#curiosity fic

[pockspocket]

They're such losers...and are in love <3

[yuepants]

that's it. that's the post.

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Obviously you might have varying opinions for specific fandoms but generally if you think across many of them which do you prefer?

[nyoomerr]

Fic prompt: SY is the chosen cleric of LBH, the world's most possessive divine emperor, accent on the divine. He did not sign up for this. (Meanwhile, LBH is trying to figure out how he can fit a divine empress into this pantheon)

i actually got very into this AU once i thought about it for 0.5 seconds, so here's a lil drabble that i hope to expand on and put on ao3 in the future ;>

---

Shen Yuan wouldn’t consider himself to be particularly religious. He believed in the gods, of course - the proof of their existence is written on every street corner and under every roof. The lights of the city that have no discernible power source outside of the goddess of invention herself, the unemptiable food basket that had been gifted to Shen Yuan’s father by the god of plenty, the buzz of raw energy in the air each weekend when the city gathers to say its prayers. 

Undoubtedly, Shen Yuan had grown up in a city blessed by the gods, so naturally he believes in them. He just doesn’t much care for them.

A city blessed by the gods is also a city kept by them, after all. No inventions that could possibly be construed as a weapon would ever be approved by the ministry of creation. No civil courts existed when the gods could directly send down divine punishment to sinners.

No life in the city would ever survive if the gods found it unworthy.

Shen Yuan knew, objectively, why the rules of the gods were so strict. Divine Emperor Luo wrote them himself, and each one had been crafted specifically to prevent the sort of strife and abuse that he had witnessed when he was a mere mortal. Every schoolchild learns the story of the pitiful Luo Binghe who struggled to reach the heavens, faced every day with proof of humanity’s dishonor and ugliness.

When that pathetic Luo Binghe had awakened his blood as the Divine Emperor, he’d immediately sought to rewrite the rules of the heavens to fix the issues he’d seen as a mortal. It made sense. It even worked, to some objective degree of measurement: starvation and war between human lands was barely heard of, these days.

Shen Yuan casts his eyes up to the ceiling of the chapel. A mural of Divine Emperor Luo is painted in bright splashes of color, his eyes piercing down at the viewer as he holds a drink in one hand and a woman in the other. An image of wealth and wellness; a warning to stay in line if you wish for a similar happy ending. 

Shen Yuan thinks that the Divine Emperor must truly have had a hard life, to rule as such an immature god. A child that never got the chance to grow up freely, now imposing their black-and-white outlook of life on an entire land of people who are mature enough to understand that life isn’t so simple.

Shen Yuan looks back down, peering through barely open eyes at his feet. He isn’t supposed to have his eyes open at all, during prayer. It’s just - despite the issues he has with the gods’ reign, and despite the apathy he feels in place of admiration or piety, he really can’t help but think - 

How pitiful, to have ascended without first understanding the joy of being human. How sad, to have your ‘happy ending’ worshiped by the masses without understanding it yourself, believing it to be good only because it follows your own strict rules. 

Shen Yuan sighs, a quiet release of air in the quiet of the chapel.

His next breath in feels electric. 

The vaulted ceilings of the chapel suddenly feel claustrophobic. The quiet hum of hands rubbing against hands in silent prayer rises to a crescendo of skin and movement and life. What low light the candles lining the pews had provided now burns as brightly as the light of a hundred divine lanterns, but there isn’t anywhere Shen Yuan can cast his eyes towards that is less shocking to look at. 

And there, at the front of the chapel, is a god. 

Shen Yuan’s breath catches. He can’t look away. The god is beautiful; more divine than any blessing that Shen Yuan has ever witnessed. 

He is also looking directly at Shen Yuan, meeting his gaze through half lidded eyes and with the laziness of an apex predator. 

Around Shen Yuan, the other church-goers have begun to break from their prayers, startled and choking on the divine presence around them. Many of them dare to sneak peeks at the descended god, but none of them seem able to look directly at him, their eyes sliding off of him before they quickly duck their heads and take up the pose of prayer once more.

Shen Yuan still can’t look away.

Slowly, the god steps down from the pulpit and begins to approach. He doesn’t bother to look at Shen Yuan as he moves forward, casually glancing around the chapel as if assessing it. His eyes catch on the mural on the ceiling - his own face looking down at him, though paling in comparison to the beauty and power of the real thing. 

And then he pulls his eyes back to Shen Yuan, and Shen Yuan realizes with a start that he’s stopped walking, standing directly in front of the pew Shen Yuan is sitting in.

Shen Yuan wets his lips. His pulse beats jack-rabbit fast in his throat.

“Divine Emperor Luo,” he greets. “How - how can I serve you?”

The weight of the Divine Emperor’s attention is no lighter than if Shen Yuan had held the entire ocean on his shoulders. He looks at Shen Yuan as if he might eat him, and expects Shen Yuan to thank him for the honor of filling a divine stomach.

“Do you think you can?” He asks, and Shen Yuan shudders at the sound of his voice. An infinitely powerful being, and he’s speaking to Shen Yuan as if Shen Yuan were a peculiarity, something fit to either be played with or disposed of once the god has finished assessing him. 

“Can I - um, my apologies, Divine Emperor, can I…?”

“Serve me,” The gods says. “Or did you offer such a thing unthinkingly?”

Shen Yuan stares at him. Divine Emperor Luo stares back, his gaze sharp as he takes Shen Yuan in. 

“Can you,” Divine Emperor Luo says, voice low and dangerous, “serve a god that you see as pitiful?”

Shen Yuan jerks back as if slapped. How useless would it be to say that he hadn’t meant it? If a god can hear any thought about them, not only directed prayers - for certainly, Shen Yuan’s private ruminations about the tragedy of Luo Binghe’s story had been nothing like a prayer, and yet they had clearly been heard - then there is no point in lying. If Shen Yuan were to claim one thing with his mouth and another with his mind, he’d only be branded one of the many sinners to be smited by the Divine Emperor’s just hand. Deceit was hardly looked favorably upon; to lie to a god that could hear the truth from your own mind would be suicide. 

Shen Yuan hesitates. At his back, he knows his family must be terrified, and yet he also knows that they dare not look at the Divine Emperor, and that their heads must be bowed in prayer like everyone else in the chapel. 

A room with a hundred people, and it may as well just be Shen Yuan and his god.

The Divine Emperor’s lips quirk up. It isn’t a friendly expression. 

“Your god, little Shen Yuan?” He asks cruelly. “You can pity me, and you can know in your heart that you are incapable of serving me, and yet you claim to be devout to me in the same breath?”

“Aren’t I yours, Divine Emperor?” Shen Yuan asks. His voice does not waver, but it is a near thing. “If I didn’t belong to you, could I dare to live in this city? Every living thing here must live by your rule; naturally, we must all belong to you.”

“What pretty words,” Divine Emperor Luo says. His eyes glint red from beneath his lashes, and Shen Yuan thinks -

Ah, so red is truly the color of the divine. 

Divine Emperor Luo’s eyes are very suddenly the same deep brown that his murals all portray him with. Shen Yuan lowers his gaze deferentially, and wonders idly if all the other too-sharp pieces of the Divine Emperor would smooth out if Shen Yuan’s thoughts lingered on them. 

“If Divine Emperor Luo finds my words pretty, then I will dare to keep speaking,” Shen Yuan says, keeping his eyes turned down. 

“Go on, then. Speak.”

Shen Yuan takes a shuddering breath in. His family is still cowering behind him. The old lady who lives down the street is shaking in her pew across the aisle. 

And Shen Yuan has never considered himself especially religious, because believing in the gods is very different from placing your faith in them. 

“To spy is the manifestation of distrust,” Shen Yuan recites, the words long since memorized after a lifetime of growing up under the gods’ many rules about morality and punishment. “A lack of trust in others implies something impure within yourself. Spying should be punished with ten lashes.”

Shen Yuan’s mother lets out a quiet sound of alarm, stifled so quickly it sounds like a whimper. Shen Yuan does not bother to send her any sort of mental apology; it would not reach her, and would instead be intercepted by an outsider. 

Besides, Shen Yuan had known well what he was doing, quoting the rules that the Divine Emperor had written right back at him, implying that a god should be punished. It would be foolish to apologize for something he had done so purposefully. 

“Spying,” Divine Emperor Luo says, after the silence in the chapel has stretched long. “What a funny way to describe listening to the prayers of my followers. Is it spying for you to hear a call made to you from within your own house?”

“If all of the prayers that the Divine Emperor receives sound like what he heard from me,” Shen Yuan says, glancing back up to meet the god’s eyes defiantly. “Then I wonder why he hasn’t bothered to descend before today to scold us all.”

“Does little Shen Yuan think I will scold him?” Divine Emperor Luo asks, voice soft. 

“I think,” Shen Yuan says, “that a god normally so busy with punishing us would not bother to descend unless it was to fulfill those duties.”

“The world is good, from the work that I do,” Divine Emperor Luo says sharply. 

“Is it?” Shen Yuan asks, and he finds that his fear has been pushed down, his chest tight with a lifetime of reading about the gods and wondering why, if Luo Binghe’s life was so miserable, would he be unable to recognize misery in his own subjects, living every day in fear of him? 

Luo Binghe had been pitiful, and he’d never been allowed to grow up peacefully, and Shen Yuan truly thinks it sad that a divine being could live in such a tragic way. 

But that doesn’t make him blind to the way that Luo Binghe’s immaturity has scorched the mortal plane, nor does his pity completely dissolve his anger over such a thing. 

Shen Yuan’s fate had been sealed from the moment they the Divine Emperor had descended. If he’s going to be punished regardless, then it will be for having said his piece. 

Dying from bitching this pathetic god out is a far better story than dying from having only thought it. 

And yet, before Shen Yuan can open his mouth again -

The Divine Emperor turns suddenly, facing the cleric at the front of the chapel. The old man is clutching at his prayer book with shaking hands, and he ducks his head instantly when the god looks his way. 

“Take him in as a disciple,” Divine Emperor Luo commands, gesturing lazily in Shen Yuan’s direction. “I want him trained and moved to the main church by the end of the year.”

Shen Yuan looks at the cleric, and then back at the god in front of him. He - what?

The Divine Emperor glances back at Shen Yuan, his lips quirked up and his eyes once more a blazing red. 

“There’s another reason for a god to descend than to administer punishment,” he says. “We must also appoint clerics.”

And then Divine Emperor Luo is gone, the space where he once stood crackling with divine energy. 

In disbelief, Shen Yuan - the first cleric to be personally appointed by the Divine Emperor in nearly a century - falls to his knees. Fuck, he thinks, and he hopes that the god is still listening to hear it. 

[saturdaysky]

a little divine appreciation

-

God Gale is endgame for Mayhew, and Mayhew couldn't be more pleased 😌

their mutual wizard disease brought them to some pretty low lows, but hey, ignore the tragedy, they're gods now! first order of business is a little worshiping at the altar 😏

Here's the sketch, which I also like:

Got majorly inspired by these lovely photos, one of which I used as a pose reference.

[courfee]

“Regulus would be proud of us,” James whispered quietly to no one in particular, still gripping onto the painting like a life raft. 

— Tender Curiosities, Baby!  @otrtbs

[ghouly-boiiiii]

Eye of the Beholder

--

Ghoulcy Week Day 7 - Body Image, Body Worship

I still gotta catch up on the other prompts, but I really wanted to do this one because I have a headcanon that Lucy is fascinated by Cooper's skin and even finds it kinda beautiful, and Cooper is just like completely confused by this lol

[essektheylyss]

One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

[my-world-my-stories]

Ideal dates for your Yautja partner 101

- Finding a bone pile and scavenge for cool stuff like tiny skulls, fangs and claws (feathers and cool shiny rocks count). Your partner collection of cool trinkets will thank you for it.

- Camping trip. Just a perfect excuse for your alien partner to show off how good of a provider they are by giving you fresh food and fending off other beasts that get too close to the camp. The views are quite stunning. And the smashing in the tent.

- Foraging in the woods. Anything can go, from picking mushroom, to flowers and berries. Just make sure they don't try to eat every mushroom they come across so they can test if they're poisonous or not.

- How to properly clean and dispose of the bodies of your enemies. This one is very self explanatory.

[gd-dollopole]

I must admit, one year in the BBC Merlin fandom, read an unimaginable amount of fanfictions, from the most known one to the least known one, all with different ratings, canon and modern, yet, I still haven’t read, not one single fanfiction, where the author really can catch and actually portrays Arthur’s reaction to magic and to Merlin having magic like it happened in the tv show.

Like, that’s what I was missing and I realised just now. I dislike canon fics with magic, because no one can make Arthur in character and portray him like in the show and write how genuinely Arthur would react to Merlin’s magic. Either they go all over and paint Arthur as this absurd king that tortures his friend of ten years to get information from him or something or they write Arthur like a) he always knew or b) now he knows but it’s not a bother.

I want the middle ground and I want it portrayed well, like in the show. I want more of scared Arthur, but confused Arthur. I want him in the same situation he was as he was dying but actually showing me what he wanted to do if he lived. I want Arthur come back fics with him going insane because he can’t understand if he can trust Merlin or not (yes. To me it’s realistic, because everyone has their own theory as to what Arthur knows or not, but it’s Merlin who waited centuries, not Arthur. For him, it all happened yesterday).

Give me that, please.

Also, I dislike when people say “it’s unrealistic for Arthur not to know” that’s the way the character has been written😭that’s what makes Arthur Arthur, the fact that is an intelligent idiot, but that he is scared of feelings and of going through with them and has this bunch of things and responsibilities in his hands and has no idea what the fuck he’s supposed to do with them, same with magic.

That’s what ‘in character’ means.

[stuffed-x-arts]

HEY GUYS GRINS. IVE BEEN SO OBSESSED WITH SLAY THE PRINCESS THE PAST FEW DAYS IM GONNA FUCKING EXPLODE !!!!! :D

anyways take this.

I don't see them as romantic but they are still so fun. love story !! u can interpret it all how u like though lol i enjoy it all the same and just hope u have fun <3

also below the read more im gonna dump some doodles and sketches of me tryna figure out how to draw the voices and stuff smh. none of it is set in stone also maybe some spoilers idk smh go play the game !!!

HIIII here. hands u this. silly birds.

the cold is one of my faves smh but they are AAAAALL good smh. contrarian. paranoid. hunted. broken. NARRATOR holy fuck i love timeloops and tragedies and horror and narrator characters and AAAAAARGH go play slay the princess RIGHT now smh ive mostly been watching playthroughs but trust me i need to buy it soon and play it a million times over smh

[inklessletter]

Steve and Eddie are different in many ways, but they are very much the same in many others. Eddie is a ball of energy that often needs to be redirected, has strong opinions and shows his love through unexpected bites. Steve is the most comfortable when he's the host, he's a people pleaser, more easy going in conversations and so easily stressed when his routine gets fucked up.

Yeah, they're different. But what they have in common is that they know how to mold into each other's energy to brighten their days. To put a smile in their faces.

And they both love surprises.

Steve gives into Eddie's chaotic energy a random Friday after work because he knows Eddie's had a rough week, so he makes a plan. That night, Eddie came home to find all lights off and a single note in the coffee table:

Babe, I've got a surprise for you, but I need you to get ready. Look under the table.

When Eddie does, he finds another note attached to a black cawboy hat and one of his bandanas.

This is for the vibes, you gonna want to wear that tonight. Look in the fridge.

Eddie's smile keeps growing as he goes through the house, note to note finding props, building anticipation, his smile so wide his cheeks hurt now, until he was fully dressed as a cawboy, with a belt full of foam bullets and two guns. The last note is in the back door.

How you dare to come back to this place, you filthy bandit. You think you'd be welcome here after last time? You really think the sheriff is not here to put an end to your life, you goddamn traitor? Cross this door, and fight me, you coward.

Eddie's smile faded as he got into character, so goddamn ready to play the villain. He put the bandana across his face, covering his mouth and nose. Eddie crossed the door and found the back yard with with several hay bales (did Steve rent those out?) scattered all around, and waiting patiently, sitting in one of them, there was Steve, all fully dressed as a sheriff (even with a shiny gold star in his vest!), with a cigarette in his mouth, already wounding Eddie with a mischievous smile.

They played for a couple of hours until the roleplay got heated up and they ended up making each other come behind the hay bales, still in character. They only dropped the act when they came back into the house and they got each others clothes off, where the fun continued as themselves.

They didn't sleep that night. Eddie's smile lasted for days on, and Steve's love bites mark all around his body took a day or two to fade.

Yeah, Steve was a fucking perfect host.

Unbeatable, so.

Until Eddie took revenge.

[otrtbs]

feeling the urge to write tcb! barty but not tcb! barty just something like tcb! barty because that’s My Guy and i love him So Bad that i need to do the deepest dive on him and get in his head and dissect him and put him on display

[st-just]

Okay I'll stop making variants of 'shipping culture, huh?' posts after this I promise but I do really find the phenomena of, like, migratory fandoms that just latch onto some pair of characters and then hollow them out to fill with preexisting archetypes with a preexisting dynamic and a canon of story tropes that will be used regardless of how/if they fit the characters' ostensible setting and situations, like, sociologically fascinating? Like what work is the 'fan' part of fanfiction even doing at this point?

[hoonatic]

lowkey embarrassed to ask this but does anyone know & have a link to that one hoon fic where he and reader have a summer fling, they get back to school, and he completely ignores her/pretends they were nothing? then regrets it and asks for her back 🥹 PLS LET ME KNOW 😭

[formosusiniquis]

caught flour handed

For the @steddiemicrofic challenge Prompt: cake | WC: 311 | G | no CW A Dustin POV steddie discovery, everyone's fave

Steve has been up to something for weeks. Dustin knows the only way to find out what he’s been up to: sneak in and go through his shit. He’s calling it sneaking too, because if he knows where the key is he doesn’t think it can be called breaking and entering.

He twists the front knob slowly so it doesn’t click in the latch, even mostly deaf Steve always knows when someone’s at the door. Eddie would say crouching before he’s even through the doorway is a dead giveaway that something’s up. But what does he know?

“There are more helpful places your hands could be.” Dustin freezes in place; his hand still on the front door.

“There are less helpful places my hands could be.” That’s Eddie’s voice responding, but his van hadn’t been in the driveway.

“You’re the one that said you wanted cake.” He’s too far from the kitchen to tell, but Dustin would bet Steve has his hands on his hips.

“What if I said I actually wanted beefcake.” 

Steve can be a bit of a ditz sometimes, but Dustin can’t imagine him getting cake and that confused. What would beefcake even be, meatloaf?

“I would say you should have said something before we got up.”

“I would’ve but y’know how you get when your mind’s made up, Sweetheart.”

“No, I don’t actually. Want to share, Edmund?”

“Only that delicious cake you’re making.” Dustin can hear Eddie’s feet moving on Steve’s tile flooring. He’s creeping up on the doorway now, but has to assume based on the giggling that Eddie was moving out of smacking range.

Moving even closer, Dustin can see Steve facing the oven. Two perfect, white handprints on the ass of his jeans. “Your child is lurking,” Steve says, “do you wanna tell him what you’ve been doing to his babysitter, or should I?”