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utterlyazriel · 13 days ago

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whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: getting to have them be not in constant danger or emotional turmoil for one chapter? crazy. how do these goobers even flirt <3 as always, thank u for your patience and please let me know what you think!

word count: 4.4k

synopsis: Finally accepting Cassian's invitation to breakfast, Rhys offers you a proposal. You take flight for the first time since that fateful night in Exordor.

CHAPTER TWELVE :: SHRIKE (TO YOUR SHY AND GLORIOUS THORN)

As dawn breaks the next morning, rain pours.

Weather has never been a deterrent for Illyrian warriors. Cassian, Azriel, and yourself rise and head to train all the while, welcoming the extra challenge. Blades and boots swing, slicing through a thousand raindrops, sending graceful arcs of water in their wake.

From a distance, the movements so controlled, you think you might almost get mistaken as Summer soldiers, so adept in the water.

Though, as training draws to a close and you all pack inside, wings shivering from the icy sheets of rain, you steal a long glance at the two towering figures.

Their wings, like your own, make a terrifying silhouette and your matching armour glitters in blackness and rain.

With a glimmer of pride, you rapidly reconsider—there's no mistaking you for anything but what you are: soldiers of the Night.

“Breakfast?” Cassian offers, as he’s done after every one of your training sessions. He's the first to break the tired silence post-training, pulling the bulkier, unneeded armour off his chest.

It appears, despite your constant declinations, Cassian is not one to be discouraged. He still asks and he never seems put out with your answer.

That fact stirs something in you, a warm glow — his easy attempts to always include you mean more to you than he'll likely ever truly know.

You glance at Azriel beside you, silent. He’s scrubbing at his wet hair with a towel, same as yourself, and when you meet his eyes, he tilts his head an inch. If you want to, I will too.

Between training and wandering the halls occasionally, you still haven’t actually spent much time outside your room.

It's a built-in habit you've yet to shake. Fruitless exploring was an expenditure you couldn't afford to waste energy on back in the mountains.

You steal another glance at Azriel.

Friends. That's what you are now. Friends go to breakfast with one another... at least, you think they do.

Besides, eyes darting to Cassian, you have two of them now. Maybe it’s time to start breaking out of your old routine and start forging a new one.

“Alright.” you say, trying to swallow the timidness in your voice.

“Really?” Cassian goads, brows raised high, even as his eyes gleam happily at the accepted invite. A wicked grin takes over his face.

“I’ve been trying to get you to come for weeks and now Az’s here, suddenly you’re in.”

Something in you flusters at his teasing, even if you know his words has no real heat.

You’re saved from having to sputter through an answer when Cassian, forgoing using a towel, shakes his wet hair out much like a dog would.

Cold rains splatters out and you hiss, flicking a drop off the edge of your wing with distaste.

Brows raised, you say, “I’ve wonder why.”

Cassian’s shit-eating grin is his only reply.

You cut a glance to Azriel to find he’s already looking your way, a weary but amused look in his eyes, his shadows lingering around his shoulders, languid and relaxed. He’s had far more years of Cassian's nonsense than you.

Breakfast, you find, is a lot of the food Azriel had brought with him to Exordor.

Ripe, fat berries, fruits of a multitude of colours, and still warm bread fill the ochre tabletop. Jugs and flagons of different juices and the like group in the middle. You're spoiled for choice.

Back home, it would be a feast. Once upon a time, you’d have probably sneered at the display, as you had once at Azriel.

Now, you think of Rhys' words.

You think about earning and deserving.

This change is one of the harder things for you to face… but you know it’s for the best.

The table is set for three. As you sit, you ponder if Cassian’s been setting a place for you each time, never knowing if you’d say yes—and wonder more if he found it aggravating, your constant closedoffness.

A glance at him only reveals his still friendly smile. There’s not a hint of annoyance.

Right. You’re friends.

Cassian takes the seat to your left, Azriel on your right, leaving you in the middle between them. Rhys had explained the uses and limits of the magic of the House to you already and as such, you had become familiar with it fetching meals to your room.

It’s been a plain affair. You’re used to at best, tasteless, and at worst, stomach-churning food. As long as it’s nutritional, it’s on the menu.

How are you supposed to know what else there is? Even the foods Azriel had brought with him weren’t as decadent as these before you.

You find yourself waiting, watching the plates on either side of you to see what they’ll choose. The rain continues outside, a gentle din on the sides of the House.

Cassian’s plate fills first.

You watch, wide-eyed, as several hot, flat brown discs flop onto his plate, still steaming. A drizzle of something thick and sweet follows, a soft caramel colour dolloping in the middle.

It smells heavenly.

“Have you ever had pancakes?” Azriel’s quiet voice from the other side of you speaks up.

You blink, tearing your eyes off Cassian’s breakfast to Azriel and gingerly shake your head.

Pancakes. You steal another glance at the plate and find the name to be aptly fitted.

Azriel’s plate has filled itself too but with something different. There’s some kind of grain, a pottle of something pink, with cubes of different fruit littered over the top.

“Would you like to try some?”

Your eyes dart up from Azriel’s plate to his face, realising he’s still nodding to the pancakes.

You’ll admit the pancakes look far better than whatever you’ve been asking of the House. While the bread supplied was fresher than anything you’d had before, you’d hardly had the imagination to conjure up something like pancakes.

Whatever your face looks like, Azriel can seem to read the answer in it.

“Cass,” He says, jutting his chin to his friend’s plate. “Give them a pancake, will you?”

Cassian, mouth currently full, turns to Azriel with a furrow between his brow. “But—” He starts, then stops. The furrow on his face softens as he glances down at you and, without swallowing, he says exaggeratedly, “Fine. Guess we can share.”

Then he spears two pancakes on his fork and slops them onto your waiting plate.

“You like syrup?” Cassian asks.

The question means nothing to you. From behind you, Azriel shakes his head no, answering for you. From what he recalls of your meal times together, you had screwed your nose up at the too-sweet fruits, too unused to it.

“Butter?” Cassian tries again.

“I suppose.” You answer, confused as to why he’s asking.

Cassian glances up and then a small bowl of softened butter materialises before you. He picks it up and tips it onto your two pancakes with a smile. Then he resumes his eating without another word.

Still hesitant, you shoot one more glance in Azriel’s direction.

You’ve been given food before, by Azriel himself, but not quite like this. Not sharing what’s already on someone’s plate. Some smaller, younger part of you almost wants to sniffle at the abject kindness.

Azriel’s already begun eating but the motion of your head draws his eyes. The small upturn of his lips is encouragement enough. Swallowing back the thickness in your throat, you dig in.

Pancakes… are pretty life-changing.

Azriel is right, you’re not such a fan of the sickly sweet brown fluid that coats the cakes, sweet enough to make your teeth ache. But the butter, melted and velvety with the fluffy pancake— gods.

You take one bite and then quickly stuff in two or three more, just in case Cassian suddenly decides he wants them back. Cassian guffaws at your rapid motions and follows suit, stuffing his mouth full.

He glances at you, catching your eye, both of you chewing through the delicious breakfast. Cassian raises his eyebrows with a pleased, smug smile as if to say I know, right?

You smile at him, without even thinking about it, shovelling the next bite in.

It melts on your tongue. Mother, you're kicking yourself a bit as you chew the mouthful slower this time, turning over every flavour. Turning down Cassian’s invite each morning has been turning down this.

You’re a moron. There’s no doubt you’ll be asking the House for this every morning—and night even, if you’re allowed.

It occurs to you then, as you’re on your fifth bite or so, that you could’ve easily summoned your own stack on pancakes. Or either male could’ve done it for you.

But no, instead Cassian had shared from his plate.

The pancakes suddenly taste sweeter than ever.

"Ah, y/n," Rhys' satiny voice tugs your attention up, to the Male himself, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Glad to find you here."

An age-old instinct of obeying commanding warriors sends your spine straightening, your chair scraping harshly against the stone floor.

Cassian snickers good-naturedly and you spot a shadow of Azriel's disappear into his ear—resulting a loud shriek from the warrior.

"You said you wouldn't do that anymore, you bastard!" He all but hisses, leaning forward on the table to glare past you.

Azriel gives a nonchalant shrug, his hazel eyes dancing to you playfully for a quick moment. Rhys and you both watch with varied levels of amusement and boredom.

"Yes, yes, that's enough now children." Rhys comments, a sly smile teasing at his mouth as he fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve.

Cassian, in his centuries old-age, sticks his tongue out in response—then pushes back on his chair so it’s balancing on its back legs, teetering.

Rhys regards him with one bored stare before his attention turns to you, his smile fading, expression turning more serious.

"I have a proposition for you."

Your mouth dries, nerves skittering under your skin. You swallow your mouthful. "A proposition? Like... bad?"

Rhys smiles, feeling your nervousness through your thinning mental wall. He gives it a soft tap to remind you and you inhale sharply, fortifying it instantly.

"Not at all." He assures you calmly. "It's to do with... Let's call it overdue earnings."

Instinctively, your gaze seeks out Azriel to your right.

Shadows swirling his shoulders, you're surprised yet again by how easily you seem to read him with just one quick glimpse of each other. How you can suddenly feel the tangible encouragement forming within you, just behind your ribs.

He smiles, like he knows more than he says, and casts his gaze back to his breakfast.

You glance at Cassian too, maybe your closest friend now, and he simply shrugs, none the wiser.

"What is it?"

Rhys wanders further forward, leaning to rest his forearms atop one of the empty chairs at the table. His violet gaze takes in two of his Inner Circle and decides if you don't mind them hearing, he doesn't either.

Besides, it's not as if it wasn't Azriel's own idea.

"As you know, due to the backward ways in many of Illyrian warcamps, females are not seen as warriors. While many allow them to train, Exordor..."

Rhys jaw clenches tightly over the name. "It had stricter rules that I could not interfere with. Please know, that is not without immense regret."

A glimmer of night ripples across the room as Rhys hard gaze burns into the table, lost in a haze of an angry memory.

Azriel clears his throat and then the night retracts rapidly, gone without a trace after a second. Rhys lifts his head, giving it a slight shake.

"My apologies. This proposition is not about that — this is about The Blood Rite."

Your brows jump, the words out his mouth the very last ones you were expecting to hear. The Blood Rite? The cutlery in your hands suddenly seems heavier. Your wings sink an inch.

As if the mention of it made them darker, the tattoos on the tan skin of each warrior around you seem to glow more prominently.

You swallow to try clear your dry mouth.

“What about it?” You croak.

“Given your circumstances, it’s understandable why partaking in it was not an option.” Rhys begins.

You expect his tone to take on a sympathetic lilt but it does no such thing.

“Given the level of skill that both Azriel and Cassian have seen from you,” He waves a casual hand between the two warriors. “I don’t believe it’s a question of if you’d survive.”

The knowledge that they’ve been discussing you, your skill, between them without you there—normally such a thing would make you prickly.

But with what Rhys says… knowing they’re vouching for you instead, the prickly feeling washes away to an embarrassed gratitude. They’re on your side, you have to remember.

“The proposition I have for you is to receive The Blood Rite ceremonial tattoos.”

The grip on your fork loosens, the utensil sliding an inch before you catch it again, but not before it hits the edge of the table with a loud bang. You jump at the noise, wings tucking closer on instinct.

“I—” Words die in your mouth, your eyes screwing shut a moment. When you speak, it’s with a bitter resignation. “I have not completed The Blood Rite. It’s— that- I would hardly be earning it.”

Azriel makes a quiet noise of disagreement beside you, eyes still on his plate, but says nothing more.

Rhys doesn’t look surprised at your rebuttal, merely rolling back his shoulders casually.

“Perhaps, that’s one way to view it. Perhaps there are others. Regardless, your Highlord is offering it, if it’s something you decide you want.”

Cassian scoffs a laugh at his casually thrown out title and you tense, not expecting such outright disrespect.

Rhys, however, simply rolls his eyes and with a flick of his hand sends Cassian’s still teetering chair backward.

Cassian barely saves himself, jolting forward to grip the edge of the table and delivering his brother a scathing glare. Rhys grins back, feline and taunting.

“Still sure you want to be friends with them?”

Azriel’s voice is just above a whisper, words soft and curling into your ear. You turn and find, with a jolt in your chest, that he’s much closer than you’re expecting, leaning over to be closer to you.

Mother.

It’s not as if you forget how beautiful Azriel is but this close, it's impossible to ignore.

His eyelashes are dark and long, his hazel eyes, soft and honey-like. The cupids bow of his lips looks plush. You can trace a scar that carries from his chin up his cheek.

You realise you’re staring after a long moment of silence — eyes darting away, you clear your throat.

“They’re better company than some, believe me.” You say, thinking back to Exordor with a glance back at Azriel.

He’s sat back in his seat and he gives a barely noticeable roll of his eyes. “Yeah, well, that competition is hardly fierce.”

A laugh titters out of you at that — and Azriel’s shadows spring up, as if in response.

Clearing his throat, Rhys calls your attention back to the conversation at hand (now that Cassian was done attempting to pelt him with bits of pancake, which he was subsequently misting, resulting in a fantastic aroma through the kitchen).

“It’s an offer.” Rhys reiterates kindly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t wish to but… I implore you to think it over.”

He tilts his head toward the windows in the mountain side.

“Spend the day down in Velaris and consider it. And try to consider what we talked about too, about the things we feel we deserve.”

Straightening up, he taps the chair with his knuckles, preparing to leave you be.

“Whatever you choose, I hope you know that there is no wrong answer. Tattoos or not, amongst friends you are already considered a true warrior.”

And despite how the two males on either side of you nod, solemn and truthful, it didn’t purge the feeling that welled inside you—familiar and reminiscent of keeping a secret.

You wonder if you’ll ever stop feeling like a fraud.

—

Even with back to back training, only mere hours of slumber between each session, the gleam good sleep has given you is impossible to miss.

By now, Azriel has seen dozens of early mornings with you.

Back in Exordor, you had looked different in more than one way. Beyond the grime of the mountains and your justified, cold defensiveness, it was your eyes that betrayed you. Eyes that carried a tiredness that never left.

Azriel knew the feeling well.

In the Illyrian mountains, sleep is not rest.

Sleep is a sliver of refuge, letting your aching body recharge just enough to lurch back awake after a couple restless hours. Fuel to keep you going and nothing more.

But this morning, stopping at the threshold out to the balcony, you had peered up at the rain bucketing down and frowned.

Then with a silent huff, you had rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned into your hand.

Azriel, watching silently from across the courtyard, felt his shadows spin up in a tizzy at the sight — and he nearly blushed scarlet as they directly disobeyed his instructions to rein themselves in, a few shooting across the courtyard to greet you.

It was the first morning he’d seen you not tired, but sleepy. Azriel couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t adorable either.

He could only hide his smile and warm cheeks with a duck of his head, praying his shadows behaved himself.

But there was no disguising the tug on the mating bond, immeasurably proud and pleased for you.

Whether you noticed it or not, he didn’t know. You’d stepped down, onto the balcony and into rain, and promptly stalked towards the weapons rack, wings held high.

It had been one of the first things Azriel had admired about you—your drive, steely and unflinching.

Even now, thrown into a new place with unfamiliar faces, tossed into a whole new life, your determination doesn’t falter.

Fighting, training, honing yourself into a living weapon—seamlessly using blades as if they’re an extension of your very self—you commit yourself to training fiercely.

But… Azriel can tell that without direction, your ambition is beginning to make you listless.

You’re getting better—that there is no doubt about. Even the slight deafness in your left ear you’ve mastered well enough that if Azriel wasn’t paying attention, he might’ve missed it.

But in Exordor, there had been a goal.

Something to measure up to, to pour your determination towards — and without it in Velaris, Azriel worries about you.

There’s unfinished business waiting for you in Exordor. Your valiant mission is not yet abandoned and if you ever deigned to ask, Azriel knows he would take you there, without hesitation.

However, things have shifted whether you seem to realise it or not.

You’re no longer the only one in your corner. You haven’t been for some months.

True, there had been the matter of your… concealed identity wedged between you and Azriel and it had been reason enough to keep your plans small. You’d explained to him once before, the aid of being unnoticeable.

You’re not anymore. And with the terror of the events in Exordor still fresh enough in his mind, it’s impossible not to fear what might happen when you eventually return.

You aren’t used to living, just for yourself. Of that being enough of a reason to live, to thrive. Azriel fears your ambition will drive you to your death, no matter how honourable.

You would fight until you physically can’t anymore against the injustices of your home.

A threatening pain splices through his chest at the very thought — of just getting you back, gaining your forgiveness, getting the smallest glimpses of your happiness— just to have it ripped away from him again.

His mate, his heart warbles terribly.

His head settled resolutely, he trails behind you to the breakfast table, mission solidified. He needs to show you that your home isn’t among the mountains anymore.

Exordor may have been your birthplace but Velaris, here — with him, something quiet whispered —was where you belonged.

He just needed to show you.

—

“Have you flown since leaving Exordor?”

At the edge of a thousand steps, it’s certainly a warranted question.

The intensity of the early morning rain has waned with the day but it still falls softly. It adds a chill to the breeze — but it’s nothing comparable to the Mother’s Kiss.

You're all taking Rhys' plan and heading down into Velaris for the day. The staircase presents itself as one option but, given the knowledge of wards, there's a clearly more favourable one. Flying.

Azriel’s eyes drift up to the tips of your wings. The sight of the puckered, scarred spaces that once held stakes is enough to inspire a jolt of fierce anger. He swallows a shudder, well aware of the sensitivity of such wings.

Noticing his stare, you shift on your feet and tuck your wings in tighter. His gaze, while unjudging, is enough to make you fidget beneath the attention.

Azriel snaps his eyes back to your face.

“I haven’t. Madja told me I could, uh,” You answer with a wave of your hand, your gaze averted to the long, winding staircase ahead. “About a couple weeks ago but…”

Shrugging, you force yourself to meet Azriel’s gaze. “Well, where would I even go?”

Azriel’s heart wilts in his chest at your words. Nothing without purpose—it's the only way you know how to live.

You’ve had no prying and relentless brothers to push you into doing things as he had. No friends to remind you to live, as well as just survive.

No flying just for the fun of it. You’ve been starved of one of Azriel’s favourite things in the world.

Even him, your first friend, had only encouraged further training. A muscle feathers in Azriel’s jaw. A misgiving he’ll make sure to rectify.

Casting his mind back to a memory from some months ago, he recalls the fervent urge he felt upon returning to Velaris — the want to show you his home from the skies.

Focusing his mind back on the present, Azriel smiles down at you, his dark curls collecting drops of waters.

“Anywhere you like.”

Cassian takes his cue, launching himself up into the sky with ease.

Azriel watches him for a moment and then prepares to follow suit, bracing his thighs and shaking out his wings.

A glance at your face reveals the hint of hesitation.

He searches within him, gripping the bond tightly, to feel for your worry. In response, your anxieties skitter along to him, revealing your heartbreaking reservations and giving them to him — unknowingly soothing you in the process.

Still, Azriel pauses and then, heart in his throat, he lays a scarred hand on your shoulder in assurance. Prays you won’t shift away from him or his touch.

You don’t. In fact, a newer expression shutters across your face, eyelashes fluttering but you hold his stare.

“You won’t fall.”

You don’t question how he can name your fear so easily.

Instead, in a brave face of vulnerability, you ask, voice smaller than you intend, “How can you be sure?”

Azriel grips the bond tighter, letting his assurances pool in the form of unwavering confidence in you. He hopes you feel it — feel it, and believe it too.

“Because you’ve never fallen before. And because,” Azriel sighs softly, an ache creeping up his throat. His voice is low, his hazel eyes earnest. "You might've changed since Exordor but they don't get this. They don't get to take it from you. It's yours."

His hands slips from your shoulder and the bond tightens in his chest, as if urging him back. Azriel ignores it and turns back to face the rainy skies ahead.

Then his boots bear down against the stone as he takes flight, cutting through the drizzle of rain to climb up into the sky. The final step, he knows, has to be taken by you alone.

It doesn’t stop the uncertain waver in Azriel’s chest at leaving you one step behind.

But his faith in you is steadfast.

And a moment later, he’s proven right to do so as an unimaginable pulse of joy shoots down the bond, molten hot.

It’s raw, unfiltered relief.

It mingles with a joy so potent that Azriel’s shadows droop against his neck, as if snuggling up to the blazing warm feeling.

He falters, dipping in altitude momentarily, before he remembers to keep his wings moving.

Through the gloom of the day, Azriel feels you before he sees you coming — though the moment you’re in view, the familiar figure of an Illyrian warrior in flight, your radiancy is all he can see.

“You were right!” You call across the sky, unable to cage the glee in your voice.

There’s an unsteadiness to your motions, adjusting to the loss of drag due to your news scars, but it does nothing to tamp your happiness. You soar towards him through the rain, twirling in an elegant barrel roll that boasts your years of flight.

And it dawns on him, the underlying motive you had admitted to that underpinned the lie you had spun.

What heart-wrenching words had you uttered to him? I just wanted to keep my wings.

Azriel thanks the Mother, the Cauldron, and every star in the sky that you get to.

“I’m only sorry it’s not a better day for it.” Azriel says as you drift to his side, raising his voice so you can hear him. Flight is noisy, even if you’re travelling idly as the pair of your are.

You fly a few metres higher and then glide down with an easy precision, grinning, your face misted from the rain.

“I think it’s perfect.” You call back. Azriel can feel it, trickling along the bond like sweetened syrup, you really mean it.

Waiting leisurely further ahead, it’s evident that Cassian’s patience is waning.

Dipping back and joining the line up, he glides alongside you with a smile that promises mischief.

“Oh, so she can fly!” He drawls, arms tucking up behind his head lazily. “But can she race?”

His brows raise in clear competition and Azriel’s about to remind you that you don’t have to entertain all of Cassian’s antics — when his brother straightens out, shouting, “Go!” and jetting off forward.

You splutter for just one second. “I don’t even know where to go-!”

The end of your sentence blurs as you take off after Cassian, not a clue where you’re going but too competitive to not rise to the challenge. Azriel grins, watching for a moment as you tuck in your wings and dive to pick up speed, nearly disappearing in the fog of the rain.

Your fierce delight streaks along the bond and it’s what Azriel follows as he takes off after you, the invisible string leading his way, glowing like a shooting star.

tags below!

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco

@iamjimintrash @maendering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee

@viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13

@bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa

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i'm attempting copying n pasting tags so if you DID receive a notif about this posting please please let me know !

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bitterrobin · 7 months ago

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the mom/dadification of Dick really starts to be detrimental when people say things like "[insert parental figure] should've done more to properly reprimand/comfort [insert whump blorbo here]" Especially when it comes to the 2009 era with Tim's whole deal - its always "why didn't Dick 'parent' Damian better and do something for Tim???" and never actually analyzing why that whole idea is wrong. Dick isn't Tim's father and Dick isn't Damian's father. He's Tim's older brother first and foremost. Why does whenever Bruce die or do something shitty suddenly everyone shoves Dick into the Fatherhood role? He has responsibility as the adult in simple terms, yes, but at the time of Bruce's death in the 2009 Reborn era he was not Damian's family.

He was watching Damian because Damian at the time was an obstacle, like running around having to carry a bomb and watch it so it doesn't explode. He wasn't taking care of Damian because he cared about the kid (at first) and he told Tim that much before Tim decided to leave. He explicitly told Tim that he trusted him as an equal partner, not another kid he needed to watch out for. And whether that sentiment is wrong or not is your opinion, but theres something to said about Dick's own struggles with independence and how he was probably trying to give Tim a chance of independence that wouldn't end as badly as Dick and Bruce's schism did. It backfired in a sense, and honestly I feel regardless of whether Tim stayed as Robin or not things would still have ended shitty because they were both grieving and Tim is a teenager becoming an adult and they were not agreeing on the Bruce thing. (Even if Tim was never shown on panel telling Dick his actual ideas for Bruce being alive before he left).

Whatever idk. I just feel people forget Dick has his own serious issues and absolutely none of the Batman characters would be adept at therapy speak or actively acknowledging their own problems. Dick has his own shit to deal with, just as Tim has his own issues and Damian has issues. There's never going to be a correct solution to the very human conflict going on. You can't "I'm a good parent/sibling" your way out of it. Dick suddenly gaining self-sentience and deciding to punish Damian like a dad would change nothing. Honestly it'd make things worse, Damian has never responded well to parenting and I don't get why people think getting yelled at or put in baby jail would fix his deep-seated issues with the concept of mom/dad. Damian getting punished wouldn't fix anything. Tim staying Robin wouldn't fix anything because he was already set on leaving to search for clues on his theory.

#people: dick should've yelled at him or taken a privilege away or literally have shoved him in jail or something #me: ok but Damian has never once been a kid who'd listen to an adult if they did any of those things he'd probably just lash out more #people: who cares about Damian??? what about poor Tim? (who was already going to drift apart from the family regardless)#(who was clearly being set up on a teenage discovery/maturation journey already)#damian wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #dc #damian; a painted bird called tamer

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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 4 months ago

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knight nat and princess reader in a medieval au. I need it 😣

Silk Chiffon

A/N: Anon. ANON. I literally love this. And you. Princesses are like... my fave. How could I not think of this. I'm obsessed. Thank you. Also i'm so sorry it took so long i started writing like as soon as I got the ask and then promptly lost all motivation. Ends kind of abruptly so if anyone wants a part two you should let me know!

Summary: your father appointed a new head knight to protect you.

Pairing: Knight!Nat x Princess!Reader

Warning(s): not historically accurate (I'm not even sure what period this would be okay let me live)

Word Count: 4.2k

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Slowly, you walked through the corridor to the throne room. Your father had requested your presence, as today he was appointing a new head guard for you. Supposedly, this knight was the best in the land, and as sole heir, you needed the best protection possible.

You round the corner into the throne room and float up to your parents, giving them a curtsy before taking a seat in your own throne. Once you get comfortable, you smooth out the emerald green fabric of your gown, making sure there are no visible wrinkles in it. You don't want to make a bad impression on the person who is supposed to keep you safe.

Before long, a single knight entered the room. You couldn't see too well, unable to discern what the knight looked like. All you could see was blonde hair, so bright it looked unnatural.

As the figure got closer, you were able to see more of what they looked like. And something quickly became clear to you.

Your new guard was a girl.

A really, really beautiful girl.

You almost broke into a smile, but you controlled yourself. Act too excited, and your father would be suspicious. He was probably already upset that your new knight was a woman.

"Who are you?" Your father asked as the woman approached his throne.

Before responding, she looked you straight in the eyes and dropped into a curtsy, holding eye contact the entire time. When she spoke, her words were confident, and she seemed incredibly sure of herself.

"I'm Princess y/n's new guard. You requested the finest knight in Italy, and here I am." Her voice was on the deeper side, and the raspiness of it nearly made you swoon. How you were going to live with this woman nearly 24/7 was a mystery to you.

"I was informed that a Sir Nathaniel Scatorccio would be arriving today. You don't appear to be him. No female knight could be the best." Your father was clearly upset. You knew he only wanted what was best for you, especially since your mother had passed. But you wanted this girl to stay.

"You received what you requested. The best knight is me. The ink must have smudged on the letter. My first name is Natalie, not Nathaniel."

Natalie. What a pretty name.

After a moment, you spoke up. "Father, I say let the girl stay. We have the rest of the royal guard. If she is truly the best, we shall have more protection. If she is not, the rest of the guard has been specially trained to keep us safe."

Your father thought for a minute before he responded.

"I see no harm in that. The girl can stay. But she will go through royal guard training to prepare her for the task of protecting you. I do not care that she has been trained already. You need someone who has been trained for your safety and yours alone."

You smile at Natalie when your father finishes speaking.

"Well then, we should get you settled in."

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

Two days later, you found yourself watching Natalie through your dressing room window as she did her training. She moved like water, even with her heavy armor on. You were hopeful that she was as good as she said she was. It would be harder for you to convince your father to keep her around if she wasn't adept.

You heard the door to the room open, and you quickly turned away from the window. In walked your lady-in-waiting and closest friend, Lottie.

"Staring again? That is the second day in a row that I've caught you at that window. And it has only started since that new knight appeared." She smiles as she begins preparing your gown for the day. It's a floral purple thing, not nearly as heavy as your green one from the other day. You didn't have anything important today, so you got to stay inside.

"What? I cannot gaze across the courtyard anymore?" You scoff and walk towards Lottie. The attempt at haughtiness is futile, however, as a bright crimson blush has spread across your cheeks.

"Princess Y/n, I cannot tell you what to do. I can tell you that you should not become too attached. She is a knight. You are a princess. You are expected to marry and she is expected to protect you. There is no epic love story for the two of you, at least not now."

You sigh as Lottie begins dressing you. You know you would never be able to openly be with Natalie. But there was no harm in watching her train.

"I'm sorry to upset you. I just wish you would be more careful. You don't know how Natalie may react." She finishes lacing up your corset and moves to begin putting your dress on.

"It is innocent enough that I am just watching her train. I don't anticipate anything more happening."

Lottie smiles at you as the dress goes on, and you huff.

"Be careful, Y/n. That is all I ask."

"I'm always careful."

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

Natalie sat down on a bench in the courtyard, exhausted. She was used to extensive training, sure, but this was something different entirely. The days were long, and not to mention her lack of sleep from being in a new place. The only thing that made anything worth it was the food.

And you. But she wasn't thinking about that right now. She didn't have time for a silly infatuation with the princess. She had work to do.

It's not like the both of you could be together, anyways. She was a royal knight, and you were a princess expected to marry a prince.

Suddenly, a figure blocked the sunlight. She looked up to see who it was, and lo and behold, it was you. The girl she was just thinking of.

"Good afternoon. I'd like to request that you join me for supper. I believe that if you are to be my personal guard, we should get to know each other. I expect to see you there at seven. No later." Your tone was a bit demanding, but you smiled down at her, trying to put her at ease.

"I suppose I can't decline this invitation?" She asks, and your face falls a bit. You quickly recover, however, sure she's just worried about dining with your father.

"No, I'm quite sorry. It is mandatory. However, I may ease your worries. My father will not be joining us, as he is away in another kingdom. I know not what for, only that he will be away for a fortnight." You stand there, patiently waiting for her to respond.

"Seven. I will see you then."

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

"This is not one of your better ideas, Princess," Lottie warned, helping you change into a bit more formal of a dress for your dinner.

"Don't be ridiculous. It is completely innocent. I would like to know the girl." While what you said to Lottie was technically true. However, you had a slight ulterior motive for your dinner.

"You can claim innocence all you want, but you don't watch a girl the way you've been watching her without having some kind of feelings for her." Lottie began smoothing the silk of your skirt. The dress you had chosen was a soft pink thing with ornate embroidered detailing across the bodice. The neck dipped down low enough to show off your cleavage.

"I'm finished with this conversation. Nothing I say will convince you, and I'm tired of hearing advice."

"Luckily for you, you're finished here. Your dinner begins in five minutes. I may suggest you make haste."

With that, you shot Lottie a small smile and hurried out of your dressing room and towards the dining hall. As you approached the room, you slowed down. You didn't want to come rushing in and look improper.

You almost float into the room, it doesn't even look like you're walking at all. Natalie isn't there when you arrive, which gives you the opportunity to sit and prepare yourself for her presence. You sit down at the head of the table and smooth out your skirt.

It's five minutes after seven before Natalie comes rushing into the dining room, her hair a mess and clothes rumpled. Her attire was certainly not fit for a royal supper, and neither was her decorum, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were just glad she showed up at all.

"You're late," you say, before remembering that you want her to like you. "No matter. Please, sit here, next to me."

She does as requested, and you can't help but smile. She truly looks wonderful, no matter how messy she appears.

"I'm sorry that I came later than requested. I lost track of time. I didn't want to keep you waiting, Princess."

"No matter. You're here now." You turn to one of the many servants standing near the table. "Could you please bring us our soup? Thank you."

The woman scurried off to bring you the first part of your supper, and you turn over to Natalie. She wasn't in a dress, which honestly didn't surprise you. The royal guard was never in dresses, why should Natalie have to be?

"So, how did you come to be such a fine knight? As far as I was aware, women couldn't become knights."

"Usually they can't. But my asshole of a dad wanted me out of his hair, so he dressed me up as a boy and sent me away." She seems unbothered by this, and you have to stifle a gasp when she curses in front of you. How could this girl be a royal knight and not understand the proper etiquette for dining with a princess?

"And no one thought to check if you were a boy? What happened when you grew up? Clearly they did not just throw you out." As you finish your sentence, a maid brings you both your soup. You smile at the girl and turn back to Natalie, anticipating her answer

"By the time it was clear I wasn't a boy, I had already become one of the most skilled knights in my order. I was better than men twice my age, and no one was willing to kick me out." She shrugs and slurps at her soup. You try not to cringe. Of course, it's not her fault. She wasn't raised the same way a typical girl would have been. You try your best to lead by example, taking small mouthfuls of the soup, barely making any sort of noise at all.

Honestly, you found her demeanor quite endearing. The way she didn't seem to care at all what others thought of her. It seemed freeing. You wished you had the ability to do that. Instead, you were forced to be the epitome of excellence, and nothing less than perfect. It was exhausting.

You couldn't complain too much, you knew. Plenty of people in your kingdom had it much worse. You had a roof over your head and plenty of food. You just also yearned for a bit more freedom.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly, and Natalie kept up the conversation well. She seemed kind, if a little blunt. When you both had finished eating, she offered to walk with you to your chambers. Of course, you obliged. She was your personal guard, how could you say no?

You walked together to your quarters, and it took all of your strength not to ask her for her entire life story. You're sure she would tell you if you asked, but you want her to volunteer the information herself.

"There you are, Princess." she stopped and opened the door to your room, bowing as she did so.

In that moment, you were so enamored with her that you had no way of stopping yourself. Slowly, you leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Natalie looked shocked, and as soon as you saw the look on her face, you started to apologize profusely.

"Oh, I apologize. I must have misread the situation. You mustn't tell anyone. I'm so so-" she cuts you off by pressing her own lips to yours. Her lips are rough, but she kisses you gently. Like she's worried about breaking you.

Natalie softly shuts the door and you pull her further into the room, never breaking the kiss. She's definitely sure of herself, and she easily takes control of your kiss. You make no moves to stop her, content to let this play out however she wants it to.

Eventually, you break the kiss in order to breathe, and she's looking at you like you're the most beautiful thing she's ever laid eyes on. You smile, and she returns it before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips yet again.

"I should get back to the knight's quarters."

Your face falls, and she gives you a half sympathetic look.

"I'll see you in the morning, Princess. I'm not leaving you forever." She grins, turning to leave. You grab her wrist to stop her, pleading with your eyes.

"Stay here with me tonight. That's an order."

"Princess Y/n. Your father-"

"Isn't here and won't be back for at least another couple of days. No one will find out, and even if someone did no one would tell my father. Stay here. Please."

Natalie seems to struggle internally for a moment before ultimately deciding that she does want to stay with you. She nods, and immediately you kiss her again.

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

The next morning, you wake up tangled in both Natalie and the plethora of blankets occupying your bed. For the first time in a very long time, you felt safe and content. You make no move to get up, feeling no need to move away from the warmth of the girl lying next to you.

Natalie appeared to still be asleep, her hair fanned out on the pillow she was lying on. She looked beautiful like that, vulnerable in a way that you'd never seen her before. You reach out to move a piece of her hair away from her face, and she smiles in her sleep.

After a few more moments of sleep, Natalie begins to stir awake.

"Good morning, Princess." Her voice is deep and groggy, and you swear your eyes are the shape of hearts. She rolls out of your bed and proceeds to get dressed in her clothes from the night before. You stay in your bed, knowing there's not really a need for you to get up. Lottie would be in to get you dressed, and Natalie didn't need help with her clothing.

When she finished dressing, she sat down next to you on the edge of the bed.

"I should really get back to the other knights. But I have a free hour this afternoon. I can find you then." She presses a kiss to your cheek, and you nod, smiling. Natalie smiles back before leaving your quarters, closing the door behind her.

You sit in silence, knowing Lottie won't be too long. Sure enough, only a few minutes after Natalie had left, Lottie opens the door to your room, carrying your dress for the day.

"Did I happen to see Natalie leaving just now?" She clearly knows the answer to that question, but she wants to give you the opportunity to tell her the truth.

"Yes." You don't offer her any more than that, and you can tell she wants to pry further. However, she knows that you aren't going to tell her anything unless you want to.

"Be careful, Princess."

"You have said that to me so many times that it's stopped having any sort of meaning." You stand up, walking over to where Lottie stands with your gown for today.

She sighs and begins to undress you. You know how Lottie feels about your breaking of the rules, but she knows she can't stop you. Not without alerting your father, at least, and she doesn't want to hurt you like that.

She finishes dressing you and gives you a look. One you know is telling you to be careful. You just scoff at her as she leaves.

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

The next few weeks are spent watching Natalie train during the day, and sneaking around with her at night. Neither of you are often free in the daytime, but all of your evenings are spent together. Your father assures you that Natalie will soon be done training and she will start guarding you around the clock. For now, though, you just have to deal with not seeing her all the time.

Your father has also started to speak to you about marriage. Every time he starts, you change the subject. But you know that the discussion of your marriage is inevitable. It's expected that you marry by eighteen, and that birthday had already came and went. Your father had been generous in letting you have another year. But your nineteenth birthday was approaching. You had to be married soon.

It was midafternoon, and you were wandering the palace grounds, waiting for Natalie to finish training. Suddenly, Lottie appeared beside you.

"Princess, your the king requests you in the throne room. He wants to discuss something with you." You know it's about marriage, and you know you can't avoid the discussion this time. You nod, following Lottie as she leads you back into the palace and into the room with your father.

"Y/n. I've found a suitable match for you. A prince the next kingdom over. He's quite handsome, from what I gather, and your marriage will be the perfect economic and militaristic move. His father and I have arranged the wedding already. The two of you will be married within the next year." He's firm, and you know there's no use in arguing. You're going to be married, and you're going to pretend to like it.

How were you going to tell Natalie?

"Thank you, Father. I understand. What must I do to prepare?"

"Dress fittings, of course, but that is the only thing that you must be directly involved in. Between both kingdoms, we have enough staff to plan the entire wedding. You'll be meeting your future husband in two weeks. Prepare yourself, and be on your best behavior."

"Of course, Father. I would never want to make a bad impression on the man I am to marry," you pause, meeting your father's eyes for the first time during this exchange, "May I be excused?"

"Yes. You are free to go."

You leave the room to immediately go find Natalie. She should be done with her training by now, and you need to tell her about this before she finds out from someone else.

As you round the corner, you almost run directly into Natalie. Her hair is mussed from training, and she's covered in sweat. Somehow, though, you still have to resist the urge to kiss her.

"Oh! Lovely, you're here. Walk with me, please, Natalie." You give her a look that she knows to mean that you really need to talk with her in private. She quickly obliges, holding out her arm for you to take. Immediately, you take it and she starts walking.

Once you're far enough away from the palace for anyone to be listening, she turns to you and gives an inquiring look.

"I'm getting married," you blurt, wanting to get the news off your chest as quickly as possible.

"What? When? When did you learn this?" She sounds completely angry, which you understand. You'd hate hearing this news if it was coming from her.

"Within the next year. My father didn't give me an exact date. But I know it to be soon. I just found out myself. You are the first I've told. In good news, as you are my personal guard, we won't be separated." You wring your hands as you speak, trying not to cry, hoping Natalie isn't angry with you.

"Why did you agree to this?" She's bewildered, and still clearly a bit angry. Of course.

"I do not have the sort of freedoms you do, Natalie. You can marry any man you want, or even choose not to marry. I, on the other hand, must marry whatever man my father chooses for me. I cannot simply say no, nor can I ask to see another option. This is my life. I apologize for hurting you, but there's nothing I can do." You look up at her, tears in your eyes. You don't want this to end.

When she sees you tear up, she immediately softens.

"No, love. I should apologize. I know that this isn't any fault of yours." She cups your face in her hands, and you can't help but smile. "What if we leave?" she asks, and she looks so hopeful.

"I can take you away from here. We can start a life in a village far from here, and we could be happy. You wouldn't have to marry, you wouldn't have to be a princess anymore."

You want to say yes immediately, but something holds you back. You have no idea how to live anywhere but a palace. You have no profitable skills, and neither does Natalie. There's also the high risk of being found out and being brought back to your father and being forced to marry anyway.

But then you look at Natalie, and she looks so hopeful, so confident that this can work, that you can't say no.

"When would we leave? Where would we go? How would we support ourselves?"

"We could leave tonight. I know when the guard changes, and we could sneak away when no one is looking. There was this beautiful little village I passed through when I was young, it's two kingdoms away and no one would know who you are. Y/n, I don't want to watch you marry that man. Please, please leave with me."

It doesn't take any more than that for you to nod, confirming that you will leave with her.

"Okay. I'll come get you tonight around the time that the guard changes. We'll take a horse, and you should gather as many valuables as you can to sell. Don't take anything that is too easily traceable, we don't want jewels to be the reason you're caught. The journey will take a few days, so I'll gather food from the cooks." She pauses, and you nod. "Now, listen. Wear something unassuming, and we must cut your hair once we get far enough away from the palace. You're very recognizable, and we want to limit that as much as possible."

You take all of this in, and nod again.

"Okay."

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

That night, you sit awaiting Natalie. You have only a small bag with you, filled with food and jewels. Nothing that doesn't already belong to you, of course. It feels wrong enough to take the jewelry that's rightfully yours.

There's also a couple sets of underclothes, which are the most unassuming thing you own. Everything else is too elaborate and heavy to even try to take with you. You were really going to miss some of those gowns. But this was more important. You'd rather have Natalie than silly dresses.

You didn't tell anyone you were leaving, not even Lottie. Part of you feels bad, but you know that she'd try to convince you to stay. Or she'd cave and tell your father, which you didn't want either. You did leave a note, detailing that you left and not to come looking for you. Although, it was unlikely that anyone would actually heed your instructions. Someone would assume that you were kidnapped and forced to write that note.

No matter. This plan was going to work. You were going to leave with Natalie, and the two of you would have a wonderful life together.

Soon, there was a sharp knock at your door. Natalie. It was time. You open the door to find her standing there, grinning wickedly.

"No one's at the posts now, and they shouldn't be for the next ten minutes. Let's go." She holds out her hand, and you take it.

Immediately, the two of you are racing through the corridors and down flights upon flights of stairs. You make it to the stables, and Natalie helps you get up onto a horse. Her horse, you assume.

She follows suit, sitting in front of you.

"Hold on, Princess." You grip her waist, and soon, the two of you are off. She's right, there aren't any guards in their towers, and it's easy to ride the horse across the castle grounds and into the woods.

The two of you ride in silence for a while, still at a gallop in an attempt to make it as far from the castle as possible while still under the cover of night. Neither of you wants to be caught, not when you've already made it this far.

You rest your head between Natalie's shoulder blades, and she laughs.

"Don't fall asleep on me, Princess."

"You shouldn't call me princess anymore, as I am not one."

She laughs again, and you smile.

"You're still a princess. But I understand. I won't call you princess any more, especially in public. We don't want to be found out."

You hum your assent, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence yet again.

"Thank you," you mumble, pressing a kiss to Natalie's shoulder.

She squeezes one of your hands, already knowing what you're thanking her for.

"Of course."

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #teen natalie #natalie x reader #natalie scatorccio x y/n #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x fem reader

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izvmimi · 1 year ago

Text

cw: slight angst. engagement mention. implied backstory - reader has a cursed technique, reader went to jujutsu high.

When Yuuta enters the french-style bistro café and you wave at him excitedly with both hands, the first thing his eyes are drawn to is the catching of light on the facets of your new engagement ring.

You notice this, too, and the thought of it makes you almost sheepish. Yuuta looks somewhat exhausted as always, dark circles a natural feature of his visage much like Kento’s harsh cheekbones or Megumi’s frown, but he smiles when he sees you, approaching quickly and taking a seat across from you.

You lean in, grinning. “I was worried you were going to ghost me!”

Yuuta offers you a soft smile. “I’ve never ghosted you, I’m just busy. I figure you know what that’s like once in a while?”

You frown, deciding that you’re not exactly a fan of the jab, although it’s something to expect in your catching up. You’re usually the one who starts the teasing, and it’s been in that arrangement since your days together at Jujutsu High, but over time as your relationship developed, Yuuta became far more adept at teasing you back, and you realized quickly that you’re not as great at accepting what you dished out.

“I can still be busy without fighting curses 24/7,” you whine. “You know I was never meant for this shit.”

Yuuta doesn’t reply, instead turning his attention to the waitress who now that you’re no longer effectively being stood up, comes by to provide glasses of water. Yuuta orders a coffee and a sandwich, and you splurge with a pasta dish.

“In the meantime, I guess I’ll just take all your missions,” he says flatly. You jut your lip out at him again.

“You’d think you’d actually be nice to me considering you haven’t seen me in person in six months, Yuuta-kun.”

Yuuta pauses, then tilts his head. He’s not exactly sure why he’s giving you such a hard time, but he won’t pretend any longer he doesn’t know why you called him out specifically. His eyes flash to the ring again. Your lips are still sealed but he can see the excitement practically on the tip of your tongue. Maki’s already told him over a week ago.

“Congratulations on your engagement, ___.”

You beam and thank him, and Yuuta remembers how quickly and easily you express your emotions, how fast you cry, how loud you laugh, and how bright the light in your eyes grows when you think of Yuuji.

“I didn’t expect it, actually,” you add. Yuuta laughs as warmth sets in your cheeks and you wrinkle your nose.

“Considering you threatened to kill me if I killed him back then, I’d hope that this would be the outcome.”

You blink, and the scene returns to your mind. Yuuta squashing the ladybug curse you’ve sent to spy on him; you in angry tears pleading for your new friend’s life, for the absolution of a kind boy who liked you just a little too earnestly from the very first glance. You’d told him that night that the higher ups would use Yuuta to execute not just Yuuji, but the three of you - you, Yuuta, Yuuji - the children whose executions were staved off by the same man, in one fell swoop. You’d told him he’d die too, even if you never developed the strength to become his executioner in turn.

“I still wish you had told me the truth,” you murmur. You’d said more than was right that night, thinking endlessly of whether or not your technique could really seal Rika if it came down to it, thinking of what it would be like to miss one of your best friends, but bygones are bygones.

“Probably should have.” Yuuta replies. His sandwich arrives and he thanks the waitress politely. You sprinkle black pepper heavily on your pasta before turning it on your fork. He bites into his sandwich and you watch him, slurping up your own noodles. Yuuta is quiet by nature, but this silence is heavily pregnant and makes you uncomfortable. The distance between you has grown, whether you like it or not.

You swallow your noodles and finally break the silence.

“Do you think I’m making a mistake, Yuuta-kun?” you ask, finally. Your voice is small now as if someone were to overhear you, enough that he just barely catches as he looks into his coffee mug, his reflection just barely visible on the surface of the drink. He looks up at you and forces his dark blue eyes to soften.

“Of course not.”

You breathe through your nose as your eyes meet his. “Is that all you think?”

Yuuta chews and swallows and holds your gaze.

“He loves you,” he replies, simply. You try to find a lie, a flicker of something repressed in his features, but find nothing. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but your heart stirs.

“I know,” you reply.

There’s another pause. Then your shoulders sink. You sigh and it’s light but Yuuta can tell when you’re trying not to cry.

“I don’t think my heart is a good enough match,” you finally admit. Yuuta knows exactly what you mean by this - he understands your penchant for negativity more than Yuuji does, he knows what it’s like to feel darkness, something Yuuji constantly fights against. Yuuta’s hand moves slowly and pats yours on the table. It’s gentle and kind, but not intimate. He’s lost that right by now, and probably for good reason.

“You’re the best thing that will ever happen to him, ___,” Yuuta reassures you.

After all, you’re one of the best people he’s ever known.

A tear makes it past your lash line and you laugh, embarrassed as you pull your hand back to wipe it away. Yuuta thinks about how your hand feels to hold for just a few moments longer. He hasn’t held your hand ever, he thinks, but he knows Yuuji has. Many times over.

“I can’t believe I dragged you out to complain about my engagement,” you shake your head and slurp up more pasta. “I’m not talking any more for the next ten minutes, so you better tell me everything about Fukuoka.”

“Kill count first or sightseeing?” Yuuta jokes, and it makes you laugh. He smiles too, and fiddles with the ring on his own finger. Rika’s ring, a binding vow.

He hopes Yuuji’s curse of love will be strong enough to protect you forever.

#yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuji x reader #daydreams: jjk #mimi's notes

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petvampire · 5 months ago

Note

i feel like waxplay and monty in whichever pairing or grouping or whatever is incredibly interesting (and ill admit i have been thinking about this for months already so when i saw it on the list i was like 👀)

bc when esther first transforms monty into a human one of the steps is that she pours candle wax into what i assume is his open chest cavity as part of the spell, so i imagine him exploring wax play could be a way for him to break through some of the remaining esther-related trauma he might have.

not sure if that angle is the vibe youre looking for but in any case, montwin (+ others? im not picky, you decide) and waxplay pleasee 😇

Um. Yes, thank you, I love this.

Also combining this with @iamafandomfreak ‘s GhostCrow blindfold + wax play request. <3

There are very few things Monty remembers about the actual process of being made human the first time. The mind tends to block such things out; he remembers the pain, the panic, but he can’t recall each and every step Esther took to rip his crow body to shreds and build him a new one. That’s a good thing, since if he’d been acutely aware of every part of the spell, he probably would have gone crazy.

It does mean that odd things will trigger flashes of memory, though. Things like the flicker of a candle flame, a trail of wax along the side of a taper making him flinch as his mind flashes back. Searing wax, poured into his open ribs, burning along the inside of his chest. He feels it again for a moment, too vividly.

Charles is the first one to notice his reaction. They’re out at some nice restaurant, he and the girls seated at the table, the lit candles in the center dragging his focus away from whatever Niko was animatedly talking about moments ago. He sucks in a sharp breath, and the ghost lays his hands on his shoulders, brows furrowed in concern. “You all right, mate?”

Monty just shakes his head.

He manages to pull himself back together enough to enjoy the evening, at least on the surface. That flash of memory lingers, though, and when they finally get back to the office, he’s quick to tuck himself into the comforting embrace Charles offers, burying his face against the other’s chest. It’s been a while since he’s gotten so spooked out of nowhere, and all of them are clearly worried.

He explains in as few words as he can, and the outpouring of sympathy from the others soothes his ruffled feathers. Charles runs a hand along his spine, Edwin’s fingers smooth through his hair, and Monty eases back from that momentary fear. By the end of the night, he’s more or less back to normal, ready to just put it behind him. He can just avoid candles if they’re going to freak him out, after all. It’s not like he’s really the candlelight type.

He should know better by now. There’s a thoughtful look in Edwin’s eyes as he bids the crow good night, the look he gets when he’s chewing over a problem, sorting out the best possible solution. Monty should remember that Edwin is not longer willing to let such things pass; they’re all trying to heal from the wounds their pasts have dealt them, and the ghost is quite good at coming up with… unorthodox ways to confront such memories.

So really, he should have known.

It’s a unique sort of exposure therapy, to be sure.

Monty is sprawled out naked on his back on Edwin’s bed, a little tense despite the fact that this is hardly unfamiliar. His eyes are covered by a silk blindfold, with the ghost��s reasoning being that his unpleasant memory was stirred by a sight last time. It makes sense, but the crow is still uneasy even without being able to see. He can smell the hint of smoke on the air, knows there are candles burning within reach.

“You sure you’re all right?” Charles’ voice is soft, close, and a little worried still. He agreed to this plan, just as Monty did, because a lot of the time Edwin is adept at figuring out how to break through ugly memories, to replace them with far more pleasant sensations. They both trust him, even if occasionally his genius seems like madness.

The crow nods, trying to convince himself that he can relax. He knows he’s safe with these two, knows Edwin and Charles would never hurt him. They’re not about to tear him apart and remake him, even if they could. “Yeah. Just… do it.” The longer he waits for the inevitable, the more nervous he’ll get, until nerves turn to fear, then to panic.

A hand runs along his chest, and Monty recognizes Edwin’s touch, tenses slightly under it. Despite that momentary flicker of fear that goes through him, the first drips of wax don’t hit the skin of his chest, don’t make him feel like his heart is being wrenched out into the open and coated in liquid agony. Instead, the wax is a dribble of heat along his right bicep, and he jumps, a little squeak of surprise escaping him.

He can’t help but laugh after a moment at his own foolishness, at the sound. It doesn’t even hurt, not really. It’s a weird sensation, but it’s not what he was expecting, not what he had built it up to be in his mind.

“Monty?” Edwin’s voice is careful, and the crow swallows his laughter, though he can’t keep the relieved smile off his lips.

“Fine, I’m… fine. Just not expecting it.” He can almost feel the ghost smirking above him, radiating a sense of faint smugness. Edwin does love to be right.

“I assume you’re better prepared now.” Another stream of wax is dripped along his hip, his thigh, and though Monty doesn’t jolt this time, he does shiver under the sensation of it. With the blindfold, he can relax fully into just feeling. It’s suddenly a lot less intimidating, a lot more freeing.

Charles gets in on the act, and between the two of them, Monty feels like he’s being turned into some kind of waxy art project. The heat on his skin builds and fades by turns, trails of wax drawn across his arms and legs, his stomach, still carefully avoiding his chest. He knows that won’t last forever; it would defeat the purpose of tackling this fear this way.

Still, he finds himself surprised when the wax finally does hit just above his heart, a shock of heat that makes him jerk. At the same time, a pair of warm lips descend on his, soothing him, distracting him. Edwin kisses him slowly, thoroughly, even as more of that wax is trailed in patterns over his chest. Under the pressure of that kiss, it’s hard to be afraid.

He has nothing to be afraid of. Cool fingertips trace the patterns of the wax on his skin, the touches familiar where the trails of heat along his flesh aren’t. He can relax into them, and know he’s purely, completely safe.

He feels his old, visceral fear coalescing in his heart into something he can let go, something he can be free of. Monty breathes in, and releases it, lets the memory fade.

It won’t completely erase his memories of Esther, of being torn apart, remade. But it’s a start.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #monty the crow #monty finch #edwin payne #charles rowland #ghostcrow #pv answers #pv writes #fanfic #charles x monty x edwin

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rxttenfish · 20 days ago

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have yuo ever thought about what if aaravi was a merfolk? i think she would be badass.. ((not that she isnt already))

i have, actually! ironically i've even drawn her as a merfolk before, albeit. it's very, very old art... when i was still giving merfolk hair even! this puts it around 3-4 years old, though i did get minorly obsessed with this as an AU when i did.

there's really no way to translate aaravi into a merfolk without making her some variety of low royal bastard. it's technically true with her dad as-is — while it's not nearly the kind of thing that has actual power and weight behind it, he would be considered somewhere in the general realm of courtly nobility for fae (whatever that means for fae, i haven't fully figured it out myself) and this is something that does have a minor influence on aaravi herself. it's far from the only thing giving her issues with authority and especially with nobility, but it certainly doesn't help either.

in this case, aaravi would be considered a hybrid between an abyssal merfolk and a pacific-migratory merfolk. in terms of physical appearance, this is what gives her the reddish-gold coloration. effectively, she got the abyssal pigmentation for red and pink, but with a major diluting effect from the silvery-blue pacific-migratory side, with her patterns and patterning showing up from that side of her genetics. if you swapped out the red pigment for blue here, she'd look a lot closer to a pacific-migratory, and the yellow pigment shows up in both. she has a mild case of gigantism, hence the latter picture here — ironically, she'd be larger than miranda, when it should be the other way around, because miranda's growth was stunted at a young age. otherwise, most of her body shape is closer to a pacific-migratory, with a longer, narrower skull than a full abyssal, and thus is not quite as adept at bone-crushing as someone like miranda.

(miranda should likewise probably be considered partially hybridized herself... but honestly no part of the abyssal population should be considered "full abyssal" anymore either. miranda is pretty close to what a full abyssal should be like, due to various gene treatments involved in her conception, and due to the reigning king being considered just abyssal enough to count, despite the outcrossing in his background — but these are the strains of a population that's wedged itself deeper and deeper into fatal inbreeding and the attempts to both fix that as well as desperately not being willing to let it go. miranda's family tree is a wreathe, to put it lightly.)

in terms of what this means socially: pacific-migratory merfolk are the most common type of merfolk in the capital city and the surrounding area, but they're also pretty widespread in general, being the majority population in things like the great nomadic families and their communities. the organized whale hunts come from these, and they're still the most common merfolk to see involved with them, both serving a spiritual function and managing the whale populations, while also providing whale meat for the rest of the population. they're considered in the realm of middle royals by default within the kingdom, though not all in these communities are, and i see aaravi's mom as having come from one of these groups, not being a middle royal nor a part of that group herself, but in an esteemed position as a whale-hunter.

aaravi's dad, then, would have to come from one of the low royals — not considered part of the royal family itself and thus not a part of the ruling line, but part of the periphery of that, the other Big-Fucking-Deal families surrounding and supporting that rule, those who are inside of the royal courts and those who both marry into the royal family and who get the non-inheriting royal family members when they undoubtedly have to do something else besides wait in the wings. whether or not he was an inheriting member of his family line or not... well, i don't know! it'd matter a lot more if he was, and aaravi's existence would be even more strictly punished if it came out, but there's really no way for her to exist at all without it being something that would cause major issues in the line of inheritance and disgrace for the family lines involved.

royals don't like bastards. i've mentioned this before, but it still rings true. as much as they like to sleep around and reap the rewards of their position and what it allows them to get away with, the family lines themselves originate from miivt'ia groups that only allowed other merfolk to join them if they were born into them, and long-term agreements in the form of "marriages" between them and other groups were used to form political agreements between those groups and ensure those agreements were being held, while also guaranteeing that some members of their family line were being allowed to join another's, thus enabling them to move up. having kids outside of this system starts to pull it into question: should aaravi be considered a part of this family line? what about the fact that she was raised outside of it, by someone else, and thus doesn't meet criteria for an effective member? does this weaken or call into question current agreements between those who have married into this line and the family lines they come from? has the royal in question behaved improperly, by weakening this family line and the responsibilities they should be held to?

royals do not like answering any of these questions. not only does it provide a major weakness for themselves and their own position to be called into question and potentially face consequences for opening their family line up to such doubts, but now the family line itself is in jeopardy, as other royals tangentially or even uninvolved with the creation of a bastard can use it as leverage to further their own goals and agendas. the discovery of a bastard can easily prove to be the last straw in making a complicated web of political maneuvering fail and a family line to be destroyed, so royals are quite invested in making sure no bastards in their line come to exist, destroying any bastards they do find before anyone else can discover them, and discovering the bastards of other families to use as leverage against them.

unfortunately, royals do sleep around a lot. they're merfolk. monogamy isn't really a thing they tend to do, and they're already biased towards multiple partners in a short period of time and a low barrier to having sex at all to encourage community-building and to remove tensions. they're also royals, so they're seldom at want for a lack of partners either, and royals having sex in ways that doesn't weaken their family line isn't really discouraged beyond cases of obligate birth control. it's why miranda being considered a virgin matters — she doesn't have kids and she's never been involved in one of these political "marriages". it doesn't matter if she's had sex before, it's even encouraged due to the political implications of her "performing well", so long as these two criteria are met. as much as it pains the royals, bastards are a lot more common than any of them insist.

so! about that destroying!

when i say royals are determined to destroy any of their bastards they find, i mean that involves killing them as quickly and as quietly as possible. this nearly always means also killing the non-royal communities they were born into, as group parenting occurs not only within the miivt'ia but the miivt'ia adjacent to them, and anyone who might have ever known about the bastard and their birth. information about a dead bastard is nearly as valuable as the bastard themselves, and so royals want a clean slate, to ensure absolutely nothing gets out that this ever happened.

bastards still do occur, of course, and they can even fly under the radar, but the issue then starts to form in the communities they're a part of, and the non-royal part of their inheritance. this salted-earth approach to the finding of any bastard at all puts them in direct danger as well, not least of all because if they knew, they could be considered to be either helping the bastard and working against the royal and the throne at large. although your average merfolk is a lot less... enthusiastic about the royals than the royals themselves would have you believe, this is still the kind of thing that puts them at risk, and thus the kind of thing they very seldom view positively either. they're just as much at risk of entirely shunning any bastard that they find and cutting all contact, pretending they do not exist and never existed, or just outright revealing their existence to the royal in question, in a bid to try and save themselves and limit damage.

it's not a great position to be in! aaravi could have flown under the radar as a grouper-hybrid instead, as grouper merfolk are the closest other species to abyssals and share most of the physical traits of them, that red-gold-pink coloration would absolutely betray her as an abyssal hybrid instead. i never designed salil, but i imagine he would have even more noticeable "tells" as well (though i also never fully worked out what salil's existence would mean in this AU).

hence, while aaravi could get away with repeatedly obscuring and "dyeing" the color of her scales, salil would need more than that, and from the moment they were born, there was no way their mom didn't know exactly what happened and exactly what was at risk. in this AU, i can only imagine she began to isolate even harder than she did as a human and a slayer, being even more insistent that absolutely no one should see either of them without limiting as much contact as possible, and that she's the only one of them who is allowed to meet and talk to other merfolk. while this wouldn't be enough to kill a merfolk from loneliness, it WOULD still have a major impact on their health and very nearly kill them, so aaravi's mom dying of an illness likewise checks out.

it depends from there — ironically i imagine the two siblings going their separate ways from a disagreement in what they should do. aaravi would be more of the type to insist that they can only trust each other and only look after each other, that salil cannot be allowed to be seen by other merfolk without everything falling apart, and wanting to stay together with him in a similar, isolated manner. salil would be more likely to insist on separating, so that if one of them is found out, it'll be harder to find the other, and having safety in being able to each obscure themselves, likely finding the way both his mother and aaravi treated him to be uniquely isolating and punishing and, perhaps, wanting to try his luck elsewhere than to continue to be treated as untouchable. aaravi wouldn't be able to do much to stop salil from leaving, if he feels like she's not listening to him and deciding to go his own way regardless, and she would have to do something to ensure she's not left completely alone in the world, a death sentence for a merfolk.

where her interactions with miranda start varies from this point... aaravi probably would similarly join a group of merfolk living outside of the law, obscuring her identity and her history and her bastard status as much as possible, and it's not unlikely that said community of merfolk might be mercenaries or similar, as she would have fairly applicable talents and they would be more willing to look the other way or not ask questions. miranda does have more dealings with mercenary groups within the merkingdom than she will EVER talk about, and it's possible that they start to interact from here, though again, it varies and i'm less solid on this.

miranda's position in turn, if or when she figures out aaravi's an abyssal hybrid and thus can only be a royal bastard, would be... well. like i said. royals keep making bastards for a reason. being able to bond with anyone outside of the bounds of their title would be tempting enough for anyone, and especially enough to not consider or not care very much about the position that they're putting the other party in. royals also just tend to like "that which they aren't allowed to have", the same as anyone. and miranda, as much as she is normally and as much as she would be in this AU, really would just have a Thing for bastards. they're just her type and they just hit her brain in exactly the right way to make her obsess, and she wouldn't be able to deny that she finds them deeply attractive. she would never admit this, not even to herself, but yeah, the moment this comes out she would start getting the hots for aaravi really bad.

and, honestly, they could likely use this to their advantage? like i said, other royals DO have an investment in finding the royals of other lineages and using them in political maneuvering, and it's pretty hard to get any better than the Crown Princess Herself discovering the bastard of a lesser low royal and deciding to keep her around. it would likewise provide a safer position for aaravi, because, again, Crown Princess Herself, and who is going to challenge her rulings or how she wants to toss around her power? especially since miranda is considered special for multiple reasons inside her title, reasons which aaravi could very much use to her advantage on top of being half abyssal herself.

as for where the rest of this goes, who knows! i never fully developed this AU, and although i do still continually return to it, it's never solidified in my mind as one thing or the other.

#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#asks #felismiscellaneous #miravi.txt #aaravi mishra #monster prom #yeah sure this gets the main tag #enjoy some really long discussion on the aaravi merfolk au #the art is SO old please dont judge it #assuredly this plan will work Not As Well as either of the two think it will. but like. its better than most they have!#dont we all love as i tell on miranda. having the hots for exactly the kinda people she says she hates.#theres a reason shes a reverse monsterfucker. she sees a ''do not touch'' sign and immediately has GOTTA touch.#this also applies to normal aaravi. although miranda will never admit it.#the universal love of bringing home someone your parents would ABSOLUTELY not approve of.

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universallychaoticpan · 2 years ago

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Can u do the stages of Dazai and Reader's relationship through Kunikida's POV like from enemy/strangers to friendship to lovers♥️

This had been on my had for days and maybe you might like this idea. Imma write this down before I go to sleep bc I'm tired af😭.

You have no idea how much I loved writing this, it was so fun. Ugh I absolutely love it!! Sorry it's taken so long so get it out, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Come back anytime. <33

I suggest listening to lovers rock by tv girl to set a nice little mood <3

(reader is gn)

Fukuzawa hadn't lied at all; you were a perfect addition to the agency. Even after just meeting you, Kunikida could tell: smart, accomplished, adept at combat, extensive knowledge in both weapons and hand to hand combat, plus a near deadly control over your ability- you were a dream. You were hardworking and on top of it all, shockingly, amazingly, seemingly immune to Osamu Dazai.

Now, you didn't dislike the man. You just weren't one to fawn over him or giggle like a schoolgirl any time he winked at you. You never really understood the girls who would fall all over themselves when he flirted with them, plus, since he flirted with anyone what was the point in giving in? To him, there were a million people like you; you were just another pretty face to him. So you made it your mission to never fall for his charms.

Unfortunately for Kunikida, neither of you quite understood how stubborn you both could be.

After three months, you found you liked him more than you thought. He made you laugh, with his stupid jokes and his antics. You found you liked being his friend. You would go out drinking with him, he would embarrass you in public until you shrieked with laughter, face burning red with your blush. He would make up nonsense songs to make you laugh and you would foil his attempts at flirting with yet another waitress each time you ate together. Quickly, you found yourself calling him your best friend- something that horrified Kunikida in quite a funny manner.

And after six months, Dazai realized something terrible- something awful, sweet, lovely and terrifying all at once. Osamu Dazai realized he was falling for you. He was falling faster than he could save himself, faster than he could stop it; he was falling for his best friend with the stunning smile, the sharp wit that would bite him playfully if he got to close, the pretty laugh and those eyes that melted him from the inside out.

Worst of all, he knew you would never believe him if he told you.

But Kunikida saw it all. He saw how Dazai's eyes would soften ever so slightly when you would walk in, how he would try to be close to you, how he would volunteer to do the most mundane tasks as long as it meant doing them with you. He saw the new way his lip would curl gently at the edges when he smiles at you, a smile different than his usual rakish grin. And god was it painful to watch. He nearly felt bad for the man, and he would if it wasn't so funny to watch. Kunikida wouldn't deny it was just the slightest bit entertaining to observe you.

Nearly a year had gone by since you had first met; nearly a year since you had promised yourself to never fall for him. Nearly a year since he had met you, clueless to the fact that you would change his life without even trying. And everyone could tell it was driving him mad; everyone, or so it seemed, except for you. A fact that Kunikida doubted to the extremes.

"They probably have figured it out by now," he muttered, sipping his drink as a moan sounded from Dazai. "They're quite intelligent, you know. Perceptive, too."

"Shut up," Dazai muttered, lifting his head from off the bar. "Don't tell me that like I don't already know it."

Kunikida shrugged. "Just checking. But in any case, what are you going to do about it?"

"That's just it," Dazai groaned. "Whatever I do, they won't believe it's real; they'll think I just want a fling or a one night stand and it would kill me to loose them over something so stupid."

"Well you'd best figure it out soon," Kunikida observed. "Time waits for no man."

And it hurt knowing he was right. It hurt Dazai, a dull throb forming in his chest because it was true; no one waited forever. No opportunity stayed open for long. So he shook Kunikida's hand, walked out of the bar, and turned for the direction of your apartment.

"Good luck, you lovestruck bastard."

You were alone when the knock at the door came; alone, your pajama pants sitting deliciously on your skin, a glass on wine barely held between your fingers. You felt the buzz of the stuff, warm and sweet, spreading through your body as you walked over the door, and opened it.

Revealing your best friend, panting with cheeks brushed pink from the night air. He ran a hand through his messy dark hair and you cocked your head slightly, your lips quirking up into a curious smile.

Oh that smile-

"What's the occasion for this lovely visit?"

He swallows hard, hands fiddling nervously as he tries to decide whether to move closer or not. But you choose for him, resting a hand on his shoulder, stepping so close your have to look up slightly for your concerned eyes to meet his.

"are you alright? Dazai, what's happened, is everything ok?-"

"Do you trust me?"

"What kind of question is that, of course I-"

"No. Do you trust me."

You looked into those eyes, and-

oh.

"Of course I do," you whispered.

And those were the last words you uttered before his hand lifted your face to his and his lips shaped themselves perfectly against yours. That was all you had to say before he stole the breath from your lungs with that kiss, a sigh leaving you so sweetly it made him fall for you again, more and more- he would devote himself to memorizing every sound that fell from your lips, give you every second if his life if that's what it took, as long as you promised to never take your touch away from him.

You smiled when you pulled away, lips still parted, laughing ever so slightly as you pulled him inside by the hand.

And when you walked into the office together the next morning, chatting and smiling like always, most people wouldn't have batted an eye.

But Doppo Kunikida wasn't most people. And even he had to indulge himself in smirking in the way Dazai followed at your heels like a puppy. Because even though you were not the first to fall for his charms...

you were the first to get him to fall for yours.

#dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x gn reader

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don-dake · 2 years ago

Text

So I've been playing around with Cāngjié…

And I thought a post like this (similar to a post on Zhùyīn done by linghxr) may be of interest to some.

Edited: 10 Sep 2023

This post has gotten a little popular lately and on scrutinizing my own post again, I've come to the conclusion that I had made some mistakes in my given character examples.

Amended now. Namely, 「唔」 and 「龍」 have now been swapped over in the examples.

「唔」 is really the “3-parts”, and 「龍」 is indeed a “2-parts” character! Amendments are reflected in orange.

What (and who) is Cāngjié?

For those who may not know, Cāngjié is another way to input 漢字/汉字 (Hànzì — Chinese characters). It is way less popular than Pinyin (or even Zhuyin) but it still has its fans, and has a few advantages over the other two.

Cāngjié is also the name of the mythical figure in Chinese legend who is said to have been the inventor of 漢字/汉字, for which Cāngjié (the input system) was named after.

Would I recommend it?

Yes, if you think you have already acquired a good (enough) understanding of 漢字/汉字, and/or just like a new challenge.

(TL;DR at the end)

Why am I learning Cāngjié (and why you may like to, too)?

1. Mostly for fun.

Have long been intrigued by both Cāngjié and Zhùyīn, and since I finally mustered up the courage to tackle Zhùyīn not too long ago, I thought I'd finally give Cāngjié a try.

While learning Cāngjié does require more effort than learning Pinyin or Zhuyin, it can also be really fun! Inputting 漢字/汉字 with the Cāngjié method is almost like doing a jigsaw puzzle.

The euphoria derived from figuring out and piecing together the radicals that make up a word is something that learning Jyutping (Cantonese equivalent of Pinyin), Pinyin or Zhuyin can't quite match.

And while I know I'll never be as adept with Cāngjié — my knowledge of 漢字/汉字 is nowhere near good enough to ever use Cāngjié efficiently — as I do Jyutping or Pinyin (or to some extent, Zhuyin), it'll still be fun to use Cāngjié every once in a while!

2. Helps with thinking and typing in Chinese.

The upshot of relying too much on using Jyutping/Pinyin/Zhuyin is, I'd tend to think in Roman letters or ㄅㄆㄇㄈ before I'd even think about the actual 漢字/汉字.

But with Cāngjié, because it's based on knowing radicals and joining them together to form actual characters, it'll encourage thinking of 漢字/汉字 first, so I think that would help some with 漢字/汉字 memory retention.

Now you may be thinking, why not just you know, practise actually writing then? That is the tried and proven method to better remember 漢字/汉字 after all?

Yes, of course I can do that — and am doing so occasionally — but we live in a digital age now, and the probability and opportunity to type things out is much higher than actually writing stuff by hand.

The idea here is, more looking to think of and envision characters fully in my head, and trying to lessen over-reliance on Jyutping/Pinyin/Zhuyin.

And this is where I find Cāngjié can be useful, which leads to my next point…

3. Haunted by “What if” scenario.

What if there comes a day (however improbable) where I'm presented with only a Cāngjié keyboard to use for typing Chinese? It has happened with Zhùyīn for me!

That means, no Pinyin or Zhuyin keyboards, no Handwriting tools/touchscreens to write with fingers/mouse, no speech-to-text, and no option to copy-and-paste characters from somewhere else either! What then?

4. Able to type without knowing pronunciation, and with more accuracy.

Cāngjié is shape-based. Unlike Jyutping/Pinyin/Zhuyin, where you have to know what a character sounds like before you can type it out, with Cāngjié, you can type out (again assuming no Handwriting or other tools available) characters without needing to know how to pronounce them at all.

With shape-based typing, you'd also get more accurate hits in the first few 漢字/汉字 that show up, versus sound-based methods like Pinyin where for e.g., typing out “wan” will get you a whole list under the same sound and you may have to scroll through a whole lot to get the exact “wan” you need.

You can also type both Traditional and Simplified characters without having to toggle something or switch keyboards.

So how does one begin learning Cāngjié?

Install a Cāngjié keyboard.

Duh…but of course! Heh! Gboard offers one, banded under Cantonese language input (Android user here, don't know about iPhones, sorry).

There are two versions of Cāngjié that are prevalent currently. Cāngjié 3 and Cāngjié 5. Cāngjié 5 is supposed to be an improvement over version 3 but I don't find there's much; having a slightly altered version just adds to the confusion and unnecessarily complicates matters, in fact!

If you have a choice, I'd recommend selecting Cāngjié 3 as that is more supported. Some operating systems may not be too compatible with Cāngjié 5 still, for some strange reason.

You may also come across something called “Quick” (速成) aka, “Simplified Cāngjié”.

This is simply a scaled down version of Cāngjié, it's still based on Cāngjié's formula. So you still need to know how Cāngjié works in order to use “Quick” efficiently.

You'd then need a chart like this. ↓

* the 重 (Z) key doesn't really come into use. I don't really know what it's for, but it seems to be used (paired with other keystrokes) mainly to type out various punctuation marks.

There are variants out there, some having a little more, or less, radicals shown than in the above example, but I'll say the chart here is one of the more comprehensive ones I've found so far (and sufficient enough) — other charts often fail to highlight the 難 (X) key and what it corresponds to.

You don't have to memorize the chart all at once. Just always have a chart like this on hand to refer to and with enough typing practise, you'll eventually remember which key corresponds with which radicals.

Remember the rules. ↓

“1 part” character (e.g. 寫) = first 3 & last (radical).

“2 parts” character (e.g. 唔龍) = first & last, first 2 & last.

“3 parts” character (e.g. 難) = first & last, first & last, last.

e.g. 寫 ↓

With radicals 宀，丿，臼 (first 3) and 灬 (last).

Corresponding keys: 十，竹，難 and 火。

寫 → 写 ↓

With radicals 冖，卜，㇆ (first 3)，一 (last).

Corresponding keys：月，卜，尸 and 一。

e.g. 龍 ↓

With radicals 亠，月 (first & last), 卜，コ (first 2)，ヒ (last).

Corresponding keys: 卜，月，卜，尸，and 心。

龍 → 龙 ↓ (Simplified 龍 → 龙，a “1 part” character)

With radicals 丶，ナ，ヒ (first 3).

Corresponding keys: 戈，大，and 心。

e.g. 難 ↓

With radicals 廿，人 (first & last)，亻(first & last)，土 (last).

Corresponding keys: 廿，人，人 and 土。

難 → 难 ↓

With radicals ヌ (first & last)，亻(first & last)，土 (last).

Corresponding keys: 水，人，and 土。

Occasionally, you may get a character that looks like a “2 parts” but is actually a “3 parts”. ↓

e.g. 唔 ↓

With radicals 口 (first & last)，一，一 (first & last)，口 (last).

Corresponding keys: 口，一，一 and 口。

Or looks like a “1 part” but really a “3 parts”. ↓

e.g. 奪 ↓

With radicals 大 (first & last)，亻，土 (first & last)，丶 (last).

Corresponding keys: 大，人，土，and 戈。

奪 → 夺 ↓(Simplified 奪 → 夺，a “1 part” character)

With radicals 大，寸 (first 3; the 丶 is the 3rd component).

Corresponding keys: 大，木，and 戈。

But these are exceptions, and don't occur that often.

And you can start practising!

You can try out this pretty good app called 『五色學倉頡』 (learning Cāngjié with 5 colours), for practise. It's on Playstore, just search for “Cangjie Dictionary” and it should show up.

You have to pay to unlock higher levels, unfortunately. ↓

Anyway, each character comes with colour coded hints and you can opt to turn them off if you like more of a challenge. There are also hints (提示) and the chart (字根表) to refer to if you're really stuck. Also has a dictionary component (查字典) to check out the Cāngjié input for characters.

Another option would be a website called HKCards. ↓

You can use it to check the Cāngjié input for any 漢字/汉字, and there's section for practise (倉頡輸入法練習) as well. After inputting your answer with Cāngjié keys (手田水口廿卜), you can click on the “Answer” (答案) button to see how right or wrong your answers were. ↓

There are 8 characters each time, and you can just hit “Practise Again” (再做練習) to refresh for another 8 to practise with. I've yet to hit a limit.

Unfortunately, this website has lots of ads popping up. And it only supports searching in Traditional characters (Cāngjié was initially catered more for Traditional).

Or you can just try practising randomly with a Cāngjié keyboard and check for mistakes with a Cāngjié dictionary (『五色學倉頡』 app's dictionary comes in really useful here — it appears to support searching in Simplified too).

TL;DR

Cāngjié could be useful (and fun) to know if your 漢字/汉字 knowledge is already adequate, and/or you just like a new challenge.

And if watching videos is more your thing, here's a really helpful YouTube tutorial on how to use Cāngjié (has English subs)!

#Cangjie #Congkit #Cantonese #Mandarin #Jyutping #Pinyin #Zhuyin #Bopomofo #Traditional Characters #Chinese Language #Language #Long Post #Dake Rambles

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aspiringtrashpanda · 3 months ago

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Raphael's HDD 2024 message about cheering for Levi because "he's a good guy" lives rent free in my head. Find the prompt list HERE.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

DAY 25 Prompt: Raphael Back in the good ol' Celestial Realm days... 1.8k

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Raphael loomed over Belphegor’s frame, still swaddled in his bed sheets. Despite the soft snoring spilling from parted lips, gently lifting midnight blue strands from his face, Raphael knew Belphie was awake. It was the depth of his breathing. Each inhale was too swift after an exaggerated exhale.

But Belphie didn’t answer.

His frown still firmly in place, Raphael rounded the empty bed that Belphie’s twin had already successfully left, approached the large bay window and threw open the heavy curtains. Sunlight bathed the bedroom, illuminating particles of dust disturbed by the flourish of the material. Raphael sighed. Belphie probably left the curtains closed at all times.

Though the sun never set in the Celestial Realm, its intensity varied throughout the day. Currently lingering on the eastern horizon, the air remained fresh and crisp, yet to be baked by the sun’s rays. By midday, Raphael was certain it would be a particularly warm day. That did not bode well for his mission. Drowsiness was often exacerbated by heat.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed that Belphie had failed to move, still feigning the sleep he craved so deeply.

“I know you’re awake,” Raphael asserted, his index finger prodding the other angel’s shoulder.

There was no reaction.

Raphael poked him again.

“Why…” Belphie groused, finally rolling over. Only, he rolled towards Raphael, who stepped back just in time for the former to tumble onto the ground, wrapped up in his blanket.

It put Raphael in an awkward position. What was he supposed to do now? One would think that he would be adept at waking Belphegor by now. Sure, it wasn’t often tasked to him, but in a couple hundred centuries, give or take, he thought he’d figure out the trick.

But Belphie was clever, and that didn’t bode well for Raphael. Every time Raphael adjusted to his strategy, Belphie would switch things up. Like now, when he laid in a lump at Raphael’s feet.

“Michael has asked that you clean the music room.” He tried, using his foot to nudge the mound of fabric and…Belphie? It was all warm and squishy and Raphael quickly removed his foot in fear that his fellow angel had actually become one with the bedding.

Another length of silence.

“Very well,” Raphael pulled out his trump card, “I’ll go see that Lucifer is put to the task instead.”

Much to Raphael’s amusement (not that you could tell by his straight-lipped expression), Belphie scrambled to his feet, shedding the blankets in record time. To give him some privacy, Raphael slipped out of the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him. He nodded in greeting to Simeon as the other seraph passed down the hall, all bright smiles and a spring in his step.

“This is too much work,” Belphie grumbled as he wiped down each key of the grand piano with more care than his tone would imply. “Why am I doing this?”

“Because Michael asked you to.”

“Care to help?” Belphie’s huff was just enough to draw Raphael’s attention. Michael’s schedule stared up at him from the notebook in his hands, promising a challenge to organize. His face a placid facade, the gears in his brain whirred to life. He loved a puzzle–as long as it wasn’t for the sake of fun.

“I’ve completed my cleaning for the day,” He answered, already penciling in appointments for the next day. Oh–there was a conflict later in the week. He’d have to fix that.

Middle C rang out through the chamber, the note bouncing from the stained glass windows to the high, arched ceiling. When Raphael glanced up from the agenda, Belphie was pointedly pressing down on the piano key. For a moment he wondered why he failed to lift the finger from the note, but then, he realized that Belphie’s eyes had fluttered shut.

“Belphegor,” He chided, “You aren’t done with your task yet.”

Groaning, Belphie slumped over the keys, a cacophony of dissonant notes ringing throughout the room. Raphael glanced over to the harp and other instruments nearby, mildly concerned that such an ugly chord would snap a string or two.

“It’s still so early,” Belphie whined, and Raphael was immediately reminded why he was assigned to supervising the sleepiest angel: Belphie didn’t like to take no for an answer. “Can’t I have a quick nap?”

“No.”

Pursing his lips, Belphie attempted to bargain. “What if I finish cleaning? Can I nap then?”

Raphael was prepared for that. “No, then we move on to the records room. Michael would like you to sort the newest files there.”

Belphie grumbled, and Raphael wasn’t quite sure when he’d missed the former shifting to turn the piano bench into a bed. He was on his back, knees bent at the edge of his makeshift cot. Raphael didn’t miss the spark of interest in Belphegor’s eyes as he stared up at the decorative chandelier above. It was fashioned to resemble a galaxy, spiraling jewels sparkling in the eternal sunshine of the Celestial realm.

“You should be honored,” Raphael pocketed the notebook for the time being, dedicating his time to convincing Belphegor to return to his feet. Strange, how Belphie was technically older than him. He certainly didn’t act like it. As Raphael frowned down at Belphie’s smug smirk, violet eyes screaming “try me”, he rose to the challenge. “Michael is trusting you with his day to day business. If you want to prove your potential as a seraph, you would do well to complete his request in a timely manner.”

Belphie curled his lip, a soft scowl preceding the slow blink that churned Raphael’s gut. Not again. He still had his trump card up his sleeve. “Perhaps my rain of spears would motivate you.”

Belphegor thought for a moment, and though his lashes remained brushing his high cheekbones, the rest of his frame stiffened.

“Hey Raphael,” Belphie broke the silence after he had finished cleaning the piano and had moved on to the ornate harp positioned in the window. “Won’t you sing for me?”

“You want me to sing for you?” Raphael would say he was surprised, but he supposed it wasn’t the first time he had received such a request.

“You’ve got a nice voice. It would help me clean, I’m sure.”

The praise warmed Raphael’s heart. Only a little, as there was something glimmering in Belphie’s clever eyes. He was plotting something. This was a trap. Feigning absolute indifference, Raphael let him down easily. “I don’t have any accompaniment.”

The challenge hardened Belphie’s stare. A resolute nod, the gesture of an index finger indicting patience, and Belphie was gone. Unfazed, Raphael returned to his notebook, balancing Michael’s appointments. If Belphie wasn’t back in five minutes, he’d summon his spears to hunt down the lazy angel.

Thankfully (or unfortunately?) that wasn’t necessary, as Belphie did return. Though this time, he dragged a flailing Leviathan behind him. With a frankly concerning amount of strength, Belphie sat the army general down on the piano bench with a sharp, “Levi, play the piano so Raphael can sing.”

Raphael turned his unreadable gaze onto Leviathan. The older angel shrunk under his stare, though Raphael didn’t quite understand why. He had always admired Leviathan. He did what you asked of him, and quietly kept to himself, more often than not.

If Raphael was being honest, he thought Leviathan should have more confidence. He carried a lot of skill in his hands. For example, Levi balked at Belphie’s request, though Raphael had heard Levi play wonderfully on more than one occasion. Waffling, Levi excused, “You want me to play? U-um, I’m not very good. Lucifer is better at this sort of thing…”

“Didn’t Lucifer tutor you?” Raphael asked, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Levi yelped.

Raphael frowned. He hadn’t meant to scare him.

“Come on, isn’t a big brother supposed to look out for their younger siblings?” Attempting a new tactic, Belphie pulled out the puppy dog eyes, sitting down on the ground next to the piano bench. Raphael did not miss the way Belphie’s finger instinctively clenched around the air, as if searching for a blanket. “I really want to hear Raphael sing.”

“Ah, okay, uh, fine.” Levi crumbled under Belphie’s words. Raphael considered that it had been a smart attack. Levi yearned for recognition, especially after his position as an army general had been made unnecessary (for now). The opportunity to help another angel, to be of some sort of use, forced his hand.

And perhaps Raphael had the sheet music on him, procured it in an instant and threw it upon the as if he had anticipated Belphie’s request all along. When Levi gawked, when Belphie raised an eyebrow, he insisted that he kept it on him for when Lucifer and Michael asked for a song.

Levi’s fingers began to carefully slide across the piano keys, hesitant at first, a little slower than the piece suggested. But then, he found his rhythm, his heart pounding in time with the strings hammering inside the piano.

As the melody swelled, Raphael began to sing. He liked to start off soft, unexpecting. All smooth notes with little emotion. Then, as the classical piece grew, building with increased piano activity, he allowed his voice to become imperfect, allowed the vowels to waver and the consonants to cut off when he felt it right. His eyes fluttering shut, Raphael lost himself in the music, in the croon of his voice harmonizing with Levi’s more than capable instrumentation.

When he sang, his mind became colorful, fizzy and hazy and oh, so sweet. The gentle fog was warm, like the cloying sensation that he’d feel in his chest when he would help Simeon prune Michael’s roses in the greenhouse, when he would discuss ethics over tea with Lucifer. He would be lying if he didn’t experience a similar emotion when he sought out Mammon traipsing all over wherever he definitely was not supposed to be, or when Asmodeus brought him all the clothes that had suffered at the hands of Lucifer’s punishments. As it turned out, sewing wasn’t as bad as Raphael thought it would be.

The song coming to an end, Raphael felt his soul cling to the vestiges of that pretty, sparkling dreamscape. It was always harder finishing a piece than starting one. His voice belting the final crescendo, he had to maneuver his tone back down into something soft and somber, almost mournful of what was coming to a close.

The music room echoed silence for a single beat as he exhaled slowly, allowing his spirit to return to his body.

“That was beautiful,” Levi breathed, stars in his watery eyes as he showered Raphael with applause. “I wonder if people can sing like that in the human world. Do you think there’s manga about singers?”

Though, his clapping sounded rather…lonely. Raphael’s spine went ramrod straight, realization sparking something fierce and electric in his mind.

“Where’s Bel–” The question died in his throat at the sight of the otherwise empty music room. He already knew the answer.

“He won this round, didn’t he?” Levi chuckled nervously, awkwardly tapping two keys reminiscent of a whomp, whomp.

“I suppose,” Raphael turned on his heel, already aiming for the observatory. “Next round he will become quite acquainted with my spears.”

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

OBEY ME! MONTH MASTERLIST

#obey me month #day 25 #obey me raphael #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #drabble #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date

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girlboss-enthusiast · 10 months ago

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Please tell us how to get into IT without a degree! I have an interview for a small tech company this week and I’m going in as admin but as things expand I can bootstrap into a better role and I’d really appreciate knowing what skills are likely to be crucial for making that pivot.

Absolutely!! You'd be in a great position to switch to IT, since as an admin, you'd already have some familiarity with the systems and with the workplace in general. Moving between roles is easier in a smaller workplace, too.

So, this is a semi-brief guide to getting an entry-level position, for someone with zero IT experience. That position is almost always going to be help desk. You've probably heard a lot of shit about help desk, but I've always enjoyed it.

So, here we go! How to get into IT for beginners!

The most important thing on your resume will be

✨~🌟Certifications!!🌟~✨

Studying for certs can teach you a lot, especially if you're entirely new to the field. But they're also really important for getting interviews. Lots of jobs will require a cert or degree, and even if you have 5 years of experience doing exactly what the job description is, without one of those the ATS will shunt your resume into a black hole and neither HR or the IT manager will see it.

First, I recommend getting the CompTIA A+. This will teach you the basics of how the parts of a computer work together - hardware, software, how networking works, how operating systems work, troubleshooting skills, etc. If you don't have a specific area of IT you're interested in, this is REQUIRED. Even if you do, I suggest you get this cert just to get your foot in the door.

I recommend the CompTIA certs in general. They'll give you a good baseline and look good on your resume. I only got the A+ and the Network+, so can't speak for the other exams, but they weren't too tough.

If you're more into development or cybersecurity, check out these roadmaps. You'll still benefit from working help desk while pursuing one of those career paths.

The next most important thing is

🔥🔥Customer service & soft skills🔥🔥

Sorry about that.

I was hired for my first ever IT role on the strength of my interview. I definitely wasn't the only candidate with an A+, but I was the only one who knew how to handle customers (aka end-users). Which is, basically, be polite, make the end-user feel listened to, and don't make them feel stupid. It is ASTOUNDING how many IT people can't do that. I've worked with so many IT people who couldn't hide their scorn or impatience when dealing with non-tech-savvy coworkers.

Please note that you don't need to be a social butterfly or even that socially adept. I'm autistic and learned all my social skills by rote (I literally have flowcharts for social interactions), and I was still exceptional by IT standards.

Third thing, which is more for you than for your resume (although it helps):

🎇Do your own projects🎇

This is both the most and least important thing you can do for your IT career. Least important because this will have the smallest impact on your resume. Most important because this will help you learn (and figure out if IT is actually what you want to do).

The certs and interview might get you a job, but when it comes to doing your job well, hands-on experience is absolutely essential. Here are a few ideas for the complete beginner. Resources linked at the bottom.

Start using the command line. This is called Terminal on Mac and Linux. Use it for things as simple as navigating through file directories, opening apps, testing your connection, that kind of thing. The goal is to get used to using the command line, because you will use it professionally.

Build your own PC. This may sound really intimidating, but I swear it's easy! This is going to be cheaper than buying a prebuilt tower or gaming PC, and you'll learn a ton in the bargain.

Repair old PCs. If you don't want to or can't afford to build your own PC, look for cheap computers on Craiglist, secondhand stores, or elsewhere. I know a lot of universities will sell old technology for cheap. Try to buy a few and make a functioning computer out of parts, or just get one so you can feel comfortable working in the guts of a PC.

Learn Powershell or shell scripting. If you're comfortable with the command line already or just want to jump in the deep end, use scripts to automate tasks on your PC. I found this harder to do for myself than for work, because I mostly use my computer for web browsing. However, there are tons of projects out there for you to try!

Play around with a Raspberry Pi. These are mini-computers ranging from $15-$150+ and are great to experiment with. I've made a media server and a Pi hole (network-wide ad blocking) which were both fun and not too tough. If you're into torrenting, try making a seedbox!

Install Linux on your primary computer. I know, I know - I'm one of those people. But seriously, nothing will teach you more quickly than having to compile drivers through the command line so your Bluetooth headphones will work. Warning: this gets really annoying if you just want your computer to work. Dual-booting is advised.

If this sounds intimidating, that's totally normal. It is intimidating! You're going to have to do a ton of troubleshooting and things will almost never work properly on your first few projects. That is part of the fun!

Resources

Resources I've tried and liked are marked with an asterisk*

Professor Messor's Free A+ Training Course*

PC Building Simulator 2 (video game)

How to build a PC (video)

PC Part Picker (website)*

CompTIA A+ courses on Udemy

50 Basic Windows Commands with Examples*

Mac Terminal Commands Cheat Sheet

Powershell in a Month of Lunches (video series)

Getting Started with Linux (tutorial)* Note: this site is my favorite Linux resource, I highly recommend it.

Getting Started with Raspberry Pi

Raspberry Pi Projects for Beginners

/r/ITCareerQuestions*

Ask A Manager (advice blog on workplace etiquette and more)*

Reddit is helpful for tech questions in general. I have some other resources that involve sailing the seas; feel free to DM me or send an ask I can answer privately.

Tips

DO NOT work at an MSP. That stands for Managed Service Provider, and it's basically an IT department which companies contract to provide tech services. I recommend staying away from them. It's way better to work in an IT department where the end users are your coworkers, not your customers.

DO NOT trust remote entry-level IT jobs. At entry level, part of your job is schlepping around hardware and fixing PCs. A fully-remote position will almost definitely be a call center.

DO write a cover letter. YMMV on this, but every employer I've had has mentioned my cover letter as a reason to hire me.

DO ask your employer to pay for your certs. This applies only to people who either plan to move into IT in the same company, or are already in IT but want more certs.

DO NOT work anywhere without at least one woman in the department. My litmus test is two women, actually, but YMMV. If there is no woman in the department in 2024, and the department is more than 5 people, there is a reason why no women work there.

DO have patience with yourself and keep an open mind! Maybe this is just me, but if I can't do something right the first time, or if I don't love it right away, I get very discouraged. Remember that making mistakes is part of the process, and that IT is a huge field which ranges from UX design to hardware repair. There are tons of directions to go once you've got a little experience!

Disclaimer: this is based on my experience in my area of the US. Things may be different elsewhere, esp. outside of the US.

I hope this is helpful! Let me know if you have more questions!

#answers.txt #feel free to reblog with more advice btw

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ketsuarting · 11 months ago

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My theory is that Alastor was a total fraud, that he didn’t kill all those overlords, but instead took credit for someone else’s secret killing of them, to raise his rep, and then slowly acquire some actual power through soul collecting. And that this was the reason he would make a deal with *someone*, for some real power in case he ever found himself in an actual fight, either with the real killer, or someone else entirely. To say most of the time he was smiling it was to cover genuine nervousness, an everlasting fear that someone, anyone would recognise him for the fraud he is. To say the real reason he didn’t join the Vees was that he knew they would figure him out. Like if you look at ‘Stayed Gone’, you know how Vox glitches out during the song and it seems Alastor does it from afar? The previous part of the song has Vox skip down the hallway to the other Vees while singing, and on his first step, ONE OF ALASTOR’S SYMBOLS GLOWS ON THE FLOOR BEFORE VANISHING. This barely lasts a few frames, but it is real, it is there, to say Alastor’s power is based on the illusion of it: he is a powerful demon now, sure, but not all-powerful. Hence why his duets were always about getting under the other’s skin: because they are more powerful than him, but do not know it. Lucifer being the first he would go up against to actually know himself more powerful, hence Alastor’s annoyance, not wanting weakness to give way to further weakness. Maybe in the present after his deal he thought he had that power, hence why he looked so confused when Adam beat him: he really thought the power he was given was enough to stand against him and win. Given the Vees will apparently be main characters next season, and we’ve gotten to know some of the current overlords, I would not be surprised if the big mystery next season is overlords going missing again, only this time Alastor will be unable to take responsibility for the disappearance, and we the audience will learn the truth of what he is, or rather what he’s not.

I wanna agree in part to this, because I also believe Alastor is playing up his skill for more than it is.

He's the radio demon, that MEDIA. And the strongest parts of media is rephrasing data to the masses as to mislead them. This, in turn, would also be Vox's strength, and thus those two are locked into an eternal battle of (mis)information.

That's also why alastor probably engaged in the stayed gone rap duel in the first place. He position is already precarious what with the 7 year absence, but if vox now starts gaining foothold in their little war? Alastor would be fucked long term.

Alastor is also clearly BETTER at what he does than Vox. Because vox is less of a show host demon and more of a CEO/Producer demon. I collect strong allies to put in front of the camera, he himself isn't really a face for TV (haha see what I did there?)

I do believe though that Alastor has some inherent strength. He is adept in the arcane more so than your average demon, his voodoo capabilities are presumably what give him a leg up in hell.

Also. Alastor was a MURDERER. A serial killer at that!!! Presumably that's actually not what most people did before hell. For example: angel dust got into hell for his drug addictions, husk for his gambling addiction. Valentino probably landed his ass down there for exploitation (though he shows a carelessness for the lives of those he considers property), velvette I assume will be revealed to either b cyber bullying of sabotaging competition and Vox seems to be in hell for crimes of capitalism. (These are mainly head canons but My point is more that these people aren't in hell for murder explicitly.)

Alastor is powerful, but he DEFINITELY is lying and obfuscatinga bout how powerful exactly. It works to his benefit. Unlike Vox who has the urge to PROVE his strength at every turn.

And this is actually something they're polar opposites on. Vox is honest to a fault. Literally, to a fault. He NEEDS hell to know that the demon is back. He NEEDS them to realize that he doesn't want them to even give him their time of day. He needs velvette and Valentino to witness his whole manic episode about it.

Meanwhile Alastor couldn't be honest if his life depended on it, literally. He must have known that he can't beat Adam. Deep down he must have realized how FUCKED he would be. But he either a) deluded himself that he stands a chance or b) lied to the other in order to safe face.

Also a big part of alastor are his deals. He literally bluffed himself into a position of power, by misleading others into deals that would benefit him much more than them.

Husk retained his power, but how does it matter if Alastor wields it?

Charlie has to do one favor that 'harms no one' but what if it ends up being something that benefits people that are purely evil?

His deals suck ASS and people fall for it anyways because he either gives them no other option or make them feel like they're having the upper hand for once.

But at the end of the day he is just a sinner. If Lucifer wanted to he could obliterate his Twink ass in a second. Adam too, could've absolutely finish alastor, but he delighted in the radio demon running away from him. Probably because Adam understand what kind of blow to the go that must've been to the guy.

#hazbin hotel #answer #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #vox #hazbin hotel analysis #im sorry i severly lost the plot at some point lol

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upn-the-sky · 1 year ago

Text

Give me God of War!! (Ares OOAK, Part 1)

okay, you know, how craft works.

One day you've just become attached to GOW with ropes and tears. Another day you've decided in your head that you can't breath without any figure from this game.

You probably buy Kratos action figure (as I did) and probably feel yourself satisfied because your money are safe now (as I thought too! I can't have armored Kratos on his olympic throne, cause I don't have a third kidney, sadly, so I was very pleased with a little god Kratos figure (Neca). After fixing up paint on his face, I look at him and think ohw, you are gorgeous :зззззз).

So, you are moving forward, replay or rewatch god of war games, especially the first games... you are fine.

UNTIL you decide that you are an adept, who stans GOW Ares. You fire up this dump and can't live your life without Ares doll. Idol. I-doll.

If you are me, then you can understand. As Ares said, flesh burns, bones breaks, but putting man into making a custom doll is what truly destroys him. So I hugged my family to increase my level of rage and started. Now you can go under the cut

Actually, I wouldn't do it, but there is no GOW Ares figures in this cruel world at all. Sadly! He is beautiful red-haired war baby, isn't he?

And I like his original design more than the one we have in Ascension. (Althought I like his non-armored outfit (red chiton) from Ascension concept arts, which wasn't used). Anyway, if we want to have our own god of war, we have one way to figure it out.

Personally I've seen only one Ares OOAK in the internet. It was at Neca Kratos base and it was kinda fine. There was completely re-sculpted head, but the body was without any changes. Kratos in his slut era (thank you tumblr, you are the best) was really scraggy, so Ares with his thin waist looked funny 😅.

Well, anyway, Ares wasn't a thin reed and loved to hunch over, so we need to be canon.

I would say, I am not an OOAKer at all, I've just customized my own ball-joined dolls a couple of times, and I say it straightly, making Ares bjd would be nice, but it probably turns out to an endless torture for me and my finances. So for the base I decided to chose 1/6 scale action figure. I needed to harvest a head and a body. It is going to be a re-sculpted hybrid anyway, so we can ignore color difference and stuff. Yes, I devoted my heart and aliexpress account to Ares 🥲

Whoever recognized the head donor actor, well done x) A bit of alcohol and nail cutter for the eyes (it's varnish was undestructible, holy shit..) will manually wipe out his personality forever, bye

Beautiful face. But totally needs to be reworked. Ares has unique face features like a round forehead, wide mouth, full upper lip and a bit potato, but still hellenic nose (isn't it precious? 💕). Honestly I think Santa Monica made him really pleasing and beautiful man in his mature ages. He is not old, but you feel that he is not young too already.

So I took out my Ares iconostasis, which allows me to absorb his beauty from all angles, and started a portrait sculpting.

It was a little hell, but after letting all changes dry, I sanded it and tinted head using airbrush so it will be able to match a body color. Quick matching test:

Nice?

As you can see, both body and head has a good tan skintone. And I know, Ares in GOW1 is as pale as Kratos.

Why am I not tinted him in ashy grey color? 1) It is night in a game, colors are faded because of it, 2) I tried and it looked messy, really... 3) I headcanon that both Ares and Kratos have the same reason for that: Ares is covered in ashes too. But Ares is not cursed, he is like.. always in contact with fire.

So I think that under this grey dust Ares has classic olive skin, same as Kratos. That's why I leave my Ares as if he was washed in a bath and get tidy like he is going to visit Aphrodite's chamber 💫. Anyway if I want to, I just can use photo filters to change it.

Okay, things become serious now.

We've finally reached to the face up.. And my working table lies in ruins and not usable anymore because of the fucking mess after previous steps.

God dammit on me and every single hair I drew in his eyebrows, but I have to say, it was really exciting to paint him. Finally give him his own gaze, brighten up his lips and cheeks. I didn't want to make him an angry bitch. Because he is not this person for me, neither in myths, nor in the game. He is a god, who lived through a lot of mortal lives and has seen a different kinds of.. chaos you know. OG Kratos is an infant compared to him I mean if you think of amount of past experience Ares has. Imho, he wasn't even truly angry at Kratos in GOW1. So I painted his expression how I feel and interpret his main emotional tone. Ares can be purely wrathful, but wrath is not cynical. That's what i think of him.

Okay, when the god became able to truly look after me, I couldn't hesistate and started to made the most iconic feature of him. His flaming hair and beard.

And I'll say it if you don't. I absolutely ❤ adore ❤ his red tousled mane ❤ .

(Just imagine Aphrodite tugging it or brushing, or just bury her face in his hair, because she knows that he will never burn her with his flames. I want to draw this now...)

I wanted his hair to be soft, easily combed and glowing without any electric lights. Gladly I've worked with a doll hair for a long time already.

Earlier I didn't cut off all of plastic hair from the head, only changed hairline by moving it a bit upper from his forehead. It was a part of the plan from the beginning. For the dolls I usually use very thin wool, and plastic mold will provide needed volume for his front combed strands. Screenshots before the eyes, two days of straggling (I wanted all hair to be removable without damaging varnish on his face) and we finally done.

And honestly I don't even want to shorten his hair. He is a perfection.

(Sorry for the empty juice bottle, I will set him on a body later)

Thank you for watching.

Skeletor will return soon with Part 2, where we will create his iconic armor. Well, I hope it will be soon. As soon as I have donors for a dog heads 🥲 He really loved Cerberus.

#ooak doll #ooak #action figures #ares #ares god of war #gow #god of war #gowr #god of war ragnarok #gow ragnarok #upn-the-sky handycraft #kratos gow #kratos

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opreaadriann · 11 months ago

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Found your game today, and tried it out and really enjoyed it. I already brought up the trans name situation on the forums, which you so kindly already replied to and figured I'd ask the last few things here both to get your account here some traction, but to also avoid clogging up the forum post.

The player is able to get a tattoo, which is fucking amazing but I was wondering if it would be possible to get more than one? Unless individual tattoos and their meaning is brought up at any point in conversation, which it would then make sense to limit it to just one. But if the specifics of the tattoo isn't brought up, could you make so that the player could've multiple tattoos?

On the topic of tattoos, an option to have piercings would be a really cool option as well. Even if they aren't outright mentioned at all in the story, they would still be a cool addition if for no other reason than a head-canon of what your MC looks like. Again, having multiple piercings would be cool. Piercings would definitely add some extra spice for the players like me, who are going for the rebel without a cause / rockstar musician persona.

Height. Absolutely height. I want to be a tall trans girl rebel/musician who can tower over the shorter RO's, specifically the girls, even if I do feel like I won't romance anyone of them. At least not from what I've seen of them so far, and their personalities and past and present behavior.

And last but not least. Cigarettes. When you meet the clown that was our first friend, you can pull out a pack of cigarettes and hand him one, because you think he might find it cool. This option to me at least, seemed very out of left field since there was absolutely no indication the MC was a smoker. I don't personally mind the MC smoking, again it would fit her persona, but it might be jarring to some players. Maybe make it an option early on if the MC smokes, and if they do they'll have the option to pick this scene? Like that it's established the MC smokes, and as a result can be used later on in the story for other scenes as well, rather than just potentially being a one-off situation, and it could potentially become a cool story element to build on the MC and their potentially very different personalities from each different player. Because as it currently is, making it a one-off scene would make it even more weird than it already feels without any prior choice of smoking or not, because why would the MC smoking never be mentioned again if they picked this choice, because clearly they smoke otherwise they wouldn't carry a pack of cigarettes with them I would imagine.

This last bit isn't really a topic, suggestions, or request, but rather a question. If you join the band with your adept skill being music, the MC has some internal monologue about how you might be able to take over the lead singer role if you got trained in singing. Will this ever be an option? Because I would love to absolutely take over the band, as the main 'front girl' with my bass and singing, haha.

Hey, first of all, thanks for the name change suggestion. It really would have been stupid to keep the same name after the transition haha. I’ve already added the code for it, I’ll just wait to do a bigger update to add it to the demo.

Originally I was thinking of making the tattoos important in some way or another but It’s been 5 years and I can’t remember for the life of me what that purpose was. So yeah, I’ll add the option to add more tattoos and I’ll probably only talk about one of them or mention their overall presence.

And sure, piercings, why the hell not?

Oh yeah, height would be good for the character customization. I just naturally assumed the MC was relatively tall, but forgot I should actually give the choice haha

The smoking bit I thought worked well with the rebel/edgy persona, since, for example, the edgy type will have a lot of stuff never mentioned before ready for special occasions. In the cafeteria scene, the edgelord had food prepared from home and they don’t stay in line to get anything. But yeah, I guess I could explain better that our MC prepared stuff from home for occasions like these.

And, yes, you can become the lead vocalist for the renowned Fighting Rooster! Without spoiling anything, there will be a plot in the band where you’ll need to figure out who should be the vocalist. And that option can also be you.

#high school revenge #interactive fiction #tattoos #if wip #trans pride

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silver---linings · 1 month ago

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[ Revenge one-off time! /pos @theshadowandhislight here to return some holiday cheer. Separate of course, from anything major you might got going on with Silver ^^ You're welcome to ignore it if you'd like. ]

Two gifts seemed to appear and if it weren't already obvious by the colorations of the gifts then it was very clear by the notes attached to them. one of the gifts was blue and green, whilst the other was black and red. both signature colors of who the presents came from, but each had their own respectful gifts directed to Silver as well as notes written separately by the two gayhogs.

The blue and green gift had a blue bow atop it and attacked to it was a string and a note. the handwriting as clearly not as neat as Shadow's and actually it looked as if the note on this one was written a couple of times before Sonic got it right but eventually it seemed to say;

'Merry Christmas Silver! Dont ask how we figured out how to send these to you, okay? what's important is that you also get a gift, if you've not already. we appreciate the gifts you got for us and in return, me and Shadow got you stuff too! PS: I did NOT one of the items inside the gift for you from somebody else, promise! got a replica instead!' - From The Blue Blur.

Inside that Blue and Green Gift was a wrapped up preserved Blue Cheese and a gold, white, and blue Lovely ring wrapped up in bubble wrap to keep it safe. Shadow probably helped him decide to add the ring, in all honesty.

The Black and Red gift however did not have a bow on it, though it still had a string and a notecard that had a well neatly written note which was clearly of Shadow's paw etiquette. On the note itself, this is what it had to say;

'Happy Holidays, Future Boy. Sonic insisted that we send you gifts in polite retaliation for the gifts you sent us. so we hope that you enjoy these gifts and remain safe in recent times. PS: Sonic totally did steal the ring in the other gift. do not worry, I made him replace the real one to those that it belonged to.' - From The Ultimate Lifeform

Inside the Black And Red Gift was actually more neatly put together than Sonic's. not That Sonic didn't care, but that he might've been too excited about sending gifts while Shadow took his time with the process. inside was a Black mug with white writing on it. The White Boldened Words also had a word in between the two, which made it clear that this was a Humor mug. from the top it said 'FUTURE', then 'Prince' crossed out in blue, followed by 'PROTECTOR'. inside of it was a little box of several kinds of herbal tea that seemed to be picked out specifically to relax those with stress and anxiety. some lavender scented, some not. there was also a black hot topic card in the bottom that seemed to have 30 dollars on it already. a Hot Topic giftcard.

"And that should be the last ones!" Silver exclaimed as he sent the last of the presents through a time portal before it closed. "I hope everyone's presents got to them safe."

Why was Silver sending presents through a time portal, you may ask? Wouldn't he have preferred to deliver them himself? To put it simply, he didn't want to deal with the cold. The weather in the past is in the negatives, last he checked, and there's no way he was going to be flying around in that low of a temperature. He would turn into a "hedgesickle" in minutes.

The only present he didn't send through was a lilac and lavender one that was addressed to Blaze, but since she lives in another dimension, there's no way he could send it to her as he's not as adept in Dimensional Travel as she is, so he's going to hold on to it and deliver it in-person later.

Silver yawns as he stretches. Keeping the time portal open for so long was exhausting. He was about to go for a nap when he heard the sound of something appearing behind him. "Huh?! HAH!" He whips around with his hands glowing, thinking a threat decided to show up, but quickly calmed down when he saw the presents.

"Wait, what?" Silver already knew who sent the presents, the color-coded boxes make that obvious, his question is how on Mobius did they send presents to his timeline, and how did they know the exact timeline to send it to?? Maybe they had two Chaos Emeralds and used Chaos Control to send these through time? He'll have to ask about it later.

Regardless of how the presents got here, Silver wasn't really expecting to get anything in return, at least, not before he returned to the past.

He decided, after a bit of thinking, to open Sonic's gift first, opening it with the eagerness of a child on Christmas. He looks over his note. From the looks of it, it looked like Sonic wrote it in a hurry, but Silver isn’t one to judge when he pretty much did the same thing.

"'Don't ask how we figured out how to send these to you, okay?' Heh. A little late for that, Sonic." Silver slightly tilts his head when he reads the post-script. Even though this was hand-written, he could tell Sonic was lying, but what exactly did he steal?

When Silver opened the gift, inside was a wrapped up preserved blue cheese; it looked weird, but Silver ate weirder things, so maybe it's not that bad; and wrapped in bubble wrap was a gold, white, and blue lovely ring.

He takes out the ring to get a better look at it. It was too fancy, well, he thinks it looks pretty fancy, it did look expensive, maybe this was the thing he stole. He put the ring back in the box before moving on to Shadow's gift.

He reads through Shadow's note, rolling his eyes a little at "future boy", chuckled a bit at "polite retaliation", then went "Yeah, I figured." when he read the post-script.

Silver opens Shadow's gift. One of the gifts inside was a black mug with white bold words on it, with one being crossed out in blue. He let out a snort as he figured out it was one of those humor mugs. "Pretty accurate."

He's definitely a FUTURE PROTECTOR, and not a Prince. It's not like he would become a prince, or rather royalty, one day, right?

Inside the mug were various teas, a few of them smelling of lavender. Silver isn’t much of a tea guy, but he'll still try them out. Tea does taste better than coffee, at least to him.

Last but not least, at the bottom of the present lies a gift card. A Hot Topic gift card to be exact. With 30 dollars already in it. Silver smirked as he took out the gift card. "I expected nothing less from you, Shadow."

But given that the date on the card is 200 years past expired, it's definitely not going to work if he were to try spending it in this timeline.

While the presents popping up in his timeline were very unexpected, it was a welcome surprise. Silver makes note to thank Sonic and Shadow later once they all cross paths again.

#Silvery Answers #theshadowandhislight #((I wasn't expecting to get sent an ask in return. but Thank you! It was a nice surprise!))#((Merry Christmas!/Happy Holidays!))#Silver the Hedgehog

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