfiction, that is a different story...

Edit: I want to add that by acknowledging his ability to love I want in no way excuse Sauron's actions. Quite the opposite. Because he cares, he understands the difference between good and evil and he still chooses evil. That is canon.

He's not doing bad things for good reasons. The 'I want to heal ME' is just the company tagline. He is doing horrible things for horrible reasons.

22 notes · View notes

tropes-and-tales · 1 day ago

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

(Richard Muñoz x F!Reader)

CW: Light angst (talk of anxiety disorders, therapy, and medication); bad first dates; two shy dummies who are destined for each other. Fluffy goodness, as one would expect with Richard.

Word Count: 3951

AN: This was requested a long time ago by @frasmotic - sorry it took a lifetime to write this!

AN2: Usual caveat - not edited in any way whatsoever.

Richard only agrees to the blind date because he’s had absolutely no luck in finding dates on his own. When he sits and tries to calculate the last time he went out with a woman, his mind boggles at the years—not months—that have passed since then.

When he tries to calculate the last time he had a bona fide girlfriend, he despairs and gives up before he comes up with the exact amount of time that has passed.

Anyway, he doesn’t require precise numbers. He knows how he feels: lonely. He has his dog but no one else. He lives alone, spends his evenings and weekends alone. Spends his holidays alone. His sole interaction with humans is from his coworkers and whatever paltry connections he can build with customer service employees.

It’s a fellow guard, Mike, at the prison who sets up the blind date. Mike’s sister-in-law is similarly shy, the same sort of introvert as Richard.

“A real nice gal, Rich,” Mike explains over lunch. “Smart, has a good job. Owns her own house. She just has trouble meeting a nice guy. Everyone on the apps are either creeps or assholes who ghost her.”

Richard would never agree to it, but then Mike slides his phone across the table to him. He’s pulled up your profile on social media, and Richard studies your picture.

“She’s pretty,” Richard admits. He feels a fluttery swooping in his gut at the thought of taking you out, but Mike is something of a bull in a china shop, and before Richard can even stop it, his fellow guard is setting up a double date for him and his wife, and you and Richard.

“Safety in numbers,” Mike says, and it seems that Richard has little to do other than show up and be himself. As if it’s that easy.

“Dios,” he mutters after his lunch break ends. Already he’s flushing at the thought, his palms slick with sweat.

-----

The date is supposed to be low stakes: dinner at Mike’s house. There are no public spaces to navigate, no random people to throw Richard off what little game he has. He turns up at Mike’s house ten minutes early with a bottle of wine that he spent far too much time agonizing over at the store. In his other hand he clutches a mixed bouquet, and that took too much time to choose too.

The zenith of the date is here, on Mike’s front porch, the few moments before he knocks.

It goes downhill from there.

*****

Your sister married an idiot, but Mike has his sweet moments. For example, this date he set up. To hear your sister tell it, it was mostly Mike’s idea.

“He worries about you,” she told you weeks ago.

You snort and shake your head, secretly pleased that your brother-in-law is so, well, brotherly to you.

“He’s only worried you’ll get stuck with me when I’m old and infirm,” you replied.

“Not true. Besides, he said this guy, Richard? Said he’s nice. Shy, like you. He thinks you’ll hit it off.”

You can’t quite buy into Mike’s optimism. Because the guy, this Richard, barely looks at you, and he says even less.

Mike introduces you with an expectant smile. Richard is cute, you decide, edging against handsome. You offer him a smile, tell him you’re happy to meet him. In reply, you get the limpest handshake in the history of mankind, and then Richard winces, swipes his hand against his pants.

Mike frowns slightly but rebounds. He claps Richard on his back and tells you about how your date works in the letter room of the prison.

“Tell her about it,” Mike prods gently.

“It’s not that interesting,” Richard mumbles.

Which is about all he says to you all evening.

Bless your sister and brother-in-law, though. They try to help Richard along. They do all they can to open up lines of conversation, to sing your praises to him, to sing his praises to you. They uncork a second bottle of wine. They put on some low music to fill in the awkward gaps of silence.

During the start of dinner, you are merely perplexed. Are you hideous to him? Do you smell abhorrent? He’s not even being polite, and as the evening drags on, your confusion cedes to a low-simmering anger—which makes your own shyness fade.

“More broccoli?” you ask him, and you move to hand him the dish. The motion makes Richard flinch way too hard, and his hand catches the edge of his wine glass. The deep red merlot splashes on your dress, and you slide back from the table, then stand. Richard doesn’t turn to look at you; he only stares at the widening stain on the tablecloth, and he hisses out a low, tortured fuck.

Your sister stands too, and she gives a polite ‘excuse us, gentlemen,’ then ushers you to the powder room where the two of you daub at the splash of wine.

“This is not going well,” she finally murmurs to you.

“You think?” It comes out sarcastic, and you wince when you catch her reflection in the mirror. She looks apologetic.

“Mike said he was awkward…” She tries to explain the rude behavior away but then trails off, goes silent.

You sigh. You tilt your head towards the ceiling and shut your eyes for a beat. Another awful date, and this one had been served to you on a silver platter.

“It’s not Mike’s fault,” you finally concede. “And anyway, it’s almost over.”

-----

When the two of you return to the dining room, it turns out the date is already over. Mike sits alone, picks at the food on his plate, and he looks at you gloomily as he announces that Richard left.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I have no idea what his fucking problem was.”

You return to your seat and try to school the tears that prickle behind your eyelids. Are you that terrible a prospect? You know you aren’t some great beauty, but you have a lot going for you—

“I’m sorry,” Mike repeats, quieter, and you glance over to see him shaking his head.

“It’s okay,” you reply, even though it isn’t. This hurts, and it draws cracks in your foundation. You know there will be fallout to your confidence in the days and weeks that follow.

You don’t have the heart to stay much longer, and your sister walks out with you as you climb into your car. You wave at her and drive off, and you are a block away when your sister turns to go back into the house. Something bright catches the corner of her eye, and she looks down at the ornamental shrubs that stand beside the porch. Tangled in the low branches is a bouquet of flowers, tossed aside. She bends down and scoops them up, notices that they look pretty fresh. She takes them inside.

“What you got there?” Mike asks when she joins him in the kitchen. He’s scraping off plates and loading the dishwasher, and he watches as she snags a vase from the cabinet under the sink.

“Flowers. They were thrown in the shrubs by the porch.”

“Huh.” Mike looks at them, then pulls together a theory. “You think Richard brought them?”

“And threw them away before he even came in?” She shakes her head. “Why?”

*****

If Richard had enough money, he’d quit his job and move to the other side of the country. Hell, he’d move to the other side of the globe if he could pull it off.

He’s never been so ashamed. So embarrassed. Mortified. There’s no adjective that can capture the depth of shame he feels at how he acted on his date.

He can’t even really explain it—though he tries, of course, when Mike angrily corners him in the breakroom the following Monday. Richard tries to explain how out-of-body he felt, how the moment he knocked on Mike’s door and heard footfalls making their way to let him in, he panicked. He tossed the flowers away, suddenly terrified that the cheerful blooms looked cheap in their cellophane wrapping.

And it only got worse from there.

He broke out in a sweat immediately. He felt it trickling down his temples, had to daub it away with his shirt sleeve on the sly. He felt his armpits growing damp, felt flushed and sickly, feverish. The air in the room was too warm and too heavy, like breathing through soup, and the shallow breaths he took only made the panic grow.

Then you entered the room and for heaven’s sake: you were pretty in the pictures Mike showed him, but you looked downright angelic in person. Dress lightly skimming your curves, gentle smile on your face as you looked at him expectantly. When you stepped closer to introduce yourself, Richard caught the scent of you—faintly sweet, a warm smell.

How could he feel anything but shame to shake your hand with his own sweaty palm? You were perfect, and he felt unwieldy, monstrous beside you.

And you had tried to be kind anyway. Tried to converse with him, asked him questions about his life that he only grunted at. He asked you no questions in return, and when you tried to pass him some food, he ended up staining your beautiful dress with the wine he brought.

Of course he fled. Of course he spent the drive home cursing himself, cursing his stupid brain that was always so eager to flood itself with stress hormones the minute a situation got uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells Mike in the breakroom of the prison. He tries to explain it, assumes he fails like he does everything else. “Please…tell her it wasn’t her fault at all.”

“Of course it wasn’t her fault!”

Richard flinches at the anger in Mike’s voice, but then he hangs his head. He lets the fresh wave of misery course through him. “She was too good for me anyway.” It comes out a low mumble, but Mike must catch it anyway. The other man sighs after a long beat, then lays a heavy hand on Richard’s shoulder.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown you into the lion’s den like that,” he concedes. “But for fuck’s sake, man. You made her feel terrible.”

“I know. I mean, I guessed as much.”

“So it wasn’t a love match.” Mike drops his hand and sighs again. “But it would help a lot to apologize to her. She’s beating herself up pretty bad.”

Richard looks up, surprised. “She’d be willing to see me again?”

“Doubtful,” Mike replies with a shake of his head.

“Then how—”

“Fuck, man. You work in the fucking letter room, right? So write her a letter. I’ll get it to her.”

*****

You’re not overtly depressed over it.

You’re also not okay about it.

It doesn’t help that the days are getting shorter. It gets dark early, so it’s easy to justify the hermit-nature you’re embracing. You come home from work, you walk your dog, and then you spend long hours in your pajamas watching trashy reality TV shows before you go to bed.

You sleep a lot. It helps with the little pit of despair your failed blind date opened up in you. It shook your confidence harder than you would have thought. You’re generally pretty sturdy in your sense of self, but each year that passes without any success with the men erodes it more than you care to admit.

You spend the week after the failed date wallowing. No sense in white-knuckling through it. You feel bad for yourself, you go a bit maudlin, and you start to climb your way out…

Then your sister stops by for a visit, and when she goes to leave, she hesitates, then reaches into her purse.

“This is for you,” she says, but she holds it for a long moment before she hands it to you. It’s a white envelope, and it bears your name across the face in unfamiliar handwriting.

She takes in your puzzled expression and clarifies. “It’s from Richard.”

“Ah.”

“He felt terrible, sweetie.”

“That makes two of us, then.”

She studies you for a beat. “You know, he brought you flowers, but something made him panic, I think. I found them tossed behind a shrub after you left.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Kinda weird.”

“Kinda. But not serial killer weird, at least.”

You smile. “True enough.” You hold up the envelope. “At least he didn’t ghost me.”

-----

You’d like to say that you have a certain measure of patience, but the moment your front door clicks behind your sister, you tear that envelope open like a wild animal. Your curiosity allows nothing else.

It’s a single page, but Richard’s printing is small and tight. You have to hold the paper closer to the light to read it.

It’s an apology, of course. A genuine one that goes a long way at softening your heart to the man who had been so impolite at your date. Because he tries to offer an explanation too—the utter panic he felt, the crippling anxiety—and that softens you too.

You know about that sort of panic, that sort of anxiety. It used to cripple you too until intense therapy and the right combination of meds helped you tame it. Still, you can feel it claw at your chest sometimes, so your anger at Richard is replaced by understanding.

Also, he drops this line in the middle of his letter, and when has a man ever said (or written) something so guilelessly sweet?

I think you might not realize how beautiful you are, Richard wrote in his cramped, neat printing. I was already struggling to breathe from the panic, but the moment I saw you, I couldn’t breathe at all.

“Richard, you surprising son of a bitch,” you whisper aloud in your kitchen, and you reach for your phone to text your sister.

*****

It’s grace that Richard doesn’t feel he deserves, yet Mike offers it: a second chance.

“It’s a big holiday party,” Mike explains when he hands Richard the invitation. “My wife fucking loves all that Martha Stewart, Bing Crosby, chestnuts on an open fire bullshit. There will be a lot of people there, so...”

He trails off, but Richard catches his meaning. A lot of people will serve as cover for Richard. He’ll be able to melt into the crowd, peel off into another room if his anxiety threatens to choke him.

He’s not so sure it will, though. In the month and a half since that terrible first impression, and since he found out his apology letter was well-received, Richard has taken control of it. For the first time in his life, he got angry—angry enough to make an appointment to see his doctor. Angry enough for a referral for a therapist. Angry enough to try out a low dose of anti-anxiety medication.

There was no shame in it, he had decided. If a person had high blood pressure, didn’t they get medicine for it? Richard had grown up in a home that stigmatized feelings in general, and he had always taken the ‘ignore-it-and-it’ll-go-away’ approach to his own mental health.

But when Mike had told him—secondhand, through his wife—how well you had responded to Richard’s letter, he felt that flush of anger. At himself, partially, but also at the family legacy of suffering in silence. Why had he suffered so long with no relief? Why did you offer him more kindness than he had ever offered himself?

Hence the meds. Hence the forty-five minutes every week where he awkwardly stammered through his overanxious thoughts, his family history, his own history.

And it seems to be working. The medication seems to drop a thin veil between him and his own head. It gives him the barest bit of a barrier, just enough protection from himself. The therapy gives him the tools to understand why he reacts the way he does. Richard comes to understand that it’s his low self-esteem that drives much of his social panic, and his therapist prescribes him a list of mantras he is to repeat to himself in the mirror each morning and night.

It embarrasses him at first. His reflection flushes in the mirror as he says nice things to himself…but damned if it doesn’t seem to work.

-----

Who can say why it goes better the second time around? Maybe it’s the meds or the therapy, or maybe it’s the barest bit of understand Richard has achieved through his letter to you. Maybe it a combination of all three things. Richard doesn’t linger over the why because the what is so much more gratifying.

What is it? It’s…so much better. Richard arrives at the perfect time—not too early, not too late. He walks through the front door, and he doesn’t toss aside the bouquet of flowers this time. His heart hammers in his chest, but he remembers to breathe, remembers to smile. He repeats his mantras in his head as he makes his way through the growing throng to find you.

I am worthy of happiness. I am worthy of love. I am open to new possibilities.

He finds you alone in the kitchen, half-bent in front of the oven and peering at whatever cooks inside it. You’re just as beautiful as he remembered. His pulse picks up, rapid, but he swallows. Takes a breath.

I am worthy of happiness. I am worthy of love.

“Hello,” he says.

You stand up and turn; at the sight of him, you smile. At the sight of the flowers in his hand—a wintry mix of white roses and sprigs of cut pine—your smile grows wider.

“Those would look better in a vase than tossed in the azalea out front,” you tease, but you say it gently with that smile on your face, and Richard shakes his head ruefully.

“I thought I might wait at least a few hours before I throw wine on you, too,” he jokes back. The joke lands because you laugh—a merry sound that makes him chuckle.

You reply that you specifically wore black in case he turned up, and he chuckles at that too, but then he turns serious. He apologized by letter, but he knows he has to say it to your face as well.

“I am sorry about that evening,” he says now. “I’m m-mortified…” He trails off when he stammers, and he feels his face flush hotly. Dammit, he thinks, but then he realizes what he’s doing—he’s falling back into the deep rut of old behavior, so he thinks an abbreviated mantra over and over to steer himself away from the cliff’s edge where he stands. I’m worthy, I’m worthy, I’m worthy—

His thoughts are interrupted by your soft hand, tentative, on his arm. Just for a second you touch him. Just enough to reassure him, because he looks into your eyes and sees only understanding.

“You don’t have to apologize again. It’s in the past.”

“I just—”

You shake your head, cut him off with a smile. “I have an entire lifetime of awkward social moments. I get it. Really.”

What else can he do but gaze back at you, to return your smile with his own? To finally nod his head, to consider himself forgiven?

“Good!” You break away with a little clap of your hands. “Now let’s get a vase for those flowers, and then you can help me with the mini quiches my sister has baking. I forgive you, but your penance is being a fellow cater-waiter for the evening, okay?”

What else can he do but laugh at that, then give you a little salute? How can he resist your charm as the two of you take orders from your sister, the hostess? The two of you spend most of the party in the kitchen together, running the dishwasher, drying glasses, uncorking bottles of wine, refilling trays of food. You take turns rejoining the party proper, but when you regroup in the kitchen after each excursion, you share little jokes about the other guests, observations and gentle teasing, and Richard realizes late that the entire evening passes and he hasn’t broken out in a cold sweat once.

He realizes that he hasn’t overthought anything either. Hasn’t ruminated over his words. He’s at ease, and he’s enjoying himself.

-----

Which means that the night ends far too early.

His role in the kitchen gives him a bit of a reprieve: when the other guests leave, Richard stays behind and helps clean up. Not that you or your sister asked—he volunteers to stay, and he misses the bemused look that passes from your sister to Mike. You miss the look too.

You and Richard tidy up as best you can. The bulk of the cleanup will be in the morning, but you put away the leftovers, you set the dishwasher for one last load, and you sweep away the crumbs.

The cleanup ends far too early too.

You get his coat for him from the guest bedroom, and then you walk him to the door. Mike had said you were shy too, but Richard has never seen it—until now. At parting, you turn shy. You don’t quite meet his eye, and you stammer out how you had fun, as you thank him for his help.

It’s funny how much your sudden shyness endears you more to Richard. He recognizes the emotion in you, and it makes the kinship between you feel stronger. You understand him and he understands you, and when was the last time he felt that sort of connection?

That must be what gives him the mad bit of courage as he stands at the threshold. You remain indoors, he stands just on the other side of the doorway, and he feels a surge of bravery that makes him lean forward, quick, and brush the gentlest of kisses across your warm cheek.

“Oh!” you say, startled, and Richard suddenly thinks he’s overplayed his hand. He feels his own flush creep up from the collar of his coat.

“Sorry, I—” He starts to say.

“No. No! You’re fine! You’re—”

“I didn’t mean—”

“You just surprised me.”

“Oh.”

You smile, your eyes finding his. “A nice surprise.”

-----

The entire drive home, Richard can’t stop grinning. He smiles so much—and has smiled so much throughout the evening—that his cheeks hurt, the muscles so unused to so much effort. It’s only once he’s inside his own home that he kicks himself; he didn’t get your number or give you his, so there’s no way—

“Just ask Mike for it, dummy,” he mutters to himself, but then he recognizes the negative talk, so he amends it. “I can just ask Mike for it. No worries. Of course I didn’t think of it in the moment. I was enjoying myself so much.”

But maybe he wasn’t the only one with the mad bit of courage in the end. When he goes to shed his coat and hang it up in the hallway closet, he checks his pockets for his wallet…and finds a small scrap of paper, folded into fourths. It’s like a passed-note in school, though no one ever passed him a note during his school years.

It’s from you, of course. Your elegant cursive with your name and your number, and below that, an invitation to call you sometime so the two of you can get to know each other better.

#tropes and tales #clear the inbox 2024 #kinktober2024 #richard muñoz #richard munoz #richard alonso munoz x reader #richard alonso muñoz x reader #richard alonso munoz #richard munoz imagine #richard munoz x reader #the letter room

21 notes · View notes

jasperandhenryslovechild · 3 days ago

Text

now that the shock of watching this trailer over and over and over again has worn down a tiny bit i need to ask, what the fuck is that hero costume and what does this mean for the preexisting canon dangerverse timeline

it is evident that these three costumes are NOT the same thing and it doesn't make me happy at ALL.

INDIVIDUAL BREAKDOWN/ELABORATION RAMBLE UNDER THE CUT

this one

is henry danger canon, like in the very last episode.

a muted version of the danger force canon one, with a fugly mustard hoodie with the strings tied so tight that it makes me question his breathing abilities and middle-schooler-who-just-discovered-what-mouse-is hair/j. he looks like he had to pull something together last minute unlike charlotte (curse me for cropping her out) who is literally THE COOLEST ONE HERE why is she not in the movie???? she is literally a fucking cyborg with purple hair someone explain this shit to me??? it's her superiority that allowed her to absolutely EAT THIS UP while henry looks like he just went dumpster diving

it's a vibe but it's also giving ramen noodles so im giving it a low 5/10 out of pity

danger force switches it up on us with this version

henry "we don't wear masks in dystopia, we're kinda above that" hart

this one is my favorite, it's cohesive and it goes together well. it's got the more grown hero vibe that ive always wanted to see in henry ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF HIS GROWTH AS A CHARACTER!! THE RETURN OF THE KID EPISODE IS LITERALLY ALL ABOUT HOW FUCKING DIFFERENT HE IS AND IM HERE FOR IT SO HARD!!! i will absolutely drop a df henry hyper analysis some day but for now this is what we've got

the shades of burgundy and washed out red throw it together well and i can totally see an explanation behind this costume vs the old one being a simple upscale/revamp. that jacket has pockets to hide weaponry, leather would probably be a lot easier to take a tumble in (+ the knee guards not shown in this picture and like the plastic covers on the sides of his legs that i don't know the name of, implies that he takes enough hard falls to need protection in these areas!), it helps camouflage well in dystopia because the 2 seconds of clips we've seen of that place show that it's pretty dark despite its bright neon flashing lights that give it an evil sanfransokyo at night sort of vibe. it's superhero-y, but it also doesn't have all those staple childhood iconic hero things either— if anything he looks kinda ashamed to be in a superhero show and that's okay/j

overall, 10/10 because it has nothing to do with the capitan man/kid danger brand, it shows henry evolving beyond that point in his life into his own entity after being so soley dependent on ray for his entire previous career in superhero-ing

now to address this fucking monstrosity we were given just a few hours ago

i want to preface this by saying i am not ungrateful. the things i am about to say come from a place of pure dissatisfaction yet constructive criticism. ive been waiting years and years for this movie and i will literally take an hour and thirty minutes of jasper and henry twirling in a circle and make 183829992 edits of it i don't care, i love henry danger sm and the movie looks pretty cool

this being said

dear costume team of henry danger the movie,

have you ever watched henry danger and or danger force? do you even know what you're designing for? be honest, did the producers hand you this stock image

and tell you to make it mean? because every time i look at this costume there is something else wrong with it and it PAINS MY EYES. it makes him look like a cartoony ass space crusader instead of a hero fighting crime one of the most dangerous if not THE MOST DANGEROUS city in the world.

let's break this down, shall we? head to toe motherfuckers.

only not complaining about the hair and it being slicked in the same direction it used to be because it's consistent throughout the entire trailer (unlike SOME danger force episodes... cough cough return of the kid....cough cough.......)

that mask. firstly, i have issues with there being a mask at all, because danger force establishes that there are no masks in dystopia. nobody moves a finger to try and put on a mask, henry even fights SUNGLASSES. those sunglasses ray forces on him to hide his identity are brawled against, he's clearly grown out of masks. putting him back in one puts him back in that kid danger box he's been working hard to build up and out of, a concept established throughout the entire finale of henry danger and further reassured in danger force.

and if you were gonna inarguably give him a mask for simple minded audience recognition, nickelodeon, the least you could do was make it a PRETTY MASK. red was an.. okay choice for the base, but making the silver SURROUND IT? BLACK OUTLINE???? you're trying so hard to be new and cool and it is just painful on the eyes instead. the black eyeshadow under it makes him look like one of those 2020 emo dsmp cc edits and it's just like a throwback to an era nobody wants to go back to. that face card makes him looks like he listens to believer by imagine dragons while chewing that magic bubblegum. his lips are PALE, SOMEBODY GET THIS MAN SOME IRON— OH WAIT, THEY WASTED THEIR SUPPLY ON THIS NIGHT REFLECTIVE SILVER MAKEUP THAT MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE A STOP SIGN WITH A FLASHLIGHT UP IT'S ASSHOLE

then we move onto the base of the costume itself. firstly, the navy blue undershirt cut out to expose his neck says nothing to me. it does not make the statement you guys thought it would— in fact, it makes the whole thing look a pit incomplete? unkempt? it looks like theres something missing and with that black eyeshadow i think it's a thick silver chain SORRY IM DONE I'M OVER THE MASK

the vest over it gives me even more issues. you can't pull up with an audio of ray manchester going "you're not a sidekick anymore, you're a hero!!" and have THEIR FUCKING LOGO ON HIS CHEST. IT'S NOT RIGHT. ON TOP OF THE FACT THAT THE ENTIRE VEST IN AND OF ITSELF LOOKS LIKE IT WAS ROLLED IN DIRT AND HAS THE COLORATION PROPERTIES OF A DYING SEAL, THE LOGO BEING THERE AT ALL IS A MASSIVE ISSUE.

the entire POINT OF THE FINALE was that henry wanted to move on from his life as kid danger. he sacrificed himself and faked his entire death to thousands of people in order to become his own person. he had no life outside of crime fighting because he has no skills or traits outside of crime fighting— he gave up his entire childhood for it so naturally it's all he can gravitate to as he moves forward in dystopia. being a crime fighter once more is a punch in the face enough that he will never really escape who he once was despite the fact that HE GOT AWAY.

HE GOT AWAY.

in NO WORLD WOULD THE HENRY HART I KNOW AND LOVE PROUDLY WEAR THE SYMBOL OF THE VERY MAN THAT FAILED HIM. ray manchester failed him throughout his entire childhood— failed at giving him a normal kid life, failed at providing context and details before or even during the time he accepted the job— and yet here the movie is. he is wearing a rip off of his old costume in an attempt to leave behind who he was. that is ironic, that is HORRIBLE. because by putting him in this FUGLY ASS DOLLAR STORE COSTUME, not only are you retconning the evolution he's been working towards, you are denying him the right to become something greater than just kid danger

in the old costumes, the designs were different because he as a person was different. his entire character arc throughout the hd finale to now was just that, becoming different.

this is not different— this is just an older version of the ghost he's been leaving behind time and time again. dragging him back to his roots. there are millions of ways to drag him back to his roots in the movie itself because those roots will never free him, that is the entire point of him post henry danger and there's so many ways to show that. but changing his costume, one of the only parts of his new hero identity that he himself gets to choose, to resemble his old costume so similarly is just blatantly saying fuck you to the current dangerverse timeline and who that has made him out to be.

my final question is, what does that mean for everything else?

cause like, if the hd/df costumes are no longer a thing in the movie, what happened to them?? why did henry choose this bullshit over the FIREEE costumes in his past?? why would he ever do that to himself bro

and also BLACKOUT?? DO WE NOT GET AN EXPLANATION ON THAT???? BECAUSE EVEN NICKELODEON THEM FUCKING SELVES MADE A THEORY VIDEO ABOUT BLACKOUT BEING JASPER AND THEN WE PULL UP WITH THIS MOTHERFUCKER

LIKE GUYS I'M NOT GETTING IT ARE WE EVER GONNA GET AN EXPLANATION ON WHO BLACKOUT IS AND WHY HE WAS CAUGHT UP WITH HENRY— ALSO JASPER'S JUST TRANSFORMING RANDOMLY IN PUBLIC??? DOES THAT NOT NUKE THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF HENRYS MASK?????

i do have very good things to say about this teaser, do not let your eyes deceive you, but i also have these complaints that i don't necessarily need answered if not I just need them to be heard

if you've made it this far thank you so much for coming to my insanely long ted talk

#henry danger #danger force #henry danger the movie #dystopia #jasper dunlop

21 notes · View notes

brummiereader · 2 days ago

Text

@mischievouslittlecreature 😬...he's not giving in easily when it comes to Lizzie, is he? At least, not yet. Urghh, I can't watch, but I wana watch 😭🙈!

With the business with Jessie and Lizzie, Lucy feels different to me. I don't know how to properly articulate it, but she just kinda seems like she's just going with the flow but deeply, deeply sad about everything. She just seems...done 😥. Tommy has all these ambitions and things going on with Lizzie, and I get the sense that Lucy has been completely worn down by it all. I appreciate how he's always checking on her wellbeing, but from the readers perspective, we're really starting to see a change in Lucy and how things she once enjoyed are starting to become a burden/anxiety inducing.

“You can’t be unmarried with an illegitimate child if you want to move into politics, Tommy.” Urghh, I know the topic of marriage has to be brought up. But you can tell from both Tommy and Lucy's remarks that neither of them want to be even thinking about the mere idea of it. He's a fucking gangster though! And illegitimate child it's hardly something people should be fussing about considering his line of work 😂. I swear, these posh/high society people have more twisted morals than anyone in Birmingham!

“You okay?” Tommy whispered to her in the dark. When she didn’t respond right away, his voice grew a little strained with worry. “Lucy?” yeh, I'm starting to think she's done with these threesomes now. It starting to look like a chore for her when she once enjoyed it. I find it interesting how she reflects on it, and if it's because of what happened to Luca or Lizzie. But I think that it properly goes further back than that. Little by little we've started to see how, even though they enjoy it, they seek each other out more during those encounters. Maybe they just want each other, but continue with them because it's a force of habit and a job that needs doing. Is Lucy waiting for Tommy to say that's enough now, do you think? Because she really doesn't seem into it.

Looking around, a beat of panic tightened in his throat at no sight of her distinctive crimson hair. His heart started to pound hard in his chest. No. No, no, no, no…he’d just left her there for a second. Ahh Tommy 😭. They way he panicked when he couldn't see her, and how he had to control himself from falling apart when she turned up😩. He's absolutely petrified of losing her again, even for the tiniest of seconds.

Another edition to their family 🥰! I love how Tommy was pouty about it first but quickly caved in when he saw how much Lucy had already fell in love with the little kitten. He's a big softie really! And that line about how he had knocked someone up, so she should be able to keep that cat, got a giggle from me 😂.

Urghhhh it hurts 😭! I know Ruby is an innocent baby in this mess, but my heart still dropped when I was reading about Lucy's struggle seeing Tommy with Lizzie and their little family she doesn't feel a part of Fuck sake Tommy, your pull out method is weak 😬! Look at the heartache you've caused 😩.

She followed Tommy and Lizzie down the stairs, lingering back to let them both go first, walking side by side with their baby while she trailed behind them; alone. Fuck sake...this chapter is really starting to stir my emotions for poor Lucy 😭. I always knew it was gonna be hard to read her seeing Tommy doting on his daughter with Lizzie by his side. I just wish there was something Tommy could do to show her that she's stil his number one girl. But I still understand how his time has now been split between Lucy and Charlie and Lizzie and Ruby. But I have hope that things will get easier for this blended family as Ruby grows up ❤️.

What a fantastic chapter to finish of this part of your story! Off to next part 😍.

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Tommy's ambitions take them to new heights, but not without consequences looming on the horizon.

Word Count: 4,005

Notes: I originally considered including some more detailed aspects--even potentially a full chapter--detailing Lizzie's pregnancy and Ruby's birth, but I have tokophobia, and just wasn't comfortable going into that much detail regarding that topic. So apologies to anyone who wanted to see more of that. And I promise that the Lizzie drama is only just beginning, and will be a big part of the next couple parts, so please consider checking those out once they're posted if you're interested in seeing a continuation of that aspect of the story.

Also, I just want to give a huge thank you to everyone who has read this story. This is to date the biggest single fic I have ever written, and the support you have given me means so much. I promise to have more featuring Tommy and Lucy out very soon!

Warnings for depictions of insecurity, sexual content, PTSD, and references to torture and pregnancy. Bit of a bittersweet ending here, so sorry about that!

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Chapter 29: Shake Hands with the Devil

Returning to work had been the right idea.

Already, Lucy was starting to feel better, work helping to drive the dark thoughts that had been plaguing her lately to the back of her mind. They were still there, but they weren’t nearly as loud as they once were.

Tommy’s new plan required a good amount of logistics and organizing, both of which she was eager to take on. And another action, one somewhat less desirable, but just as necessary.

She was surprised at just how easy it was to get Jessie to give up the name of the leader of the cell. All it took was a kiss from Tommy and a declaration that he wanted to help her cause to have information already spilling from her lips.

But then again, Tommy always seemed to have that effect on women. And Jessie, despite how she may have presented herself, was desperate for connection.

“You alright?” Tommy asked, after Jessie had left the office with the promise that they’d meet up later.

“I feel a little bad for what we’re doing to her,” Lucy sighed, leaning back into him while his hands rested on her upper arms, chin settling on the top of her head.

“If you really don’t want to go through with it, we can figure something else out–”

“No, it’s fine.” She turned around in his arms to face him, resting her head on his chest, leaning into the warmth of his body.

It was a shitty thing, what they were doing to Jessie. But fucking her was necessary to ensure her loyalty until the election was done. And to maintain the steady stream of information she could provide them about the communists–at least, that’s what Lucy was going to keep telling herself in order to be able to sleep at night.

“Just…” she worried on her bottom lip, feeling Tommy’s hand settle protectively on the back of her head. “Promise me that you won’t come in her.” She didn’t need to specify as to why, feeling him tense a little against her of the reminder of Lizzie and her approaching due date.

“I promise.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “We really should talk about what you want to do about Lizzie.”

“What do you mean?”

She hesitated, unsure as to how she could properly broach the subject to him, feeling a tear begin to cleave its way through her heart in response to what she was about to suggest. Even as she forced the words to come out.

“You should marry her.”

Tommy jerked back, staring at her with a furrowed brow, frown pulling his lips downwards. “What?”

“You can’t be unmarried with an illegitimate child if you want to move into politics, Tommy.” Knowing him, winning the position of MP was just the beginning. He had big things ahead of him. “You have to project the right kind of image. And if you want to be able to be involved in any sort of significant way with the baby…”

“But I love you,” he said softly. “If I’m going to marry anyone–”

“It needs to be the mother of your child,” Lucy finished for him stubbornly. He shot her a wounded look.

“I don’t want to marry her.”

We don’t always get what we want, she thought, but bit her tongue. If things had been different, maybe it could have been her that he would marry. But they weren’t.

“And besides, what about you?” he pressed.

“I think that I’m a small price to pay for the betterment of your child’s life and your career.”

The hurt in his eyes deepened. “Well I don’t!”

“Tommy…”

“We’re not talking about this,” his jaw twitched unhappily as he shook his head, turning towards his desk.

“Sweetheart, please…”

“I’m not giving you up.” That stubborn sharpness entered his eyes, jaw setting, and she knew that she would get nowhere with him on the subject. At least not yet. He’d have to see with his own eyes that she was right before he budged on it.

She sighed. The last thing that she wanted to do at the moment was fight with him. “Alright.”

They did not speak of the matter again. Though it lingered in the air between them like a ghost.

∗ ∗ ∗

They laid side by side in the narrow bed, Tommy in the middle with Lucy on one side of him, Jessie on the other. He was thumbing at his brow with one hand, staring up at the ceiling while Jessie slipped out from under the sheets to go get dressed. Lucy watched her lazily, shifting to tuck herself more closely into Tommy’s side. His arm dropped to wrap around her shoulders, fingers tracing over her back. She shifted nearer to him, suddenly needing the closeness.

“You okay?” Tommy whispered to her in the dark. When she didn’t respond right away, his voice grew a little strained with worry. “Lucy?”

“‘M okay,” she said, nestling her head more firmly on his chest, eyes still watching Jessie carefully. They could not talk while she was in the room with them. At least not really.

She ached pleasantly between her legs from having him buried inside her but only a few moments ago. And while the pleasure from the orgasm he’d given her was still rushing through her veins, she was coming down from it rapidly, crashing back to earth in an unpleasant plunge.

It would appear that Lizzie’s pregnancy had more or less killed a lot of the enjoyment that threesomes once held for her. She’d felt an unfamiliar surge of anxiety as they’d taken Jessie to bed, the kind that sex normally helped to dull. But this time the tumultuous, overwhelming feelings only seemed to grow as she watched Tommy fuck their new lover. Even though he’d kept his promise and not emptied himself inside of Jessie, the threat of yet another unintended accident from their liaison had set her so on edge that she found it almost impossible to fully lose herself even in Tommy’s familiar kisses and touches.

She was pretty sure that he was able to sense her nervousness, but whether he was able to guess the actual reason, or thought that she was just anxious because this was the first threesome they’d had since what had happened with Luca, she wasn’t sure. Either way, despite Jessie being the primary focus of the evening, he was being notably attentive towards her, eyes constantly darting over to check on her throughout, warm mouth seeking out her skin in attempts to pull her out of her own head.

He was looking at her that same way now, a slight crease forming between his brows. Lucy offered him a weak smile that only caused the look of concern to deepen, his other arm joining the first in wrapping around her so that he was hugging her tightly. Lucy squeezed him back, closing her eyes and burying her face in his chest. As if by doing so she could somehow hide away from the entire world.

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy left his meeting with Arthur Bigge in high spirits. It had taken some convincing, but all his conditions had been met. Everything was going according to plan.

Well, not everything. Lucy was still worrying him. She was doing considerably better than she had been during their holiday, but she still wasn’t wholly herself.

She used to smile and laugh so easily. Even at the absolute worst of his jokes, or with the smallest little bit of teasing, and he could have her giggling, trying to shield it behind one of her hands even as her mossy green eyes lit up, entire face crinkling with mirth.

But nowadays, a melancholic aura had draped over her, seeming to cling to her skin, casting a film of sorrow over her eyes. Of course Tommy did not expect her to go back to the way that things were before Luca. But it killed him to see her so despondent and broken.

He missed hearing her laugh.

What he would give to make it all better for her. To pull the sadness out of her eyes. Take it into himself, if he had to. Just so long as she didn’t have to carry it anymore.

She was still having nightmares and the occasional panic attack, as was to be expected. He had been worried originally that all the work that came along with preparing for the election would cause her too much stress. Especially with how fragile she still was. But if anything the work seemed to help, so he let her be.

But her comments about how he should marry Lizzie had struck a nerve in him, planting a seed of dread in his chest. He had always assumed if he were to ever marry again after Grace, it would be to Lucy. No one else. Especially not Lizzie.

He had meant what he’d said. He wasn’t letting her go. He’d rather burn his reputation and even the entire bloody company to the ground before he even considered something like that. But his Lucy seemed incapable of understanding that, and he was beginning to grow more and more worried that no matter how much he tried to reassure her, she was doubting her place at his side.

When he first brought up the idea of running for MP, she had asked him what was to become of her position as his assistant after he took office. The question had taken him aback. It had seemed so obvious to him that she would come with him. He’d hardly given it any real thought. Wherever he went, so did she. That was how things had always been, and he had no intention of changing them. Her worries seemed only somewhat abated when he smiled and coyly told her that MPs still needed assistants. It wasn’t long before she was fretting over the possibility of rumors spreading regarding their relationship and tarnishing his reputation.

As if his reputation was not already drenched in blood and mud.

He’d just grinned and kissed her temple, trying to appear relaxed and unbothered by any of it. Hoping that if he did, it would help to soothe her.

“Most politicians are sleeping with their secretaries, love. We won’t exactly be unique in that regard,” he’d told her. It seemed to have calmed her concerns enough. At least for the moment.

Adjusting the grip on his briefcase, he pushed out of the door and stepped into the crisp fresh air. Glancing around, he frowned when he didn’t spot Lucy on the bench where he’d left her before going in for the meeting. Bigge had wanted to meet with just him alone, and while Tommy had been inclined to kick up a fuss about it until he let Lucy accompany him, she’d insisted that he shouldn’t risk irritating Bigge just so she could be in the room while they struck their deal.

He hadn’t been particularly happy about it, but ultimately he had to admit that she had a point.

Looking around, a beat of panic tightened in his throat at no sight of her distinctive crimson hair. His heart started to pound hard in his chest. No. No, no, no, no…he’d just left her there for a second, she’d been armed, there were dozens of people around, surely she couldn’t have been just snapped up right off the street…

His head swiveled around, scanning the people passing by him. Maybe he’d just missed her. She was so short, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that he’d just lost her in the crowd of people.

He was just beginning to properly panic when he heard his voice at his elbow.

“How did it go?”

He whirled, eyes wide, chest still heaving with the startings of his panic attack, to find her standing there none the worse for wear, black coat pulled in tight around her.

Relief hit him like a blast to the face, and it took all his self control not to seize her in his arms and squeeze her tight to him. Instead he just let out a deep breath, shoulders relaxing. His eyes closed as he steadied himself, taking the time to remind himself that she was there and she was fine.

He opened his eyes again to find her still looking up at him, head cocked curiously. “Where were you?” he demanded, tone perhaps a bit sharper than he’d intended.

“I got bored, so I went for a walk.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s just…you weren’t here and I…” he huffed. “It’s alright. C’mon,” he indicated with his head towards the car that he’d parked on the edge of the curb. He held open the door for her, then slipped in after she’d gotten settled in the passenger seat. Setting his briefcase down and closing the door behind him, he turned to look at her. There was an odd bulge in the front of her coat. His eyes narrowed. The bulge twitched. “What’s that?”

Lucy clutched her coat tighter to her body, blinking up at him innocently. “What’s what?”

“What’s wrong with your coat?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her coat meowed. Tommy raised an eyebrow. Lucy pouted, letting the garment fall open to reveal a tiny little black and orange tortoiseshell kitten hidden underneath, blinking up at him with scrutinizing green eyes.

“What the bloody hell is that?”

Lucy stroked the little animal’s head. “It’s a kitten, Tommy. Surely you’ve heard of them before.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know what a kitten is, Lucy. What’s it doing tucked in your coat?”

“I heard her crying in the alley behind the bench I was sitting at. And when I went to look, she was soaking wet and shivering all alone in this little box. I couldn’t just leave her there.”

“The fuck are we going to do with a stray kitten, Luce?”

She shrugged. “We can keep her at the house. She could help with the mice problem.”

“We don’t have a mice problem.”

“And now that we have a cat, we never will.”

He eyed the kitten warily, still feeling like she was sharply analyzing him. Her little tail flicked back and forth, paws kneading at Lucy’s thighs. When Lucy scratched at the top of her head, she angled her face up, and batted at her playfully with one soft paw. Lucy giggled.

Tommy looked up sharply at the sound, biting the inside of his cheek to try to maintain his serious facade even as he felt himself soften at the sight of her smiling down at the cat.

“And you immediately assumed that I’d be alright with this?” he asked, the amusement obvious in his voice.

“You don’t have much of a choice.” Lucy flashed him a grin before her attention returned to the kitten, who’d curled up into a ball on her lap. Tommy raised an eyebrow, fond smile threatening to break containment as it tugged on the edges of his lips.

“No?”

Lucy looked up at him, a challenge entering her eyes. “You knocked someone else up.”

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. “You know what–that’s fair.”

She snickered, leaning forward to peck his cheek to let him know that there was no real bite to her words. Tugging off one of his gloves, he held his hand out to the cat. She sniffed at his knuckles, whiskers twitching with consideration, and then rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“She likes you.”

“Mm.” He gave her a few scratches under the chin, begrudgingly admitting to himself that the kitten was pretty fucking cute. And Lucy was right; the least he could do was let her keep the cat. “We’ll have to get her checked out by the vet before we take her home.”

“Of course. Who knows what she might’ve gotten into living on the streets. Poor baby.”

Tommy let his hand stroke over the kitten’s back. She was so little, he could probably have fit her in one palm when she was all curled up. He felt a slight buzz under his hand as she started purring. He could feel Lucy watching them both fondly.

“So it went well?”

“Hm?”

“The meeting with Bigge. Did it go alright?”

He smiled at her softly. “Yes; it went alright.”

Her face lit up, leaning into him. “Good.”

He turned his face to catch her lips with his, kissing her gently in celebration.

Between them, the kitten meowed.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Don’t you dare.”

Lucy grinned to herself as she approached Tommy’s office, hearing his voice even before she pushed open the heavy wooden door. She was greeted with the sight of the kitten perched on his desk, her little paw batting his box of matches closer and closer to the edge, her head cocked with intrigue.

Her green eyes peered over at him, holding his gaze, and promptly batted the box onto the floor. Tommy sighed, reaching across to scoop the little monster up and plop her down onto his lap. “You’re gonna be a little troublemaker, aren’t you?” But he was smiling to himself, a dimple appearing in his cheek when the kitten meowed in agreement.

Lucy smiled as she stepped fully into the office, walking over to set down a fresh stack of papers onto his desk. “Need you to sign these.” She collapsed back into a chair across from him as he plucked up a pen.

Her hand raised to rest against the side of her face as she watched him. With every passing day, the election drew nearer, and with it, her anxiety grew.

She’d been keeping an ear to the ground, regarding anything that might hinder him winning. But so far, with all the careful bribing and other methods of rigging that they’d implemented holding strong, it seemed like it would be an easy path to victory.

But there were some rumblings regarding Lizzie and the pregnancy that had started to spread. Lucy was pretty sure that they could keep them suppressed at least until the election was over. But not indefinitely.

It was going to become a problem.

She supposed it was almost funny, in a way. How being unmarried with an illegitimate child was likely to cause more harm to his reputation than being a notorious gangster.

They needed to address it. Figure out what they were going to do. And the longer that they took, the more damage the whole situation was likely to cause.

The kitten jumped into her lap, curling up with a soft purr. Lucy let her hand stroke mindlessly through her black and orange fur.

“Tommy?”

He looked up at her through the glinting lenses of his glasses, eyebrow raised, papers still clutched between his fingers.

“Yes?”

She’d been reluctant to bring up the subject ever since he so thoroughly shut her down the last time over it. But if she was being truly honest with herself, that wasn’t the only reason why she’d so willingly let it go.

She didn’t want him to marry Lizzie. And she sure as hell did not want to let him go.

We’ve still got some time. We don’t need to do anything about it yet.

She swallowed hard, feeling like the worst, most selfish scum on the earth, even as she forced a wobbly smile on her face.

“Never mind.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Time passed at seemingly the speed of light. And before she knew it, she was standing next to Tommy, the rest of the family–except for Lizzie who had to wait outside with the baby–crowded around him. They were all waiting with baited breath as the results of the election were announced over the loudspeaker. Lucy could feel her guts twisting nauseatingly inside her with nerves, heart leaping into her throat.

It had been an insane handful of months, and they’d all seemingly passed within the blink of an eye. She didn’t even know where all the time had gone.

Not long before the election took place, Lizzie gave birth to a baby girl, already bestowed the name Ruby by Polly before her arrival into the world.

And oh, did Tommy love that little girl.

It was heartwarming to see him fall so deeply in love with her, and every moment spent watching him with her made Lucy’s heart jump.

But God, did it also hurt.

She kept her melancholy and jealousy over the gorgeous little family he now had with Lizzie tucked down deep and away, where no one would ever find it. Ruby was a sweet baby, and she deserved nothing but good things in life. And Lucy did love her. Enough that she was more than prepared to walk away forever if she had to in order to give that girl a chance at growing up with a proper family around her.

She knew it made Tommy sad, to not be able to see her all the time. Ruby and Lizzie still lived at the home Tommy had bought for them, and while he visited when he could, he still did not get to see his daughter as often as he would if she lived at Arrow House.

They still had not had the conversation about what to do regarding that situation long-term. She’d tried to bring up the idea of him and Lizzie getting married again a handful of times, especially after Ruby’s birth, but Tommy still wouldn’t hear of it.

A part of her was worried that, despite the promising polls, his personal life would hinder his victory. And it would all be her fault. Because she had been selfish and decided to try to hold onto him, even though the selfless thing–the responsible thing–would have been to let him go so he could build a proper personal life to go along with his new ambitions.

A huge breath of relief left her when his name was announced over the loudspeaker, a wide smile quickly replacing the look of apprehension that had been there a moment prior. She hugged Tommy back tightly in celebration when he engulfed her in his arms, briefly forgetting that she was trying to behave more distantly towards him in public. Like a mere colleague rather than a lover. To try to save his reputation before the rumor mill fully caught wind of their affair and ran with it.

“I now declare Thomas Shelby to be the new Labor Member of Parliament for the constituency of Birmingham South,” the announcer boomed for all to hear. Not just in the room that they were all crowded in to hear the results, but across the entire bloody country.

Cheers erupted, everyone in the family swarming around him, all smiles and uninhibited joy. They soon made their way to the doors, out to where Lizzie was waiting with Ruby clutched in her arms. Tommy beamed as he scooped Ruby up, lifting her high above his head, the baby squealing and giggling in delight. Lucy smiled at the display and the baby’s happy coos as her father adjusted her to rest on his hip and carry her with him down the rest of the stairs. But her smile quickly fell when she spotted Lizzie flashing a truly snide smirk at Jessie where she was standing in the crowd. A tendril of trepidation coiled itself around her, wondering if she would be on the receiving end of such a look sooner or later. Lizzie had been behaving decently towards her as of late, but she was not fool enough to expect that to last.

She followed Tommy and Lizzie down the stairs, lingering back to let them both go first, walking side by side with their baby while she trailed behind them; alone.

And despite their current string of good fortune, of endless possibilities and new doors opening up before them, she found herself struggling to muster up any real hope for the future.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders series #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy

28 notes · View notes

bha3ls · 10 days ago

Text

using that idea i had earlier about rinn not losing her memory as the basis of her companion verse so. recruiting info and quest below.

companion quest: the surface drow

korinn can be found in two places to recruit- first near the chapel entrance where she is watching the looters from cover. at this time she's disinterested and dismissive of the party, and states that the looters have stolen some items that belong to her. not looking at or speaking to the party directly, the tadpoles will not connect. she will not volunteer any personal information and is evasive if asked about the ship, but an insight check will reveal she is hiding something and her hands are twitching.

if the party promises to attack the looters then she will offer to join as a temporary companion, otherwise there's no way here to recruit her. assuming the party takes her as a temporary ally, then after killing the looters she will offer a token of gratitude where the tadpoles will connect.

if not recruited, the party will come across her again in waukeens rest being threatened by one of the flaming fist survivors who think she was with the goblins and attacking drow. she will have retrieved her armour and weapons. if the party found the body of a looter when leaving the crypt then they'll notice that there's smeared blood across her torso and arms that someone has tried to wash away. this time the tadpoles will connect, and the visions that appear are disconnected flashes of her torture at kressa's hands.

it is much easier to recruit her here, the party only needing to defend her by saying she wasn't a part of this attack and then stating they're searching for a cure for the tadpoles. once recruited, she will be very insistent on going to moonrise "for the cure" and will feign amnesia, claiming that the head injury has caused her to forget nearly everything except being kidnapped from baldurs gate by the mindflayers. if passing certain checks, then she will go to the extent of revealing she has always lived in baldurs gate and works in a temple in the lower city.

she takes a similar role to astarion and lazael in camp, generally approving of evil choices and disapproving of helping others. will comment on how they don't have a lot of time to fix their affliction and shouldn't waste their time on anything but finding a cure.

her companion quest will generally note that she's never lived in the underdark, is unfamiliar with actual drow culture, and that she seems to know more than she lets on about the absolute. if she's in the party when going to the goblin camp, and thus experiencing the vision, then she can be questioned about her anger over the voices of the absolute.

following the goblin camp, after a long rest the party will find the brutalised corpse of a bard somewhere along the road similar to the dead boar. if she's present, then a successful check will note she seems amused by the body. you can either roll a persuasion or (a much higher) intimidation dialogue here, if successful then she will admit it's certainly a ritual sacrifice but claim the symbol is too damaged to recognise who its for.

in act ii, on visiting moonrise she will be recognised enough to be pressed about it by the party. if there's a high enough approval here then she will admit that she is a bhaalspawn and was a part of masterminding the tadpoles but was betrayed before the plan was enacted, otherwise ketheric will reveal it before their fight and question if they know who they're fighting beside.

there's two options here besides her becoming hostile; depending on the approval levels and type of playthrough then either the party can convince her to take revenge on the three who betrayed her and destroy the absolute plan...or to take revenge by killing thorm/orin/gortash and taking control of the absolute with them rather than for bhaal. in subsequent conversations she can reveal that she was initially using the party to get back to moonrise and hopefully just kill orin, finding them interesting enough allies that she stuck with them even after that, and that she lied about the amnesia as she knew they wouldn't help a bhaalspawn/the person who caused their condition.

#this is so waffley i fear #and will absolutely be edited as time goes on #𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖓𝖊 / with only teeth.

2 notes · View notes

sadisthetic · 1 year ago

Text

its the hard rock life

#my amv #hi fi rush #hi fi rush chai #chai hi fi rush #did i spend too much time and complete forsake work for this? absolutely.#my undiagnosed adhd wouldnt let me go.#also. i couldnt not do the bad pun. it would be very anti chai spirit to not go for it.#THIS GOES ON ART BLOG INSTEAD OF MAIN LIKE MY OTHER EDITS BC ITS A WORK OF ART.#THIS HAD TO BE DONE AND I VERY HAPPILY USED MY GOD LIKE EDITING POWERS TO BRING IT INTO EXISTENCE #tho i was admittedly rushing it a little sdkjfhehgkj. due to. the work ive procrastinated that i have to do NOW...#posting at 2am babes!

442 notes · View notes

ratatatastic · 29 days ago

Text

Who is the best and who is the worst to sit next to on the plane?

no one could agree who unanimously is the best insisting their seatmate, previous or otherwise, was (ekky→benny, benny→reino, sasha⇆bobby, swaggy→forsy, luosty→mikksy)

but the worst? with a whopping two votes against him (benny, swaggy) is ekky because hes loud and forces guys into joining the poker table 😭😭😭

special mention forsy and mikksy copping out of the question like theyre carebear incarnates and going everyone is the best :)

Primetime Panthers | 10.30.24 (x)

#carter verhaeghe #aaron ekblad #sam bennett #sam reinhart #evan rodrigues #aleksander barkov #sergei bobrovsky #gustav forsling #eetu luostarinen #niko mikkola #florida panthers #2425 #the editing is SO EVIL #“ekkys loud” (cuts to ekky going well /some/ would argue that rodrigues is the best because hes /quiet/)#yeah ekky whos that censored some huh. you guys mustve squabbled about this before so many times #to know sams club existed on the plane. oh sams club...#i need to know the updated poker table layout with the departure of most cats who sat there #swaggy willingly sits at the poker table and gets shocked when the guy whos the worst at poker bats his eyelashes at him to join #my favourite thing is swaggy and benny who dont want to hurt ekkys delicate feelings and try to say it as softly as they can #swaggy looking at the door nervously like ekky is gonna burst in and whine about him choosing him as the worst #him getting even more nervous as he mentions forsy because god forbid he gets in between 542 #[insert sasha all by myself swinging his legs as hes sat alone on picture day pic]#bobby “i enjoy the convos i have with sasha :)” vs sasha “when i want to talk bobby is always sleeping” truly comical #also luosty... mikkolier or mikkoLIAR i need to know the spelling of this...#luosty and his shit eating grin as he teases mikksy #insert sasha's comment on mikksy where he goes yeah hes chill hes not as sensitive as lundy #mikksys soft yeah anytime someone mentions he loves people :(((#“a man of the people :D” oh they absolutely blasted the groupchat with all the “man of the people” comments people made #when mikksy chugged a beer at elbo room and cussed on local news oh dear god

35 notes · View notes

elkian · 3 days ago

Text

big same

After all, Inspekta is so sweet, and cute, and friendly, and helpful! You trust your good pal Inspekta, don't you, Godpoke? Look at how silly and whimsical he is! Check out those cartoony speech patterns! He's just a harmless fella who needs a trustworthy deputy. It's a big job, but he trusts you to do it!

Doesn't feel good to be special? For a god to tell you that you're special?

I was, and I mean this sincerely, utterly fooled. I took in the front and read it as his real face for so long. Only once he started talking about wanting to be special and being unappreciated did the red flags start to catch my eye.

(I think even if I were allistic I'd still be Oblivious Dork Inc., but yeah.)

Inspketa being so cute is really an amazing ploy - all the Bizzys are, but he's the cutestest. And it's weaponized, but it took me almost the whole game to realize that.

Inspekta being the cutest is a red flag (dunno if it's intended, but Mina is sort of a parallel - extremely cute, and grips people so hard she destroys them). NO other god, or even character, is as cute as him. No one has those super duper sparkly eyes, no one does so many cutesy poses. And if you go back and replay or review after the reveal, you can spot the timing of cute faces and poses lining up with some extremely sus behavior and lines. It's incredible character writing and acting.

In the artbook, it's mentioned that he's visually inspired in part by Charlotte from Madoka Magica - a disarmingly cute character who bites the gunslinger's head off before anyone realizes the danger. Charlotte expanding to her full form and attacking is when the show gets serious. Inspekta doing so is the same.

Anyways, great game. I highly recommend replaying or reviewing yourself - it's incredible to see how the foreshadowing is folded in so seemlessly, enough for alert players to catch but still subtle until it hits you square in the face.

EDIT: Meant to mention, we see Inspekta's human form at the end and it's very interesting how the two bodies differ. The similarity is clear, but Hector is normal-guy cute. Inspekta is cartoony cute, the absolute cutest. You can read some self-esteem issues into his form, especially contrasted with King's godmode (though as mentioned she was already heavily deified so she was already most of the way there).

Hector is a normal-looking fellow. He's of average height insofar as we can tell in the style - a little taller than a standard Bizzyboy. His hair is a bit frizzy, his face is a bit fuzzy, and his body is a bit chubby.

Inspekta is a tall, thin figure who gets taller as time goes on. He doesn't have coke-bottle lenses; he has big ol' sparkly eyes. His hair is a smooth, wavy mass. The man is his own gijinka - his idealized anime self portrait. His cuteness isn't incidental - it's not clear how much a god's body changes over time, if at all, so it's not unreasonable to assume he mostly looked like this on Ascension.

(And someone else said it better than me but the fact that his coat is full of hands? There's nothing in there (during the finale) except hands? He's empty and grasping, huge yet hollow. He doesn't even have arms, just hands. Bauhauzzo is the same, but he's far less active, his hands coming to balance and rest at the sides of his broad body. Inspekta's hands disappear in The God Complex unless he's actively scrolling - like he doesn't want you to see them.

His tail seems natural in human form, yet taped on in godmode. His flexibility is unnatural and used to unsettling effect as he literally bends over backwards to convince you.

Inspekta's form is artificial from the word go, and it honestly is pretty tragic.)

A note on Great God Grove's core story (as in, MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW) and me, specifically:

An important reminder I got from playing Great God Grove is that I am susceptible to propaganda.

It's been argued that everyone is to some extent, but I don't know nearly enough about the subject to comment.

It's interesting watching LPs where the chat goes 'huh that's sus' about parts I blithely blitzed through. I've mentioned before that I had incorrect assertions of Bauhauzzo's personality; watching these LPs, I realize it's because almost all of the information I went in with came from a suspect source. The God Awards is a masterpiece of misinformation that completely went over my head the first time. I was going 'haha LimboLane is doing puppet videos again' and chuckling over how the BizzyBoys crammed Inspekta into Miss M's place, and was so accepting of the whimsy that I missed some red flags.

I thought the post-Milldread fight was odd - especially when Inspekta claimed he couldn't stop them because they wouldn't listen to him. The Bizzys are so excitable that it is plausible they might not listen... but he's supposed to be the God of Leadership.

The sword statues are weird and there's definitely an oversaturation of Inspekta merch in Hobbyhoo, but I genuinely didn't get a real clue until BuzzHuzz. And watching other people play, I'm catching all kinds of foreshadowing - Inspekta claiming to have intercepted Click Clack's letter, while Click Clack says Inspekta delivered it! The fact that Inspekta didn't receive a cruel 'King' letter of his own! And so much more! The game is absolutely rife with foreshadowing, but between the whimsy that's key to both LimboLane games I've played, the goofiness of the BizzyBoys, and how harmless and cute they seem for a while - that weaponized incompetence - that it took me, if not by surprise, then at least a really damn long time to truly catch on.

Something definitely feels weird by the time you reach Hobbyhoo, but I was on the fence - and it took me longer to be sure whether it was Inspekta or Capochin who'd initiated the whole thing.

This is far from the first time I've missed a hidden message or direction of a story until a major plot twist or outright revisiting it years later. It doesn't surprise me at all. But it is a good reminder. The Bizzyboys and Inspekta work as the villains they are because they are so adorable, and tiny, and harmless, and clueless! They're just lil guys! How can you be so mean! And that is a genuine risk in the real world, where truly nasty movements are shrouded behind absurdity and Disney-cuteness. Rick Brick referencing "family values" was as unsubtle as his namesake to the face.

#Elk text #Ggg spoilers #Ggg #Added more whoops

26 notes · View notes