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ghostdiva · 30 days ago

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Jax Character Analysis

this was something I was going to turn into a video essay. I unfortunately found out the hard way that I don't have the mental capacity to turn the analysis I made into a video essay. it's just a small essay.

that said, click the read more if you want to read some walls of text.

So, as some of you might guess, I’m a huge fan of the amazing digital circus. I’ve always loved when shows break down their characters, and show how they tick, what their experiences are, and how they coped with it. Especially when these characters are antagonistic in nature. There’s nothing like thinking “man, this character is an asshole”,vaguely wondering why, then getting their lore dropped and thinking “oh…. Well yeah that’d do it”, while coping with the emotional knives the plot just stabbed you with.

And fortunately for me, this show is all about the characters. I remember seeing posts from Gooseworx, the creator of digital circus herself, stating that this show was not only about the characters, but finding meaning in a stagnant life. Which I think is an amazing and deep concept to think about.

Now, there are posts made by other people picking apart every member of the digital circus. However I feel a lot of people get Jax misunderstood, often writing him off as a one-note, one dimentional asshole. Some people even think he’s an NPC, like they can’t fathom the idea that a person would be capable of cruelty, despite the world we live in today. And with how hellish, crazy, and wild the digital world is shown to be able to be, I’m frankly not surprised that a character would be capable of cruelty.

However, I hardly think Jax is 1 dimensional. I think there’s a lot to see and explore with his character. I will also point out now, that I am not condoning, supporting, or defending Jax’s actions in the show, I’m simply trying to understand the why’s.

That said, the first thing I want to address are the emotions Jax portrays throughout the show. I’m also gonna throw in some tells I’ve noticed, along with a sprinkle of shape theory. So let’s get into it.

Like any good storyteller, I’m gonna start at the very beginning. We, as the viewer, see a lot of Jax in the pilot, aka episode 1. The first thing I wanna point out is his facial expressions. Specifically, his tell that I’m going to refer to as “mischief mode”. Whenever Jax wants to cause mischief, his face will portray the tell of “mischief mode”, which is portrayed by his eyes and mouth sharpening into crescent shapes. In "mischief mode”, Jax sports a Cheshire grin, and his eyes squint a bit, creating crescents for every facial feature. He does this when he’s teasing the circus members, or about to cause mischief, which usually involves one of the circus members. Even when Jax isn’t smiling, if the corners of his mouth look sharp or pointed, he’s likely still looking to cause mischief.

But what about when Jax isn’t trying to cause mischief? Well, in practically every other scene we see Jax in, that doesn’t involve mischief, he looks bored. Jax wears expressions that range around boredom, apathy, curiosity, annoyance, and anger. Many times, when I’ve watched Jax’s character, I’ve found myself wondering if chronic boredom was ever a reason for him to do what he does. Especially since he almost seems to chase anything that is new or exciting. He does have limits though, as he’s shown in the pilot immediately booking it when he sees the abstracted Kaufmo.

Speaking of, I do want to talk about his actions in the pilot a bit. As well as his overall attitude toward adventures. With the gather the gloinks adventure, Jax approaches it with a level of apathy. The gloinks are so uninteresting for him, that he barely cares when the gloinks basically kidnap Zooble. Although, you could argue that everyone held a bit of apathy toward Zooble’s kidnapping by gloink, except for Gangle. Afterall, literally everyone just stood there and watched it happen, and Gangle was the only one even remotely looking distressed about Zoobles predicament. If anything, Jax is the only one who calls attention to Zoobles kidnapping by saying “oh no, they killed Zooble. Anyway you guys wanna get something to eat?”

In the pilot he seems to hold a sort of “no matter what happens, they’ll be fine” mindset, which is likely due to the nature of the digital world. Afterall, it seems that the only real way to “die” in the digital world is by abstracting. We as the viewer, see the characters of the digital circus go through things that’d kill a person in the real world. Such as falling from high heights, getting run over, getting eaten, and being slammed into the walls and floor. At worst this can jumble their characters code, making them glitch. However, outside of that, it would seem that physical harm has no real lasting consequences. And Jax, who is already accustomed to the digital world, knows this. Hell, with how often the circus crew gets thrown around on adventures, it wouldn’t surprise me if he ended up finding humor in the misfortune others face and experience. In fact, I’d argue that he does find humor in it, because he does go out of his way to cause that misfortune sometimes.

Getting back on topic, Jax’s approach to the Pilot’s adventure is one of apathy, and he didn’t care about it so much that he elected himself to check on Kaufmo with Ragatha and Pomni instead of participating. The only reason Jax ends up participating in the Gloink adventure at all, is because Kaufmo abstracted. The fact he flees within moments of finding out Kaufmo abstracted, implies that abstracted members are one of the few great dangers within the digital circus. It’s only emphasized more with Ragatha getting glitched after being thrown around by the abstracted Kaufmo. The next time we see Jax in the pilot, he’s running. He checks behind himself as if to make sure he isn’t being chased, before addressing Gangle and Kinger.

How Jax goes about this interaction is interesting to me, and I think it’s what made people think he wasn’t all that bad when all we had was the pilot. When Gangle asks Jax about Kaufmo, he lies about it, saying “oh he’s doing great”. Jax says that with a lot of sarcasm though, dragging out the “great” and making exaggerating gestures. I think Jax lies here because he knows that if he drops the truth here, he’s just going to be questioned. Gangle and Kinger would likely be distressed at the news, making them less likely to move. And Kaufmo is still roaming around the tent. When Jax hears Kaufmo’s growls, he quickly forces himself into mischief mode, using the bowling ball to get both Kinger and Gangle down the “Zooble hole”. Jax then quickly joins them, not only successfully removing all of them from the tent area, but also hiding them from Kaufmo’s abstraction.

A lot of people tend to write off Jax as an asshole, yet his actions seem to show him caring at least a little bit about the people around him. Afterall, if he didn’t care about them, he wouldn’t have forced Kinger and Gangle down the “Zooble hole” with him. He would’ve just left them there, where they’d likely run into Kaufmo and end up like Ragatha, who was left glitched and distorted in the hallway of the living quarters.

Now, you might be thinking “yeah he’s an asshole, not a monster. But what about episode 2? He basically terrorized Pomni and Gangle the whole time”. To which I’d say “funny you bring up episode 2”.

In episode 2, you’re right, we do get a lot of Jax being an ass. However, I’d like to point out what the adventure was called. “Candy Carrier Chaos”. I’m gonna emphasize a very important word here. “Candy Carrier Chaos”. Now, I’m going to preface this by saying, I’m pretty sure Jax is a literal thinker. He doesn’t sugar coat anything he says, in fact, he’s sometimes brutally honest. In episode 3, when Caine told them they had to collect paranormal activity, Jax took it as having to Capture all the ghosts. So when he’s given the adventure called “Candy Carrier Chaos”, where he has to track down a bunch of bandits and take back what they stole; Jax is stoked. The title, and general premise of the adventure implies that it’ll be a high action, high stakes adventure, with fighting, death, and well, chaos. So he goes into this adventure with that expectation, which is why he looks so apathetic until princess Loolilalu brings out the modded syrup tanker. From that point “mischief mode” is on until they go over the cliff and land in the fudge below.

Now I know you’re thinking “OP, Jax literally throws Pomni out of the truck”. You're right, however I think Pomni was only targeted here because Ragatha literally offered her by saying “I’m sure there’s something you could do to help out” in reference to the adventure. Jax, who’s more on the idea of pulling a vehicle heist, and realizing he’ll need an extra set of hands to help him if he wants to do it, just takes the offer. Now, you gotta remember Jax’s mindset regarding member safety. Which is that “they can’t really die or get hurt in a way that matters (that is to say, physically disabled or restricted due to injury), so no matter what happens, they’ll be fine.”

Now, this isn’t a healthy mindset in the slightest, but there is a bit of logic there. Pomni is still new and doesn’t know this yet, so she’s understandably hurt and confused by Jax’s actions. Which is why she doesn’t see Jax as someone who would be there for her, and we see this with Jax’s hand missing in this scene.

But this isn’t about Pomni, this is about Jax.

Now, once the truck goes over the cliff, everyone is on the outside of the truck. With the fudge monster, it looks like Jax is like, scraping the bottom of the barrel for what chaos he can cause. The most he could do was yoink Ragatha’s key to the Kingdom with the promise to let the fudge monster into the kingdom if he helps them capture the gummy gators. It’s a promise he makes good on, and it ends up being the last laugh he gets for causing chaos in this episode.

Now, with episode 3, we unfortunately don’t get a lot of Jax. from what we do get, we see him follow the premise of the adventure, vacuuming up ghostly under the idea that “collecting paranormal activity” meant “capturing the ghosts”. Ragatha scolds him for it, and when they have to choose between the 2 doors, Jax uses Gangle’s mask to see if the scary door was rigged or something. It was, as the door turned into a giant mouth, consuming Gangle’s mask, never to be seen again. This kicks off the plot, where Kinger and Pomni get separated from the group. I’d like to point out that this is the second time in a row that Jax’s actions has caused Pomni to get separated from the rest of the group. However Jax had no way of knowing that Kinger and Pomni would end up getting forced down the scary door. Once again though, his apathy toward them is made clear when all he has to say after this is “oh that’s the scary door”.

The next time we see Jax, he’s tied up and struggling against the rope. And if I had to guess, he probably just wanted to get free to capture the other ghost that Ragatha and Gangle had a tea party with. As soon as they all left Martha Mildenhall’s room, Jax stopped struggling. While he was tied up though, Jax’s expression ranged from enraged, to annoyed.

I’d also like to point out another little detail I noticed. And it’s that Jax gets visibly annoyed whenever someone has an emotional moment. He gets annoyed when Kaufmo’s funeral is brought up, he gets annoyed when Pomni explains why she wants to bring Gumigoo back with her. He gets annoyed when Pomni thanks Ragatha for being concerned about her. It’s almost like he gets annoyed at emotional vulnerability. And boy do I wonder why this purple twink has such a strong reaction to emotional vulnerability. I mean, there’s only a few times that Jax is seen being emotionally vulnerable himself, and each of these instances are at most, a second or 2 long.

This brings me to the 4th episode, which is the most recent episode as of posting this. This is also probably the most interesting episode for Jax’s character so far, as he seems to take it down a notch when it comes to the mischief he usually makes.

The episode begins with Jax, Gangle, and Ragatha chilling in the common area. Jax wielding a baseball bat, and Ragatha trying to teach Gangle how to throw a baseball. While Ragatha verbally walks Gangle through the motions of throwing the ball, Jax says “you’re wasting your time Raggy”, in a teasing manner. Keep in mind, this is the first time we’re seeing the characters engage in actual play with one another. And Jax does seem to just want to play in the moment. Hell, I’d say he’s being very patient, waiting for Ragatha to teach Gangle to throw so he can hit the ball. He’s also displaying emotions outside his usual range. During this bit he has a neutral, focused, or curious expression, which I’d say is indicative of him just wanting to play a game. The only “Mischief Mode” tell present here is his smile, but his eyes aren’t squinted in the crescent shape that indicates it. So it’s very likely that he’s just having fun here.

When Gangle finally throws the ball, Jax swings the bat, hits the ball with his eyes closed, and the ball hits Gangle in the face. Ragatha immediately scolds Jax, assuming he did it on purpose. Jax immediately defends himself saying “I actually didn’t mean to do that”, but Ragatha doesn’t seem to care that it was an accident, and only sees that Jax hurt a circus member again. So the 2 start fighting, with Ragatha stating her anger at Jax for always hurting the other members, and Jax arguing that this time was an accident, and that if it were on purpose he would’ve been proud of it. Which implies that Jax wasn’t proud of the fact that he hurt Gangle here. He probably was just trying to play a game.

Outside of that, episode 4 has a lot of Jax scenes that show similar and different sides to him. We see him still get up to some mischief when he throws Ragatha in the deep fryer, but after that we see a more chill version of Jax. His expressions also visually seem more strained or forced in some scenes, which might allude to what Gooseworx meant when she said Jax would get worse as the episodes went on. When Gooseworx said that originally, people thought that the pranks and mischief Jax would cause would get more and more extreme, to the point where he crosses a serious line. However, I think that Jax’s “Mischief Mode” is a mask in it of itself, which was meant to cover up his feelings and emotions. And we as the viewer will see that mask slip more and more, as Jax’s mental state steadily declines. You see, Kaufmo was an example of what happens when you don’t have a support group in the digital world, and no one likes Jax. So why would any of the circus members try to be there for him? He’s not once shown to have any care for them in their eyes. To them, all he’s done is tease them, bully them, and sometimes even intentionally put them in harm's way. Even in moments where it wasn’t intentional on his part. I’ll admit, this does make me nervous for his character moving forward, but while Gooseworx said he’d get worse, she didn’t say he won’t get better. I really do want to see Jax get some positive character development, or even just get some more concrete reasons behind Jax’s behaviour.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #jax #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus jax #digital circus #gooseworx #jax character analysis #character analysis #might reblog with sound file of me reading this out loud if anyone asks for it

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awkwardauthorwrites · 1 year ago

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What If (You Were Made For Me)

Word Count: 6.2k

Themes: pining, angst if you squint, two idiots in love, fluff

Summary: Halsin realises he’s in love with his best friend, Tav

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol. Like one swear word. I almost made myself cry writing this.

(I haven’t written since The Devil Doesn’t Bargain, please be nice. BG3 and specifically this druid has me in a chokehold, your honour I love this man, I am feral for him, he consumes my every waking and sleeping thought)

Halsin watched Tav from across the campfire, his brow furrowed as she spoke to Astarion with a smile on her face. She had been avoiding him recently and no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn’t seem to put a finger on why. It had started small, with going on supply runs with anyone except for him until she gradually stopped training with him, she steered clear of his favourite parts of camp, and eventually it built up to her making excuses to not spend any more time with him than completely necessary. The explanations she gave always sounded sincere, but it had all been happening for weeks, and now there she was, sitting on the opposite end of the campfire instead of next to him and laughing and talking with Astarion.

He felt himself begin to frown as Tav gave Astarion a playful shove, a laugh escaping her as the rogue tried to wrap an arm around her shoulders to pull her back in. He watched with bated breath as Tav’s eyes lit up when Astarion held his hand out in front of her again, slowly showing her how he twirled a coin in between his fingers and how to make it look like it disappeared with a flourish. Halsin couldn’t understand it - it felt like only a few weeks ago that Tav and Astarion had regarded each other with cool indifference, but ever since the days they took to recuperate she had practically been glued to the rogue’s side. Tav took the coin from Astarion and attempted the sleight of hand herself, her face one of pure concentration. She made it to the final turn of the coin before she fumbled it and it slipped from her grasp, a low groan slipping from her as it fell to the floor.

Halsin didn’t want to admit how he was feeling as he watched them interact, but he hated it. His chest felt tight and his gut rolled with anger and jealousy. Especially when Astarion leant in to murmur something in Tav’s ear, his voice too low for Halsin to hear what he had said to make her face flush the most delicate shade of pink. She laughed again and shook her head, her nose wrinkling the way it did when she found something unbelievable. She nudged Astarion again, softer this time as he scoffed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head as she let the pale elf know she would be right back before she wandered into the treeline. Halsin watched her disappear from sight and wanted nothing more than to follow her and ask her what had happened, to figure out when everything had changed between them. The thing in his chest clenched tighter at his heart with every second she was gone and he was torn between waiting for her return or going after her.

“You know,” Astarion drawled, breaking Halsin out of his thoughts. “You can go after her, if you’d like.”

“And you can mind your own business,” Halsin snaps back, feeling unlike himself as he glares at the rogue. “She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, especially when she’ll only be gone a few moments.” To his credit, Astarion doesn’t flinch at the druid’s harsh tone or at the way his eyes flash gold in warning to reveal the beast that is itching to be released.

“Oh?” Astraion smirks, his fingers twirling the coin Tav had been holding earlier with practised ease. “With the way you’re acting like a scorned lover I never would have guessed. Green may be your colour but jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Halsin’s fists clench by his side and before he can even think about what he’s doing he’s stood from his seat and stalking his way across to Astarion, his jaw tight with anger and annoyance. The more rational part of his brain is telling him to calm down, that he can’t beat Astarion to a pulp just because he had struck a (annoyingly accurate) nerve, but the bear inside him is fighting its way out and wants to -

“Halsin,” Tav’s voice rings out from behind him, her tone sharp. He stops a few steps away from Astarion and turns to face her, his ire slowly seeping away as he looks at her. She looks equal parts confused and concerned at his out of character anger, although she also seems to be a little annoyed with him too from the glare she’s giving him. “I don’t know what Astarion said to piss you off, and I’m sure he deserves the punch you’re about to give him, but why don’t we leave the violence for the near daily threats we face, hm?” Her eyebrow is raised and she looks less than amused at the scene in front of her while Astarion dramatically places a hand on his chest, feigning outrage at her words.

“I…I apologise,” he mutters, embarrassment settling in his gut at his behaviour. He risks a glance at Astarion, who is watching him with vague interest and a hint of a smirk, before shaking his head and turning back to Tav. “I don’t know what came over me.” Her gaze softens as he looks back at her and she takes a few steps forward until she’s right in front of him, standing closer than she has been in weeks. Her hand grasps one of his fists to loosen his body language and she gently tugs at his sleeve.

“Come take a walk with me.” It’s not so much a request as a demand as she lets go of his sleeve and takes his hand in hers and begins to pull him away from the campfire. Astarion begins to whistle the tune for a bawdy ballad and without missing a step Tav leans down to grab a rock and throws it at his head. She doesn’t stop to see if it hit him or not (because of course it didn’t, thanks to his ability to uncannily dodge every blow that comes his way) and leads Halsin into the treeline, ignoring how loudly Astarion is laughing behind them.

“What’s happening? Is something wrong?” Her touch is like magic, and if he didn’t know any better he would think she’s cast a spell on him with how fast the tension leaves his body as he wraps his hand around hers. All the anger, the annoyance, the jealousy that he had been feeling earlier fades away as she pulls him deeper into the woods until they come across the small river they use to wash up in.

“You tell me,” she says, letting go of his arm once they reach their destination. She turns to face him, a fire in her eyes as she crosses her arms and looks up at him. “You’re the calmest person I have ever met. So tell me why you were about to swing at Astarion with more anger than I saw you direct at Minthara when she tried to raze the Grove to the ground.”

“Astarion-” Halsin breaks off, feeling slightly uneasy with the glare she’s directing at him. He had seen her use the look more times than he could count, but it was never directed at him. “It was nothing. It was stupid.”

“Clearly it wasn’t nothing because you looked seconds away from shifting into your bear form and ripping him to shreds,” she snaps. Halsin’s head dips down and he runs a hand through his hair warily as her tone suddenly makes him feel like he’s a boy all over again being chided by his tutors. Tav sighs and she steps forward slightly, her hand brushing his. “Look at me,” she says softly, the anger draining out of her voice.

Halsin lifts his head fractionally to look at her and sees nothing but kindness and concern in her gaze. Her expression is soft as she steps closer, and he itches to pull her into his arms and never let go but he can’t. He can’t because she is his closest friend and he doesn’t want to scare her away and despite believing the heart should be able to roam free he isn’t sure if hers belongs to Astarion or not and he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“What did he say?” Tav asks again, her voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you that angry before, Hal, so it can’t have been stupid.” Halsin’s heart thuds in his chest as she steps so close he can feel the heat from her body, and the way the nickname she’s given him rolls off her lips makes him want to fall to her feet and beg for forgiveness.

“He called me a scorned lover,” he mumbles angrily, turning away from her again. His face feels hot under her gaze and he doesn’t have it in him to watch her reaction as he repeats the rogue’s words. “He insinuated I was jealous of him because you’re spending more time with him than me.”

“Oh.” Tav blinks, clearly not expecting that answer and stumbles back a few steps, her teeth tugging at her lower lip in a nervous habit that set Halsin on edge every time she did it. “So you...you were going to hit him? Because he made some false, asinine insinuation that he and I were together and I had tossed you aside?” Halsin can’t tell if she sounds angry or not and he’s suddenly apprehensive at replying to her. He can usually read her like the back of his hand - and she can do the same for him - so why couldn’t he tell what was running through her mind right now?

“Is it false?” he asks, turning to face her again, his voice quiet. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, you’ve been spending your time with him. How could I not think that?” Halsin knows he’s said the wrong thing the minute the fire flashes back in her eyes and she steps closer to him again, her finger prodding him in the chest as she speaks.

“So what if I was seeing him? We’re not together Halsin, we never have been. You don’t get to throw punches at every person I meet just because I spend a little time with them!” Her voice rises steadily as she speaks and she turns her back on him and takes a few steps away, a hand running through her hair in frustration before she whirls back to face him. “I’m not seeing Astarion, by the way, and not that it matters, but I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“So why not me?” he blurts out, his eyes shining gold in suppressed rage. “Why is he the one you spend your time with and not me? Why does he get to steal you away from me? Why can’t I be the one to make you laugh for hours and be the sole recipient of your affection and time?”

“You-” Tav lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re joking, right? I’ve waited months - months - for you to stop looking at me like a child that needs protection. For you to look at me the way I’ve wanted you to since the moment we first spoke properly at that party after we saved the tieflings and the Grove. And now you start acting like you want me back?” She’s not shouting, but every word has Halsin flinching as if she had. “Now that I’ve finally decided I shouldn’t pine after you anymore because I’m nothing more than your best friend and you’ll never look at me the way I want you to?”

“You…” Halsin can feel his heart pudding in his chest at her revelation. He feels like someone has just yanked a rug out from underneath him and he’s free falling, but at the same time his heart soars knowing she feels the same way as he does. That she wants him just as much as he wants her. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He reaches out so he can touch her, so he can hold her. “I never thought…I didn’t want to let myself hope-”

“How could I tell you?” She steps away before he can touch her and he swears his heart cracks as her eyes go misty and tears begin to well up. “You’re my best friend, Halsin. How was I supposed to tell you that somewhere along these months of travelling you’ve tripped me up and I’m head over heels in love with you?” The tears fall down her face and she wipes at them angrily. “How was I supposed to tell you that after you slept with someone else only a few days after I drunkenly came onto you?”

He feels his heart shatter at the sight of her tears, as he vaguely recalls the evening she’s talking about. They had stopped for a much needed break at a tavern and every single one of them had gotten ridiculously drunk as they unwound for the night. She had come up to him, her face red from either the alcohol or nerves and had run a hand down his chest in a way that set every nerve of his alight as she seductively murmured in his ear and asked him to join her in her rooms for the night. He had declined, even though every part of him screamed not to. He didn’t want her to regret things in the morning when she woke and had a clear head, he didn’t want to put their friendship at risk like that. A few nights later in the same tavern an elven warrior had come over to him when they were all significantly less drunk and had barely finished propositioning him before he whisked them away to a room for the night.

“Tav,” his voice is hoarse and he feels like someone is running a sword through him. She never brought up asking him to sleep with her in the following days and he had assumed that meant she was embarrassed or didn’t remember doing it. When the elf had come up to him later and asked the same from him he never stopped to think about how it would make her feel. How it would look to anyone else. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks eventually, “because you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” she takes another step away from him as he tries to get closer. “I’m not proud of it, and seeing your face drop every time I made an excuse not to be around you felt like someone was shoving a dagger into my heart,” she puts her hand to her chest, the tears falling freely down her face now, “but I had to do it. You…you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more and I couldn’t be around you because it killed me to know you would never feel the same. The final nail in the coffin was when you slept with that elf. They were fucking stunning and I knew then you would never want me like I want you.”

“How can you say I don’t want you like that?” he rasps. “Have you not seen the way I’ve looked at you? Do you know how much effort it took to resist you?” He tries to inch closer to her, his body screaming to wipe her tears away and pull her into a tight embrace.

“Congratulations, would you like a medal?” Her tone is sarcastic as she slips away from his touch yet again. “Well done on showing some restraint with me when the Oak Father knows you’ll fuck anyone else with a pulse.” Her breathing is heavy as she glares at him in equal parts anger and heartbreak. “You thought Astarion and I had something going on and you almost ripped him to shreds. Imagine how it felt for me, watching you take someone else to your bed.”

“You’re right,” he admits. “How many times have I done this to you? How many times have I pushed you away, assuming I know what’s best for you when you’re more than capable of deciding yourself who you want to sleep with. Who you want to be with.” He takes a deep breath and he lowers his walls so she can see just how much she means to him. “You’re everything I want - everything I have ever wanted. And you always will be.” His words have the opposite effect he was hoping for and she sinks to the ground, a gut-wrenching sob leaving her as she covers her face and begins to cry.

He falls to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out to pull her into his embrace and tell her just how in love with her he is, but he hesitates inches away knowing she will only pull further away from him if he follows through. His hands land uselessly at his lap and he feels his own eyes burn as tears threaten to well up at the sound of her anguish. He blinks them away, he hasn’t earned the right to be upset, not when he’s hurt her so deeply.

“I understand if you don’t believe me,” he says instead, his voice low and full of emotion. “If you tell me to leave right now, I will. Or if it will make you feel better to yell at me some more I’ll stay and take it. I’ll do whatever you want - whatever you need.” He pauses, hoping the words he’s about to say don’t hurt her further. “Please believe me, Tav.”

“Would you have told me?” she asks, her voice thick with tears. “If you hadn’t thought I was with Astarion, would you have ever told me?” She looks up at him and her red-rimmed eyes only cleaves his heart further in two. “If you didn’t think my heart belonged to somebody else would you even have realised how you feel about me?” He pauses as she speaks; he doesn’t want to lie to her, but he knows in his soul she won’t be pleased with the answer he’s going to give her.

“No,” he whispers eventually. “It took seeing you with him to realise I was in love with you, and I wish every day that I hadn’t needed that reminder. I should have seen it the moment we met, the way you made me feel…” He lets out a shaky breath and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m an idiot.” Tav inhales sharply at his words and nods to herself, her jaw clenching tightly as if she’s trying to stop herself from falling apart again.

“Well, you won’t hear any arguments from me.” She looks up at him for a few seconds before she looks away again, tears welling back in her eyes as she stands up. “I’m tired. I’m going back to camp.” She doesn’t ask him to follow her, but he does anyway, stumbling to his feet as he follows her back through the trees. He walks in silence by her side as she leads them back to camp, his body heavy and his mind spinning. The one person he wanted in the world was right next to him and he had never felt so far away from her. They return to the camp and all eyes are on them, especially when they take note of the tears that have yet to dry on Tav’s face.

Astarion sits up as she walks over to him and throws her arms around his shoulders and begins to sob into his shirt. The vampire clearly doesn’t know how to react, but after a moment he wraps his arms back around Tav and holds her close, walking her away so that everyone in camp isn’t privy to her breakdown. Halsin bites the inside of his cheek and looks away as Astarion does what he can’t and comforts Tav as she cries. He knows now that she doesn’t have romantic feelings for the pale elf, but that doesn’t stop his chest from clenching tightly as Astarion’s hands rest on her waist and run through her hair comfortingly.

“You’re an idiot, you know,” Shadowheart sidles up to him, her tone dry. She has an unamused expression on her face as she stares up at Halsin, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Karalch gives her a gentle nudge and offers Halsin an apologetic smile.

“I know,” he agrees instantly. “I want nothing more than to give her the comfort he’s providing her right now, and it breaks my heart that I’ve caused her this much pain without even realising it. Seeing Astarion hold her like that…I wish it was me, but I’m glad she kind find some solace in someone here.”

“She doesn’t love him, you know. They’re only friends.” Shadowheart nods her head towards Tav and Astarion. “He’s been trying to help her catch your eye for a while now.” Halsin blinks, the information catching him off guard.

“Astarion is trying to help her?”

“And you,” Shadowheart turns her head to glare at him. “Astarion has been trying to help her with her confidence so she could test the waters and flirt a little with you. And then you had to go and reject her when she finally tried to tell you how she felt only to sleep with someone else a few days later?” The cleric looks mad now, and Halsin has no doubt in his mind that if they were in a more secluded part of the camp she would be yelling and cursing him out for treating Tav the way he had.

“Nothing I say will ever be able to erase what I did, no matter how much I wish it could.” He lets out a sigh and looks over at Astarion and Tav again. The rogue has pulled her across the camp to her tent and through the open flaps he can see she’s lying down on her bedroll, her head in Astarion’s lap as his fingers run through her hair. “How long has he been trying to help?”

“Does it matter?” Shadowheart asks, her tone sharp. “You never even looked twice at Tav until you thought Astarion was interested in her. No one wants to be made a choice after they become unobtainable - or in this case assumedly unobtainable.” There’s a soft expression on Astarion’s face as he comforts Tav, one Halsin has never seen before. For a split second he wonders if she’s better off without him in her life, whether that’s as a friend or more, but the selfish part of him can’t bear to leave her.

“Just give her some time, soldier,” Karlach steps forward, ignoring the glare Shadowheart shoots at her. “She’s hurt, it won’t do any good to speak to her right now, you’ll only push her further away. Give her a few days.” He gives Karlach a nod and looks back over at the campsite, wanting to disappear into the trees and give Tav the space she clearly needs, no matter how much it will hurt him.

Shadowheart and Karlach walk away, leaving Halsin alone again. He watches Astarion cup Tav’s face in her hands and wipe away the last of her tears, muttering something he’s too far away to hear before he kisses her on the forehead. Tav lets out a weak laugh and shakes her head, and the scene grips Halsin’s chest painfully tight. He shakes his head and walks back into the treeline, his eyes glowing gold as he shifts into his cave bear form and darts into the woods.

One Week Later

Halsin trudges back into camp, feeling weary and more than a little exhausted, and is a little surprised to see everything is still in its place and the group hasn’t moved on without him. He shifts back into his elf form, shuddering slightly as his body protests and walks towards his tent, giving awkward smiles and nods to Gale and Jaheira, who wave in greeting at him.

“Hey, soldier!” Karlach grins when she sees him, raising her tankard of ale in greeting as she bounds over. “Welcome back, it’s good to see you.” For a moment it looks like she’s about to pull Halsin into a hug, but decides against it at the last minute. She watches his eyes dart around the camp, no doubt looking for Tav or even Astarion, and his hopeful expression falls when he sees neither. “She’s in town gathering supplies,” the tiefling lowers her voice considerably so no one can hear them. “We’re running a little low after she all but forced us to stay here and wait for you to come back.” Halsin looks at her in surprise, but she just shrugs as if she hadn’t said anything and takes another sip of her drink.

“I assume Astarion has gone with her?”

“You assume wrong.” The white-haired elf walks by, a book in his hands. “I’d say it’s good to see you again but…” Astarion grimaces and takes in Halsin’s dishevelled appearance. A week of wandering through the woods as a bear has left him looking more than a little worse for wear, with dirt and dust covering him from head to toe, and what felt like a small bird’s nest worth of twigs tangled in his hair. “You look like shit. You should get cleaned up before she’s back, the gods know she’ll only be more upset at you dragging yourself back here looking half dead.” He walks away and settles outside his tent, sipping idly from a glass of wine as he continues to read.

“Wyll went with her,” Karlach fills the awkward silence. “We needed a lot, so he’s gone to help her carry everything.” Her gaze softens as she looks him over, taking note of his tangled hair and the dust on his clothes. “She’s missed you, you know. She’ll be glad you’re back.” Halsin feels something in his chest loosen at the words and he hopes the barbarian is right.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Soon, probably. I’m not saying Astarion was right but uh…you might want to consider getting cleaned up before then. No offence,” Karlach wrinkles her nose playfully and Halsin can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, the sound foreign to his ears. He runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he catches on a large knot and lets out a quiet sigh. The thought of Tav coming back to see the state he’s in pushes him to move, and he mutters a quick see you later to Karlach before making his way to his tent to grab some clean clothes and his supplies.

He’s soon down by the river, trying not to think about the last time he stood there and the heartbreak on Tav’s face as he strips down and scrubs the week in the forest from his body and his dirty clothes. He pulls more twigs and leaves out than he thought possible and it isn’t long before he’s walking back to camp, a towel slung over his shoulder and his now cleaned and dry outfit in his hands while he wears fresh clothes. Karlach is still drinking when he returns, her feet propped up on a bench as she basks in the sun, Shadowheart curled beside her as she sips from her own goblet.

“Halsin?” He would recognise her voice anywhere. He turns around to see Tav a few feet away, a large supply pack hanging from her shoulder. It falls to the floor with a thump as she takes a hesitant step forward. “Is it really you? Are you back?” Her voice is as soft as a whisper, and he barely registers as Wyll picks her discarded pack up and walks away, giving them both some much needed space. Halsin feels like his heart is caught in his throat. All at once he wants to pull her into his arms, he wants to fall to the floor in front of her and beg forgiveness, he wants to hide from her again but he also wants to yell from the mountains that he loves her and will do anything to fix what he broke.

“Oak Father’s blessings, Tav,” he places his fist on his chest in greeting, his voice hoarse. He takes a small step closer to her before hesitating. He wants her to decide where they go from here. She is all he wants, but he doesn’t want to push himself onto her. He doesn’t have time to finish the thought in his head before she’s dashing across the camp and throwing herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly, her legs dangling because of their height difference. Her head is buried in his neck and for a moment he forgets how to breathe let alone hug her back. He’s stunned for a few moments, and more than a little relieved that she hasn’t outright told him to shove off, and his arms wrap around her waist, holding her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t reply, and instead she holds onto him a little tighter and he can feel the collar of his short go damp as she begins to cry silently. His eyes slip closed as he pulls her closer and he wills himself to keep it together as he uses one of his arms to grip her legs, prompting her to wrap them around his waist so that they aren’t dangling in midair. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart stuttering as she doesn’t pull away or snap at him not to touch her and he’s only vaguely aware that the rest of the camp is being ushered away by Shadowheart and Karlach so the pair can have their moment. Once everyone has disappeared, Tav pulls back and steps out of Halsin’s arms. He itches to pull her back but the glare she’s sending him makes him reconsider.

“Don’t ever do that again!” she snaps, pushing him slightly. She doesn’t do it with enough force to move him, but surprise and confusion flits across his face. “You can’t just disappear like that for a week, Halsin! No one knew where you were, you didn’t leave a note - what if something had happened to you? How was I supposed to know you weren’t hurt or captured or even dead?”

His mouth flops open uselessly at her reprimand, an apology on the tip of his tongue that suddenly feels unbearingly inadequate. He can see it on the exhaustion on her face, in the dark rings under her eyes. He thought leaving and giving her some space was the right thing to do, but just like when he had slept with that elf he hadn’t stopped to consider how it would make her feel. At the time he didn’t think she would care he was gone - she was an inconsolable wreck when he left - he hadn’t realised that Tav, let alone anyone else, would have no way of getting into touch with him while he was away. The silence between them is so loud that his ears ring, and yet he still can’t find the words to say. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover the pain he’s put her through.

“You’re… you’re not hurt, right?” she asks, the anger leaving her voice as she stares at him, assessing him for any damage that she can’t see. He tries to respond with a quip or a clever comment, but he can’t. The guilt weighs too heavy on his heart right now.

“My pride, perhaps.” He offers her a weak smile as she scrutinises him. “I didn’t mean to worry you while I was away. I just wanted to give you some space.” She opens her mouth to reply but it seems it’s her turn to be unsure of what to say. She wraps her arms around her waist and looks around at the now empty camp and tilts her head towards the unlit fire.

“We should probably talk. I promise I won’t shout and poke you this time.” A weak smile falls on her lips as she makes her way over and sits down on one of the logs. Halsin gives her a weak smile and follows, sitting on the tree stump opposite her. He has so many thoughts rushing through his mind, so many things he wants to say to her, but when he opens his mouth to say them all that comes out is an incoherent mumble followed by a low sigh.

“I don’t know where to start, either,” she laughs nervously and runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry for how I reacted last week. I didn’t mean to explode on you. It’s not an excuse, but I was just so hurt and angry and I felt a little betrayed and…I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“Maybe,” she gives him a faint, teasing smile and he feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Hal…” She hesitates again, chewing on her lower lip. “Did you mean what you told me? When you said I was everything you want and that you-” she breaks off, her face flushing, but the words hang in the air. Did he mean it when he said he loved her? His face softens and he nods.

“I did. I meant every word and I still do.” His voice is soft as he slides into a seat closer to her and holds a hand out in offering. He’ll let her decide if she wants to take it. From here on out she makes the calls on where they stand. He can live with being just a friend to her if it means having her in his life. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me anymore, given all that’s happened, but I want you to know.” She fidgets in her seat and her face turns the most enticing shade of pink as she places her hand in his and squeezes gently. Halsin has to struggle not to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, but he reminds himself that she’s in charge here.

“I meant what I said too. Somewhere along the way while we’ve travelled I...I just fell so hard and fast for you. You mean the entire world to me, Hal. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She swallows and looks up at him and how did he ever think she didn’t have feelings for him when she looked at him like that? He was blind to have not seen it before. “I’m not going to lie, it stings that you only wanted me after you thought I was taken by someone else. But...I’m selfish. I love you, Hal. I-I’m putting my heart on the line here, I want to be with you. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

“Tav,” he whispers, pushing himself to his knees in front of her. “My heart does not stir easily, but…” he pauses to let out a quiet, warm chuckle. “I feel like it never truly started beating until I met you. Nature outdid itself with you, and the Oak Father will have truly blessed me if he allowed you to be by my side. My heart is yours, as is every other part of me.” Tav lets out a breathless laugh at his words and sinks down so she is also kneeling in front of him, her hand winding around his shoulders so she can fiddle with his unbound hair.

“And mine is yours,” she murmurs, a smile flitting across her face as his hands come to rest on her waist. He pulls her onto his lap like he’s wanted to since he first realised he had fallen for her, and he’s rewarded with a beautiful blush and coy smile.

“You’re all I want. I don’t even want to look at anyone else but you.” He leans in, his lips brushing across her jaw softly before he places a kiss on her cheek. “My love, my heart, my soul; they’re all yours.” Her breathing hitches and her fingers tangle themselves in her hair in response and she leans in, her lips a breath away from his

“Halsin, may I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would ask.” He closes the gap between them, his lips brushing hers tenderly once, twice and a third time before he grips her hips and kisses her like he’ll never have the chance to again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of her hands in his hair, or the sweet sounds she makes as he pulls her impossibly closer, but he relishes the feeling all the same as they more than make up for their lost time.

#halsin fanfiction #halsin x tav #halsin x y/n #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x fem!reader #halsin fluff #halsin angst #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 8 months ago

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hi. I heard you answer questions about sex ed and I can't ask anyone this irl since none of my friends talk about any sex that isn't super cishet and allo.

I'm kind of worried I'm asexual and of course I'm ok with other people doing whatever they want with their lives and not having sex whenever and however they want, but I really don't want to not have sex. Except that whenever I think about having sex with a person I'm instantly disinterested. like even fantasizing about myself having sex in a nonspecific disembodied way turns me off.

I worried for a while that it was because I was scared of my body (like a vagina-fear/dysphoria sort of thing, which was probably true) or just didn't have any sex drive, so to figure it out I started trying to masturbate when I was sixteen (my parents tracked my search history on my phone so I actually had to go to the library and find a sex ed book in the adult section and hide the cover with my jacket while I read it just to memorize the diagrams so I could figure out where the hell the clitoris was lmao) and I did like it and was capable of feeling good and orgasming and whatever. but even after I knew that it felt good and I do have a sex drive I'm still not interested in having sex with other people (I'm eighteen now for context, so its been a while). I can't think of one person I would ever even theoretically want to have sex with, including people I know, famous hot people, fictional characters, nothing. I don't want to be asexual but I feel like I have to be because I don't want to have sex with anyone. How can I be asexual if I don't want to be, or am I even asexual? what if I just have high standards, or I haven't met someone I really like yet? what if I am ace and I'm just being ace-phobic because I've internalized the cultural norms that 'sex equals humanity'? I keep having this mental loop where I think about possibly being asexual then I conclude that I'm definitely not asexual then I start thinking about it again. I know I'm supposed to define my own identity, but if I think I'm allo but all of my feelings are the types of feelings everyone says is ace, then what am I?

obviously you're not the mind-reading wizard rabbi of the internet so you can't divine my sexuality from an ask, but do you at least have any advice for figuring it out?

thanks for listening, sorry for the tmi

hi anon,

let's take a big deep breath and calm down a little, okay? it seems like you're overthinking yourself to bastard death and that's not going to help anything at all.

listen, man: the only thing that makes someone asexual is if they decide that's something they want to call themselves. like it's literally just a word to use or not use, and it sounds like you really don't want to use it. labels are meant to be helpful in letting people express something about themselves, so if a label doesn't spark joy, don't use it. simple as that. not wanting to call yourself asexual is no more phobic than me not calling myself a lesbian - I don't have a problem with lesbians, I just personally don't happen to be one.

it sounds like the main thing getting you down here is that you're 18 and like jacking off but haven't ever super wanted to have sex with someone, which is, like, oh man that's so normal. some people just don't have a very high sex drive as it pertains to other people, dude. you've likely only met an extremely small portion of the people you're going to meet in your entire life, and you're going to have feelings and relationships and experiences you can't even begin to imagine with all the people you're yet to meet.

in the meantime, let's channel all of the energy you're spending worrying about being asexual into something that will actually make your life cooler and more fun. might I recommend reading a nice book or perhaps doing some manner of art?

#sex edventures 2024

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differentdragonpeanutknight · 6 months ago

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Wu's Diary #3: About Lloyd

Another excerpt from Master Wu's diary:

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

After recovering that precious pieces from my past, I couldn't help myself but wonder why didn't Lloyd, despite being Garmadon's son and sharing the bloodline of our ancestors, didn't had any features from any of them. I was sure I heard my Father talking about this all those years ago, and if he had something to say, I certainly took notes from it.

I found the information I was looking for the next day, emerging in more of my old journals. Unfortunately it seems I completely lost one of them. Having living for centuries as I am, I should be careful and renew my wokrs on new paper. Although I'm not sure if I want my students finding out about everything from my past. Tory was the only exception to that rule (not that I had much of a choice).

Anyway, I'm replicating the same words from my journal right here:

"It has been days since Garmadon and I have been dealing with our different physiques. My brother didn't had much of a problem, of course. I'm glad for him, though. I felt like maybe I pushed him too hard, but he said he would do anything to keep Ninjago at peace.

I wish I could say the same thing for our father, though. After sparring with my brother yesterday, as I was bringing our swords to put them back in armory, I saw Father with Mystake again. She seems to be around a lot lately... I know that Father always tell us to never eavesdrop on other people affairs (especially his affairs) but I couldn't help myself.

From what I could hear, my father was afraid that someday the special tea he and Mystake had created would wear off from me and Garmadon. She tranquilized him, and said that the only way that could happen would be if another mystical force broke the balance within us. That seemed to calm him down. Then he asked 'what if one day they decide to grow a future? To have kids? Heaven knows I won't keep them away from the world outside forever.'

Mystake explained to him that even if said thing happened, the child will inherit the capabilities of the tea, too, and almost nothing can make this wear off. I hope she's right. Father still looked really tense about those probabilities."

All those years later, and Mystake was right. Even after what happened to my brother after our battle, Lloyd still looks like a complete human child. I'm glad to see that. Our family's history is already too complicated to explain, and bringing the fact of Onis, Dragons and Realms would only confuse the poor child even more. Lloyd should just enjoy his simple life.

#ninjago #oni #dragon #lego ninjago #alternate universe #au #wu ninjago #ninjago garmadon #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #first spinjitzu master #ninjago mystake #diary

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junkdrawerfics · 11 months ago

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the flustered detective

Kevin Ryan X Reader

Listen, I know this isn't Twilight, and I know this is like, a super random character that probably has such a small following, but I love him sooooo much, and had to write for him. So sue me, I'll probably write more for him.

Summary: You make Detective Ryan very nervous and everyone knows it. Even you. So yah, that's it, just a cute little fic about flustered Ryan.

Word Count: 1001

---

“Just go talk to her, man.”

Ryan jumps, jolted from his thoughts as his partner slaps him on the back. He casts Esposito a scowl, straightening his ruffled vest.

“I can’t just…talk to her,” he sighs out, defeat burning behind his tone, “I can barely get a word out when she’s around me!”

“I know,” Esposito snickers, “it’s pretty pathetic, actually.”

The glare leveled at him is deadly. Esposito holds his hands up defensively, inching away with a smirk still glued to his face.

“Sorry. Just saying. You need to man up and grow a-“

“What does Ryan need to do?”

The sound of high heels clicking along the precinct floor makes both men go stock still. Beckett rounds the corner of her desk, fine brow raised as she lets her gaze drift between the two detectives. Castle pops up behind her, smiling ear to ear, which is never a good thing.

“I believe Espo here was trying to give our friend, Ryan, a little advice on his women troubles,” he hums, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t worry, Ryan, I’m sure we can-“

“No, no no,” Ryan jumps to his feet before Castle can come up with another wild concoction of a plan. “I do not need advice from you-“ He points a finger at Javier and then spins to Castle. “And I definitely don’t need help from you, mister three divorces.”

“It was two actually…” the writer mutters, looking at his shoes like a kicked puppy.

Ryan gives him a pointed look, as if what he said sounds any better, “My point exactly. Listen, guys, I’m fine! I am perfectly capable of talking to (Y/n) myself.”

“Talking to me about what?”

The group freezes. Except Kate, who watches over the rim of her coffee cup, eyes dancing with amusement as Ryan goes beet red. You glance between the four, eyes wide with confusion as the men pass each other “looks”. They’re always so secretive, like they’re kids trying to carry out an awful plan. It’s more endearing than it is insulting, though. Esposito makes a show of shoving Ryan’s shoulder, making him face you before he saunters off to the break room.

“What’s going on, Ryan?” You ask as Beckett drags Castle off by the ear, against his dramatic protests.

“Oh, uh, with, with us? Nothing, we just um,” he coughs, blush spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. How cute. You fight back a smile, settling with a look of amusement that only seems to fluster him more. “We were just talking about a case! Yah a case. And I was going to…ask for your help?”

“Really?” You hum, head tilting ever so slightly. Ryan’s jaw clenches and he nods, lips pressed together tightly. You almost want to tease him a little more, see how far the blush goes, but you’re afraid his poor heart might give out. “Okay. I can help with your case! As long as Kate’s onboard.”

“Yah, yah, she, um, she’s totally onboard.” Ryan cringes at the lie. Hopefully Beckett won’t mind.

“Great!” You smile, sticking out your hand. “I look forward to working with you, Detective Ryan.”

He nods again, rushing to take your outstretched hand. You giggle as he fumbles. Heat creeps up Ryan’s neck, and man, he wishes he could just say something smooth like Javier, or witty like Castle, but all he can do is laugh awkwardly, heart racing a mile a minute. Just because he’s holding your hand.

He’s a grown man, he chastises himself, a detective for the NYPD. He can break down doors and take on criminals, hell, even face torture, but the feeling of your hand in his? That’s what makes him crumble.

The man looks to be seconds from passing out, you realize, chest aching with something fond. You give his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Hey,” you whisper, and those gorgeous blue eyes snap up to yours, wide and uncertain in a way you’ve never seen. It makes your chest ache even worse and your smile turns uncharacteristically soft for just a moment. “Easy tiger. You're doing great.”

That seems to help. Ryan forces his muscles to relax, taking a deep breath and nodding slowly. You give his hand one final squeeze. Your hands are so small compared to his, and not covered in calluses or scars, a thought he tries not to linger on as you slip away back to your desk. Just in time for his team to make a reappearance.

“Sooo?” Javier leans in front of him, eyebrows wagging, “What did you say, mister ‘I can talk to her myself’?”

“I um.” Ryan passes a hand over his neck, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation in his palm. Or maybe trying to lock it in his memory. “I may have…invited her onto the case?”

His partner's face falls. Esposito shakes his head, muttering disappointment under his breath, “Are you serious, man?”

“Yah, are you serious?” Kate presses, faking a frown. It’s impossible to be mad after watching that…ordeal play out. But she’s not one to miss an opportunity to mess with them. Just a little payback.

“It just-“ Ryan slumps back into his desk, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. “-happened. I didn’t know what else to say, okay? I just- I have the words in my head, and then she’s in front of me, and it’s like-“ He purses his lips, blowing out a sigh of frustration.

“It’s like everything gets scrambled and nothing fits together anymore,” Castle murmurs (casting a knowing glance towards Beckett, who returns it with a warning glare).

“Exactly. I just…I like her so much, you know?”

“Nope.”

Ryan just about socks Esposito in the face, glowering up at him, “Very helpful, Javi.”

“I understand, Ryan,” Kate offers.

“You do?” He perks up hopefully.

“Yah. I remember I had a hard time talking to this one guy I really liked…you know, back in middle school.”

Ryan groans, “I have no sanctuary.”

---

When I tell you I would die for this man-

#castle #reader insert #x reader #reader #kevin ryan #ryan #ryan x reader #kevin ryan x reader #castle tv #castle tv show #kate beckett #javier esposito #rick castle

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lupinmoonlight · 2 years ago

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Submission Part 2: Establishing Rules

Masterlist AO3 Submission Part 1 Submission Part 3: Obedience

Summary - You finally gather up the courage to approach Professor Lupin and share with him your desire to give up control to him. He agrees to take on that role for you, but not without establishing clear rules and boundaries.

Warnings - teacher/student relationship, heavy D/s undertones, professor/sir kink, rules, mention of pushing limits, mention of safeword, self-degradation, mention of masturbation, my grammar.

Notes - It is NOT necessary to read part 1 to read this part. I don't know what this is, but I am planning to make this extremely kinky so brace yourselves. I am also aware that this is very out of character for Lupin, but it's nice to have a little fun with him :')

It had become an obsession now. An unhealthy obsession. Every night, once everyone in the dormitory had drifted off to sleep, you would slip a hand down your pyjamas, touching yourself to the thoughts of your professor bending you over his desk, gripping your hips as he rammed into you, telling you to take it and calling you a good girl. It was wrong, so very wrong and filthy. But you loved it. You wanted him to take control of you, to dominate you. You were so desperate for it that you would take anything he'd give you.

In his classroom, it was even worse. Though you attempted to maintain some form of self-control, your body betrayed your inner turmoil. The slightest instruction from him would cause your cheeks to flush crimson and a familiar warmth to spread through your core to the point you sometimes had to excuse yourself to the bathroom to regain your composure. It was pathetic. You were pathetic. The feeling of self-loathing was inescapable.

But even so, you found yourself at the professor's office door. Your body seemed to possess a will of its own, determined to get what it craved the most: submission. You were terrified. What were you going to tell him? What would he say? Was he even capable of all the things you imagined him doing to you? He was the kindest and softest man you'd ever encountered. Surely, he would gaze at you with his gentle eyes, wearing an expression of concern, and wonder if you had been cursed or something. But you didn't care. It was your last year at Hogwarts and you had nothing to lose, except maybe your dignity.

With a gentle knock, the wooden door creaked open, revealing the towering figure who held your thoughts captive.

"Y/N! Good to see you. Is everything alright?"

He was already concerned. Great.

"Professor. Yes, everything is okay. I just wanted to talk to you about something," you lied.

"Of course. Come in, come in!" he said warmly.

You tentatively walked in, your knees already about to give out when the scent of him filled your nostrils. It was intoxicating.

"Cup of tea? I was just about to make myself one," he asked.

"Please, that would be great," you lied again as you sat in the chair facing his desk.

"So, what can I help you with?" he asked as he placed two steaming cups of earl grey tea on his desk before taking a seat in front of you.

You didn't know what to say. Suddenly your mind was blank and you were ready to bolt out. You took a sip of your tea to give yourself time to regain your composure and set the cup back on the desk a bit harder than intended.

"I-I haven't been…feeling myself lately…" you began.

He stayed quiet, studying your face and giving you time to continue, but you couldn't find the words. How could you tell your professor to use you, dominate you, degrade you, hurt you, love you in an appropriate and respectful manner? You couldn't.

As if sensing the seriousness of the situation, he flicked his wand casually to ward the door of his office, his eyes never leaving you.

"I don't want to be in control anymore," you finally blurted out without thinking. You closed your eyes shut and held your breath, bracing yourself for the worst.

He was quiet. Too quiet. And you felt stupid. You could feel the tension in the air, almost suffocating you. You wanted to leave, to obliviate him and yourself and go back to your pathetic fantasies.

"Look at me," his voice had changed, now carrying an authoritative tone that you hadn't heard before. You opened your eyes, hesitantly meeting his gaze. The warmth in his eyes was still there, but there was a new intensity as well.

"Can you explain what you mean by 'not wanting to be in control anymore'?" he asked, his tone surprisingly even.

You took a shaky breath and tried to put your feelings into words. "I-I want someone else to take charge. I want to be told what to do. I want to give up control, but to someone I trust."

His silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity, the tension in the room almost palpable. His gaze softened for a moment, and then his expression darkened. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his eyes piercing through you.

"You're very brave to come to me with this," he said, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "I understand that this is a significant and personal request."

He paused, considering his words carefully before continuing. "If you truly mean what I think you mean, it is highly inappropriate for a professor to engage in such a relationship with a student," he continued, his tone serious.

"However, I appreciate the trust you place in me and am willing to provide you with the guidance and structure that you need," he said sternly. "If you truly want me to take control, then I need you to understand that this isn't just about fulfilling your fantasies. This is a responsibility, and I take it seriously."

You swallowed hard, feeling a sense of relief that he didn't reject you. All you could do was nod slowly, unable to even look at him.

"Good," he said, his tone softening lightly. "Before we proceed any further, there are a few things I need to make clear," he began, "this is a choice you've made, and you have the right to change your mind at any time. I will only proceed if you are fully comfortable and consenting to everything we discuss."

Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. You nodded again. You didn't trust your voice. You didn't even trust yourself not to combust if you looked up at him, so you kept your eyes trained on the desk.

"There will be boundaries and rules that must be adhered to. For the sake of maintaining our professional relationship, these rules will differ inside and outside of the classroom," he continued, his tone shifting to a more authoritative one.

"From now on, in the classroom, you will address me as 'Professor Lupin' and behave as any other student would. No special treatment, no exceptions," he continued, his voice unwavering.

"Outside of the classroom, when we are alone, you will address me as 'Sir.' You will follow my instructions and adhere to the boundaries we set. Should you ever feel uncomfortable or wish to discuss any aspect of our arrangement, you will do so respectfully and openly."

You nodded, your pulse quickening at the thought of addressing him as 'Sir.'

He stood up and walked around the desk, stopping just a few feet away from you. "Furthermore, our arrangement will never interfere with your studies or safety. You will be expected to complete your assignments, attend classes, and maintain your grades. I will not tolerate disobedience or dishonesty, and if you fail to meet my expectations, there will be consequences."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "Do you understand and accept these terms?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes what?" he pressed, seemingly unsatisfied with your answer.

"Yes, Sir," you quickly corrected yourself, feeling a thrill at the simple act of addressing him in this new way.

"Good," he said, his voice softening slightly as he returned to his seat.

He looked at you intently, gauging your reaction. "You must understand that I will not hurt you in any way that you don't explicitly consent to. This means that we will establish a safeword or signal, something that you can use to communicate your need to stop or pause our interactions. This will be a non-negotiable aspect of our arrangement. The safeword will be 'chocolate'."

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you managed to nod, understanding the importance of his words, although you didn't think you would need a safeword. You didn't want one. You wanted to give yourself up completely, but you knew better than to argue.

"You are expected to maintain the highest level of discretion regarding our arrangement, as it is important to maintain the integrity of the student-teacher relationship in the eyes of others," he added, pausing to look you in the eye.

"I understand, Sir," you agreed, feeling a little intimidated but also excited.

"While you are under my guidance," he continued, his voice deepening with authority, "you will follow my instructions without question. You must trust me completely to provide the structure you need."

"Lastly" he said, his voice firm, "know that I will be pushing your limits, but I will always prioritize your well-being. If at any point you wish to end this arrangement, you have the right to do so without judgment or negative consequences."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care behind his words, and felt a new sense of trust and connection forming between the two of you. It felt surreal. You had been fantasizing about this, obsessing over this. But now that it was happening, you were suddenly terrified. Terrified of disappointing him, of not being good enough.

"Come here," he commanded, gesturing towards himself. You obeyed, your heart pounding as you stepped closer to him. He shifted in his chair, parting his legs for you to stand between them. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks. You had to fight yourself not to drop to your knees right then and there.

"Look at me," he instructed, tilting your chin up with his fingers. You raised your eyes to meet his, they were warm yet there was a darkness in them, a subtle reminder of his control over you. "Tomorrow in class, I want you to wear your hair up, so I can see your neck. It will serve as a reminder of our arrangement. Do you understand?"

You nodded, your breath hitching at the thought of exposing your neck just for him. "Yes, Sir."

"Additionally, you are to meet me at my quarters after dinner," he continued. "Be punctual and prepared. Is that understood?"

You swallowed hard, the anticipation growing inside you. "Yes, Sir,"

He held your gaze for a moment longer, then released your chin. With a flick of his wand, he removed the ward from the door. "You may go now," he said, his voice returning to the softness you were familiar with. "Remember our rules and your instructions."

Feeling flustered, you managed a quiet "Thank you, Sir," before turning to leave the room. As you stepped out into the hallway, your legs felt weak, and your heart raced. This was really happening, and the thought both thrilled and terrified you.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #professor remus lupin #professor remus lupin x reader #dom!remus lupin #sub!reader #d/s #teacher/student

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spqcebunsforever · 1 year ago

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My “Prince” Charming

Pairing: Billy loomis x reader

Summary: Y/n knows of Billy Loomis always seeing him in the halls or seeing him sit with his friends at lunch but she has never spoken to him. That is until she is walking home at night by herself and bumps into Prince charming himself.

Y/n’s pov

Of course, it's just my luck that I have to walk home in the dark by myself. I had been at my friend's house and we both had completely forgotten about the time and again just my luck my friend's parents hadn't been in so they couldn’t even give me a lift. So here I was scared out of my mind practically jumping at any noise that I heard. But I just kept telling myself that I was being paranoid and that everything would be fine but I still knew how long a walk I had to my house and this new killer on the loose didn't settle my nerves at all.

So I just kept my head up and tried to walk as fast as I could but suddenly I heard a twig snap behind me making my head immediately turn but there was nothing there no little small animal or just a person so I took a breath in and just told myself that I was imagining things. But when I turned around to again start walking I was now face-to-face with someone and I let out a little scream which made the boy jump a little problem not expecting it. The more I looked at the boy I realised just who it was.

Billy Loomis, I had never spoken to the boy but I had seen him in the halls or sitting with his friends at the water fountain but I had never actually spoken to him. “Oh my god I'm sorry for screaming but that's kind of what you get for sneaking up on someone” Billy chucked himself slightly and rubbed the back of his neck “Sorry didn't mean to scare you that bad but I just thought I'd come up to you, you know it is dangerous walking by yourself at night”. I gave him a quick smile “Yes well sadly I have no choice I was with my friends and her parents weren't home to give me a lift”. Billy just nodded and we stood for a second in silence just looking at each other until he started speaking again.

“Well if you want I could always walk you back home you know make sure you are safe” I couldn't tell if he was serious or not but I did like the idea of walking with someone rather than walking by myself so I nodded “well if you don't mind I would like that I've never been a fan of the dark I always feel like someone is getting ready to attack you”. I started walking and Billy started walking beside me “So why were you walking by yourself at this time if you know it's dangerous”. He just shrugged “I kinda like the dark I think it's peaceful and relaxing with everyone away and the silence except for the odd animal or something like that but you don't need to worry about me if anyone did try to attack me or something I am very capable of fighting back”. I just giggled “Well thank you so much for giving up on your peaceful and relaxing walk to make sure I get home okay your like my very own Prince Charming”.

Now that made him laugh and I don’t think I had ever heard Billy laugh until now “Prince charming that's a first do you treat every guy that saves you from walking home at night or does he have to be as charming as me to get a label like that” that in return made me laugh “Oh yes because it's just a normal thing for me to have guys sneak up on me at night and then offer to walk me home because I guess I'm just that popular” I playfully roll my eyes and I see Billy make a fake shocked face “Wow I didn't realise I was walking with such a big time celebrity we better be careful in case your fans get too possessive” he gives me a wry smile and I can't help the stupid big smile that's appeared on my face while talking to him “oh well then you better watch out my fans might not like that you were the lucky one to walk me home tonight they might get jealous”

“Jealous of me come on y/n don't make me laugh” he chuckled softly but then turned his attention back on me “But don't you worry if a jealous boy were to show up I would handle him easily quick and simple” I just playfully rolled my eyes again “ I would love to see that, that would make this night even better” Billy then let out a little laugh “well who knows maybe one day and I'll be fighting in your honour because of how much of a gentleman I am”. I again laugh “ I would love to see that just call me up and I'll be running” Billy then looked at me with a smirk on his face “And what makes you think that I would actually call?” he raised an eyebrow and waited for me to answer.

“Well, I would like to think you would call after all you are my prince charming”. His smile got even wider and he got a little bit closer to me as we continued to walk “Well if I did become your Prince charming I suppose you would have to give me a kiss goodnight, right?” I felt a small blush come on my face I thought “I guess it would” I noticed that we were not at my house and we both stopped “So, y/n we are at your house, aren't we, I don't suppose you could spare me a little goodnight kiss, could you”. I could still feel the blush on my face and I knew that I probably looked like an idiot but I tried my best to play it cool “Well I can't say no to my prince charming now can I” I kissed him on the cheek “thank you so much for walking me home you are such a gentleman Billy Loomis”.

Billy had a soft smile on his face as my lips touched his cheek and he winked before he responded “I'm just doing my job y/n but I suppose I should take my leave now…the Princess must rest after such a hard night out”. I walked to my door and Billy followed me “Of course, I am so tired from the long walk and you know how princesses are we are all very weak and fragile” I smirked at him and he returned it “How could I forget I suppose I'll take my leave now… unless you wanted to invite me in because you are so fragile and weak and you need some help from your Prince charming”. I knew exactly what he was trying to do and I wasn't going to stop him and even better my parents were out so we wouldn't be interrupted it was like this was just meant to happen.

“Well if Prince Charming would like to come in I am just too weak and fragile and tired to fight him on it” I opened my door and me and Billy walked in “Well if you're offering I guess I could come inside” his tone then turned into a teasing one “It might be dangerous for me to walk home by myself now you know since there are just so many monsters in the shadows” I led him to the living room and he started making himself comfortable on the couch “ see now you have to stay I wouldn't want my protector to get hurt now would I and anyway it is the least I could do”. I sat down next to him on the couch turning the TV on so we could watch something. “I hope I'm not disturbing you y/n I don't want to be intruding you know” I just shook my head “Now how could you be disturbing me if anything you've made my night so much better”.

While I was looking at the stuff to watch on the TV I felt Billy’s fingers on my face and he turned my face so that I was looking right at him. “I'm glad you feel that way because I can think of something that can make this night way more enjoyable” Again I felt my face flush and Billy started leaning closer to me and before I knew it he started kissing me and of course, I kissed him back my hands making there way up to his hair but before anything else could happen Billy stopped kissing me and I felt a sharp pain in my back. I turned around and saw the Ghost face killer I tried to scream or run but before I could do any of that the masked killer plunged their knife into my chest so fast I couldn't even count how many times they had done it. I felt myself fall off the couch and I saw Billy still just sitting there his face blank of expression I wanted to tell him to run or fight or do something but he smiled at the masked killer and then got off the couch and kneeled next to me and I saw the horrible and evil smirk he had on his face and I put two and two together and realised he was with the killer “Ya know y/n you shouldn't let strangers in your house they might just want to kill you no matter how nice they act but thanks for the kiss appreciate it”.

I wanted to say something anything but I couldn't I was in too much pain and I felt so cold and I couldn't move I felt paralysed. All I could think about was how stupid I was that I had actually let the killer into my house and how my parents would be so disappointed in me and how I would never see them or my friends again. I felt my eyes close and the pain that I felt was slowly going away the last thing I heard before everything went to black was Billy saying “Right come on let's move this stupid bitch so we can fuck off…guess I was a pretty shitty Prince charming huh”

#scream 1996 #billy Loomis #x reader #scream #Billy Loomis x reader

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playlamb · 1 month ago

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It once waited eight years to talk to a person it liked because it could feel the way it wasn’t ready to talk to another human being, when it did he laughed that “how are you even talking to me” laugh, did not even respond to anything I said, and then a few years later it turned out I was right about what they made fun of me for saying to them, this wasn’t even a bad person, but they saw it as rude and inconsiderate and did that thing everyone does where they don’t consider the possibility of disability when someone approaches them weird.

Anyways I’m terrified to talk to anyone, every time i have tried to approach someone I like I’m met with the harshest punishment for being retarded and damaged, I’ve had to fix everything wrong with me in complete isolation, I’ve never known support or community, one time I was upset about something and went to a server and 5 people commented hug emojis and it was the most support I’d ever received in my life and it got me through that pretty scary moment. I already have an innate disconnect from empathy plus grew up isolated from people and the world, I never even had the chance to try to learn how to socialize or move through life as myself,

I’ve healed from immense trauma and reversed perspectives rooted in the way my brain functions, I’ve done it alone, nobody believed in me, people approach me now because my behavior has become easier to digest thanks to the torturous ordeal of doing work I had no capacity to do but refused to stop doing on myself.

If you like me just know I have never successfully approached and befriended a single person in my entire life. If I’m talking to you and it’s weird it’s because I like you and am battling extremely intense traumatic memories while talking, terror is pulling me in and I’m resisting. Nobody has ever been willing to tolerate or care about this, everyone chooses their peace over trying to bridge the gap with me or whatever, in the past I have not made it easy for anyone to wanna stay and was also not capable most of the time of just calming down. But i also feel like nobody has ever done anything that could help guide me away from my terror. It’s not anyone’s responsibility to but it does make me sad that I’ve never been given a reason to trust someone more than my fear. Except for an ex who betrayed me so wholly i, idk. yea.

I have wanted to connect for so long and wanted it more than anything in the world and that drove me insane for ten years. I’m only just starting to get away from that terror and obsession now , I will slip and start masking and it’s sort of uncomfortable like I’m not being myself + meek. It’s embarrassing to admit, I just wish people understood there’s a lot going on when I’m approaching you. I keep changing + growing and I’m nothing like who I was even a week ago, I am a master pneumalchemist after all.. But this is the life I lived, and it will affect me in whatever ways likely until I die, and I wish people knew that and kept it in mind when they notice me struggle in conversation.

#x #playlamb

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hedawanheda · 1 year ago

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the babysitter

Clarke screws up, now her mom doesn’t trust her to watch her little sister on her own. Abby’s solution is to hire a babysitter, who just happens to be the girl Clarke has been crushing on for as long as she can remember.

Read on ao3

Chapter One

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Clarke protested, stalking after her mother into the kitchen. She had just informed her that someone would be coming over the following night to keep an eye on her and her sister while their mom was at work. “I am perfectly capable of being able to watch Madi by myself,”

Abby ignored her daughter’s complaining, making her way to the pantry to start prepping dinner. “Your sister begs to differ, and so do I. Considering I found her in the front yard last week in her pajamas while you were passed out drunk with your friends in the basement,” Abby scolded, giving the blonde a pointed look. “You’re lucky it’s only a babysitter and not Grandma,”

Clarke shrank back slightly, but she wasn’t going to give up. “It’s embarrassing. She probably goes to my school. On Monday everyone in the junior class will know that Clarke Griffin needs a babysitter. Do you know what that would do to me?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Abby rolled her eyes. “And she does go to your school,” she added quietly.

“Mom,” Clarke groaned. She stomped her foot like a child, frustrated and annoyed that her mom didn’t trust her with something as simple as watching an eleven year old. “What can I do to make this not happen?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Abby sighed. “Madi was the one who asked for a babysitter,”

“She did?” Clarke was taken aback. “Why did she do that?”

“Because she wants to have a responsible adult in the house while I’m away, and I agree with her,”

“That traitor,”

“Careful, Clarke. You’re already grounded,” Abby reminded her. Clarke scowled, crossing her arms.

“Well, at least tell me her name,” Clarke huffed, “If I’m going to have to bribe her to keep my secrets, I may as well know,”

“Anya,”

Anya.

That couldn’t be Anya Woods, could it?

“It totally is,” Raven teased at lunch the next day. “Anya Woods, scary soccer captain and big sister to the love of your life. She’s your babysitter,”

“Shut up,” Clarke grumbled, pushing her food around on her plate. She was slumped in her chair, defeated since her mother revealed who was going to be her, or Madi’s, babysitter. “Lexa is not the love of my life,”

“No, she’s just the girl you’ve been pining after since kindergarten, yet don’t have the guts to talk to,”

“I’ve talked to her,” Clarke countered. “She’s in my Calculus class, I sit behind her. We talk everyday,”

“Asking her for a pencil sharpener doesn’t count as talking,”

“Says you,” Clarke snapped, crossing her arms. Let her have her secret unobtainable crush in peace.

Raven smirked, her friend’s attitude amusing her. She couldn’t blame her, though. The Woods sisters were sort of legends at Polis. As soccer co-captains the two of them led their team to the state championships, putting them at the top of the social hierarchy. Clarke and her friends were popular as well, but they regrettably ran in different circles, hardly overlapping except for the few classes they shared.

“Lay off her, Raven. It’s not like you don’t drool over Anya. And you haven’t even had a conversation with her,” Octavia pointed out, causing Raven to stick her tongue out at her. “Clarke‘s at least has somewhat of a footing with Lexa,”

“We go way back,” Clarke argued.

“That one kiss in kindergarten doesn’t count-“

“Shut up.” Clarke grumbled. Yes it did, it was in fact her bisexual awakening at mere five years old. “Anya isn’t that unusual of a name. It’s probably not her,”

“Well let’s ask,”

“What are you-“

Raven was up in a flash, giving her friends one last smirk before making a beeline towards Anya’s lunch table. Clarke watched in horror as she sat down across from Anya and Lexa, giving the sisters a wide smile. The two of them looked at her confused, Anya not recognizing her and Lexa wondering why someone she hardly knows is smiling at her like that.

Raven starts speaking to them, Clarke seeing Anya nod at Raven’s question. She felt her heart drop at the confirmation, the trio looking over at her lunch table as Raven pointed her out. Clarke felt her face flush with embarrassment as she held her hand up half heartedly, giving a pathetic wave.

Lexa had a look of puzzlement on her face, returning the wave politely. Clarke watched as she turned back to Raven and Anya, Raven chatting excitedly before making her way back over to the table.

“So it turns out Anya Woods is your babysitter,” she gloated. “I made sure to tell her that you are Madi are darling angels who never misbehave,”

“I hate you,”

“Relax, I didn’t say that. But she is your babysitter. She’ll be there at seven, so I’ll be there at, say, seven fifteen?”

“You’re not coming over and embarrassing me further. Plus, I’m grounded, remember? Thanks to your brilliant idea of getting wasted last week,”

“I happen to remember you happily going along with it,”

“Yeah, well, I’m full of regrets,”

Lexa is doing homework in her and Anya’s shared room when her sister walks in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I got a last minute invite practice with the Polis U soccer team,”

“Are you serious?” Lexa exclaimed, shutting her textbook loudly and swiveling her chair to face her. “That’s amazing! When?”

“Tonight at seven,” Lexa frowns.

“Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting Madi Griffin then?” she asks.

“Yeah but… I can’t pass up on this opportunity, Lexa. This could lead to a spot on the team and a full scholarship. We both know how much that would help out Dad,”

“So you’re bailing?” Lexa gawked, watching her sister gather her hair into a high bun before moving to her closet to find an outfit.

“I’m not bailing, I’m simply replacing myself,” Anya said, back turned towards Lexa as she rummaged through her closet. She purposefully did not face her sister as she said this.

“With who?”

“Funny you should ask…”

“Oh no,” Lexa knew where Anya was going with this. “You’re not doing this to me,”

“Come on, Lex! How long have you liked this girl? Literally over a decade. And this is the perfect opportunity to get to know her better, it’s basically the premise of a porno. Plus it would really help me out, please?”

Lexa rolled her eyes, jaw set as her mind raced with the possibilities of what could happen tonight. Chances are she would make a fool of herself, she was never able to function properly around pretty girls. Especially ones she kissed once when she was five.

“Clarke probably won’t even come out of her room. You’ll just be with Madi. You can handle her, can’t you?”

“Of course I can, she’s nine,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “But I don’t want to,”

“Lexa. What’s with it with Clarke Griffin? Usually around girls you’re all game, but with her you become this awkward bumbling mess. It’s so unlike you,”

“Clarke is special,” Lexa said softly. “She’s not just some girl. Not to me,”

“Right. She was the girl. The one who made you realize your raging lesbianism,” Anya smirked, pulling an athletic shirt over her head. “Yet you haven’t made a move in twelve years,”

“She’s out of my league,” Lexa shrugged. “I’ve accepted it. Plus we probably have nothing in common,”

“You both like each other. You have that in common,”

“Shut up. She does not like me,”

“Then go and find out,” Anya grabs her soccer bag out of the closet. “Are you going to make me say please?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,”

“So you’ll do it?”

“I want to hear you say ‘please’ first,”

Anya rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible. I’ll text you the Griffin’s address from my car. They’re expecting you at seven, so get there around six fifty. Thank you so much, Lex,”

She leaves in a hurry before Lexa could protest, saluting her sister as she walks out the door. Lexa sighs, spinning around in her chair as she thinks about what she had gotten herself into.

Clarke’s sitting on her couch with Madi, a bowl of popcorn mixed with M&M’s between them as they watched episodes of Grace and Frankie.

Abby comes into the room dressed in her scrubs, looking down at her phone. “Anya will be here any minute. I left money on the counter for pizza, and there’s stuff in the pantry to make cookies if you get bored,”

She suddenly whips her head towards the TV when she hears Jane Fonda yell ’fuck!’

“What are you watching?” she asked sharply, folding her arms together as gave her older daughter a pointed look.

“It’s fine, Madi’s old enough,” Clarke rolled her eyes, popping an M&M in her mouth.

“She’s nine, Clarke!”

“Almost ten,” said Madi.

“There’s nothing bad in this show,” Clarke shrugs, just as Lily Tomlin’s character lights up a joint onscreen. Clarke frowned. Perfect timing. “Besides that,”

“This is why mom doesn’t trust you enough to watch me alone,” Madi gloats. “Which is why we need a babysitter.” Clarke glares at her.

“Don’t give her that look, Clarke. She’s right,” Abby placed her hands on her hips. “Turn it off,”

Clarke dramatically sighs. “Fine, I’ll turn on She Ra. Or is Madi too young for that, too?”

Abby doesn’t answer her sarcastic remark because the doorbell decides to ring at that moment. She just shakes her head sternly at Clarke and goes to greet the babysitter.

“You must be Anya,” Clarke heard her mom say when she answers the door. She slumped down on the couch, sighing dramatically as Madi snickered next to her.

“Actually, no,” Clarke froze. She knew that voice. Crap. “She had something come up, so she sent me instead. I hope that’s okay. I’m Lexa,”

#loosely based off my babysitter’s a vampire but with no vampires sorry :/#making a moodboard later #clexa #clexa fanfic #clexa fanfiction #clexa au #modern clexa #clarke x lexa #clarke griffin #lexa kom trikru #commander lexa

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666writingcafe · 2 months ago

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Pride (Part Five)

Where am I?

I mean, I know I'm in Cocytus, but the fact that I'm looking at my unconscious body...

I don't think I'm floating in the air. I can still see everyone's faces clearly.

And then I catch something black fluttering in my periphery.

Fuck. Not again.

Forgive me, MC, but what exactly do you mean by "not again"?

SHIT.

It's a long story, one that we don't exactly have time to get into at the moment.

Cut the bullshit. I broke through one of your mental blocks. I saw enough to know that you've lied to me.

Lucifer, I--

"QUIET!" I feel Lucifer flying upwards, flapping his wings so aggressively that the wind they produce knocks everyone down.

Except for one who's just arrived.

"What in the three worlds is going on here?!" Diavolo's voice calls up as he angrily looks up. Lucifer merely screeches in response, causing everyone else to cover their ears. I've never heard such an inhuman noise come out of him before. The closest thing I can compare it to is a pterodactyl, and that's only an approximation compiled by years of human-made movies and documentaries.

"Lucifer Morningstar, you need to calm down!"

"Fuck you!" The next thing I know, a blue ball of light gets hurled from Lucifer's hands and hits Diavolo directly on his chest, causing him to join the others on the ground.

Are you trying to kill the future Demon King?!

Oh, like your morals are any better. Besides, he can take it. We've sparred before.

Look, once this is all said and done, I'll tell you everything you want to know, but I need you to listen to me. The strength of your powers may be equivalent to Diavolo's, but when they're combined with mine, they end up overtaking him.

Silence. At least Lucifer's allowing me to speak.

You wanna know how I thought to launch myself at Beel when he was attacking everyone at the colosseum? It's because I once did it to Diavolo a few years ago, when you possessed me the first time.

In your other life.

I can tell he's still upset at me, but his voice is a lot calmer than it was.

"So, you're completely blinded by rage, then." Diavolo gets up and dusts the dirt off him. "You're better than this, Lucifer."

Something about Diavolo's tone irritates me. Granted, some of it is Lucifer's influence for sure, but that doesn't explain all of it.

There's no Diavolo here in this world. I can do whatever I want without worrying about being a disgrace to him.

I gave Diavolo my life. If I fight against him, he will most certainly kill me.

Stay away from my brothers!

"It's all the same. The Devildom, the Celestial Realm...nothing's changed."

"What are you talking about?" That's it. He's dismissing Lucifer's feelings. Treating him like a mere child.

There's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit.

"You're just as bad as everyone else! You only want the seven of us here because we make rare and novel additions to your collection! You don't actually care about us!"

"Lucifer--"

"If we're going to be played for fools, if we're going to have everyone walk all over us no matter where we are, then I'll destroy this world and everything in it!"

Do me a favor and make sure there's enough of my body for my loved ones to have a proper funeral.

A pause, followed by a long sigh.

You wanna know the messed up thing about all of this?

What?

Even with you lying about your identity, you've still been more honest to me than anyone else here has.

"Well, I thought we could talk this over in a calm, civilized manner, but it seems I'm going to force you to settle down first." Diavolo cracks his knuckles, morphing into his demon form. "It's time I show you what I'm truly capable of." The air around him crackles with electricity as he joins us up in the sky.

He's going to kill us!

No. That'd be too kind of him. He enjoys playing with his food.

Diavolo shoots lightning our way, but Lucifer quickly darts out of its way, causing it to hit a nearby tree.

I need you to make a decision, and quickly: whose side are you on?

What?!

I can protect you, but you can't impede my attempts at fighting back. As of now, any friend of Diavolo's is an enemy of mine, and if I feel you try to stop me in any way, you'll experience the full extent of my fury, and there won't be any trace of your body remaining when I'm done.

Wait, so having me in here with you is serving as your last ounce of self-control?

Don't question me, MC. This is your best and only chance of survival. So, who's it going to be: me or Diavolo?

The Young Master isn’t one to consider someone’s feelings if they interfere with his vision.

He's such a self-centered ass. The way he makes decision on a whim with no regard for others is quite annoying. He always finds a way to make life harder for the rest of us.

I am so sick and tired of you getting everything you want.

You.

~~~

I don't know how long the fight lasts. Each second feels like an eternity. If we were up against anyone other than Diavolo, they'd be dead by now. The fight that I'm literally inside Lucifer's mind helps, I'm sure, but even if we were merely fighting side by side, I think we'd still be able to communicate with each other with few to no words. We're that much in sync right now.

But with Diavolo as our opponent, the only thing we're succeeding in is remaining alive. While he's taken a few hits, they've only left scratches on his body. It's certainly nothing compared to the damage the land around us has taken. The only other person I've been able to see during all this is Solomon, who's hunching over my unconscious body as he's maintaining a protective force field around him. I suspect the others are doing their best to hide from all the destruction we're causing.

Lucifer's definitely losing strength the longer this drags on. At first, he's only releasing blue bursts of energy, but as his strength weakens, he begins drawing on my energy, causing specks of white to appear that quickly grow in size and threaten to overtake the sparks of blue.

It's then that Diavolo realizes that he's not merely fighting Lucifer, but me as well. He visibly falters, allowing us to deliver a couple spells without them getting blocked by his magic. Soon, however, he musters a giant ball of black energy and sends it flying our way.

I have to protect Lucifer.

My vision once again becomes blinded with white light. When it returns to normal, everything's gone eerily still. Those who were hiding have come out, and all of them are completely stunned.

What's going on? Why's everyone staring?

I know as much as you do, Lucifer.

"No way!" someone gasps.

"You gotta be kiddin' me..."

"You've...you've changed."

"What are you talking about?" Lucifer angrily demands.

"Is this..." Satan nervously swallows. "Is this what you looked like as an angel?"

Shit.

What the hell did you do, MC? Why did you turn me back into an angel?!

I...I don't know. I was just trying to protect you. I didn't think it would cause THIS to happen.

"My goodness, Lucifer," Diavolo whispers, his feet softly touching the ground again. "You truly are magnificent. Never did I think I'd get the chance to behold the Morning Star again..." The next thing I know, he's kneeling before Lucifer, looking up with awe and admiration. Everyone else quickly follows his lead.

This is making me very uncomfortable right now.

I know.

How do I get them to stop?

MC has to return to their body.

Standing behind the group is a man I've never seen before. And yet his voice sounds all too familiar.

Michael? What are you doing here?

Setting you free.

But Father--

--made a vow to not harm our heirs. The universe has deemed MC to be yours, Lucifer. To protect them means ensuring they return to their proper home, and that can't happen if you're trapped here.

Does He know you're doing this?

I'll ask for forgiveness later.

A brief pause.

MC?

Yes?

It truly is a shame that you don't get to see Lucifer like this. He's perhaps the most beautiful creature Father ever produced.

I think there are some things best left to the past.

Michael softly smiles.

I'd expect nothing less from Lucifer's heir. Go forth, MC. Spread light wherever you go.

He quickly disappears in thin air. Lucifer carefully walks over to Solomon and crouches down next to him, allowing me to see just how closely he's holding me in his arms. Wordlessly, Solomon hands my body off to Lucifer, who envelops the two of us with his wings as he brings me up to his chest.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #obey me michael #obey me solomon #so basically i've said “fuck Father's blessing” and decided that mc's the reason for lucifer's (brief) transformation #i remember a few people on here posting similar opinions when this part of the story first dropped #also #the words in bold italics are direct quotes from previous chapters of my rewrite #they represent mc recalling their memories #anyway #hopefully someone other than me likes the idea i've put forth here

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wof-inbox · 2 months ago

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Hey Winter, Rememeber that Su- Something something air plane? IT AIN'T GOT NOTHING ON THIS!

The F22 Raptor! Designed by Lockhead Martin for the American air force. If you're like me and not in the air force then just like me you probably assumed the F35 was better than the F22 because it was a higher number. That could not be further from the truth, the F35 is stealth but not nearly as capable. Allow me to put this in perspective you know all those CEO's who only care about making money off of something? Congress straight up told Lockhead Martin he wasn't allowed to sell the F22 to any other countries. Even allies! Mainly because if someone got a hold of it and knew what they were doing, there's nothing we could do to stop them. Except intercept with some more F22's. The F22 raptor is capable of something called hyper cruising, meaning without full afterburner the F22 can just cruise past the soundbarrier. Granted my knowledge is very limited when it comes to aircraft but the only other one I know that can do that is SR-71 blackbird. I'm gonna tell you a little story so you can understand, a few years ago there was a US drone off the coast of Iran and Iran decided to spin up a couple of F4 Phantoms to intercept. Now the F4 was a great platform, in Vietnam when we used them. What those F4's where incapable of detecting was the scariest flying object since the cretasiouc period. So a couple of F22s came up right underneath the F4's without being detected, check their entire payload, and then came up behind them and said: "You should go home now.". I don't know if I'm making myself clear the sheer existence of this thing is a war crime. Most aircraft are limited by how fast they can go this thing is limited by how fast it can go before the paint peels off. and what it's painted in is also classified. Most of the time even ground based high-fidelity radars can't detect this thing until it opens it's bombay doors increases it's radar cross section. Radar cross section is a measurement of how big something looks in the sky. And this thing looks like it doesn't exist until it decides to unalive you. Now lets go ahead and talk about dog fighting, you've must of heard about those before, there things are capable of stalling, and turning around within the length of their own aircraft. So a common tactic for fighter air craft when their intercepting is going nose to nose and they try and out turn one another to turn around a fire. Most of the time what happens up there is by the time your halfway through your turn this thing has already unleashed it's payload and destroyed you. Lets say you get lucky and the Pilot's having a off day and you end up behind a F22 and your trying to get missle lock, good luck. Again this thing looks so small in the sky most missiles won't lock on to it. And I can just hear someone going "WhAt AbOuT hEaT sEaKeRs?" in the background. It's gonna drop flares, chaff, either outmanuver you or climb to a elevation your aircraft can't compete with and then it's gonna come in behind you and kill you so dead you'll be reincarnated as a bug about to be squished. Legit overwhelming odds is the only chance you have against this thing, that or somehow the slow guy in class managed to get behind the controls of the most advanced fighter aircraft on the planet. I am really glad this thing is on our team.

“And they’re all so amazing!” -Winter

#wings of fire #wof #Winter wof #winter answers

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wordsandrobots · 5 months ago

Text

Jotting down a half-formed thought.

Some years ago, I went to an XML conference in Oxford (that makes it sound fancy but off-season college food is universally terrible) and one of the speakers was a gentleman who worked for Wikipedia. And one of the things he said was that what he aspired to, with Wikipedia, was something akin to the ship's computer in Star Trek, where you could go, "Computer tell me about pottery on Bronze Age Cyprus," and it would return all the information you could want. An aspirational idea, to be sure, and not an aim I object to, but an example of how fiction shapes what we want out of technology.

A couple of weeks ago, my workplace held one of our semi-regular informal meetings about so-called 'AI' and the impact on our industry, which I generally avoid because I am an avowed Luddite when it comes to this latest round of 'wonderful new technologies' being promoted at break-neck pace by investment capital. My contributions to the meetings when I do go are generally of a wet-blanket kind and this time was little different even though we were talking about 'fears around AI', because a well-intentioned colleague started the discussion with Roko's Basilisk and the Paper-Clip Maximiser. Politely speaking, these are two rather implausible scenarios concerning the creation of general artificial intelligences, which do not have much bearing on the subject of large-language models and supposedly-assistive automation. I bit my tongue a lot, despite finding myself talking more than usual, mostly on account of thinking that focusing on these fantasies is a distracting waste of time when 'AI' tools are being deployed willy-nilly in efforts to devalue people's labour, to say nothing of exposing the tech sector's childish disregard for creativity as a part of human experience.

I fear the loss of skill and information at scale as a consequence of another capitalistic fool's gold-rush far more than I do hypothetical non-human intelligences we are not close to creating, and that would reside within extremely vulnerable infrastructure if we did.

Nevertheless, it got me thinking about Issac Asimov and the laws of robotics, his set of impossibly vague rules created to drive stories on the basis of finding all the ways they would go wrong.

A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.

(Please appreciate how many philosophical concepts an AI would have to understand in order for these to be practicable.)

And that got me thinking about 'robot' stories in general, all the way back to Karel Čapek and Rossum's Universal Robots, which is of course not about thinking machines at all but rather the proletariat, 'robota' meaning as it does 'forced labour'. Decades later, Luke Skywalker and his uncle were buying slaves made from steel and gold to work on their farm. 'Robot' displaced 'automaton' in popular language, and injected its original, class-structure meaning into unthinking clockwork. Fictional metal robots become beings capable of thought. Alien, yes, yet in some measure conscious and subject to all sorts of ethical considerations and imagined horrors. We've largely left behind Čapek's conception of human-like beings assembled from separately grown organs, the production-line person, but his tale of a genocidal revolution persists.

Discussion around automation and 'AI' seems to me to be soaked in a morbid desire for a 'safe' intelligent servant. Science fiction has shaped how we hold those discussions, naturally, directing our concerns at 'robot uprisings' and being 'surpassed' in some way (or all ways). It goes without saying that a great deal of the fiction functions as metaphor. To pick an example I've just finished rereading, Ann Leckie's Ancillary books are as much commentary on real-world imperial practices as they are an exploration of personhood and how general AI might be implemented per se. Unavoidably so. Will we ever extract 'robot' from Čapek's work and the industrial models that shaped his writing?

Perhaps not, but this isn't really the question I'm concerned with here. No, what I'm grappling with is the appeal of having an intelligence serve our whims. From the simple humanisation of tools, both in the sense of 'prompts' and 'hints' taking a conversational tone, to the desire to supplant actual humans with pliable alternatives that has Elon Musk wheeling out a bloke in a leotard like he's restaging The Five Doctors, it's a thread that has become wrapped around how we engage with . . . well, with technology. With constructions meant to assist us, that more often than not cannot replace us (yet) and require us to assist them.

In reality, the ethical questions arising are blunt and ugly. Whose work do we value? By what criteria does society judge who it supports and who it discards? How is remote technology used to circumvent natural, negative human responses to violence? Did those companies pay for that data, and do we want them to be able to buy it at all?

Still the fantasy persists. "Computer, answer my question." "Robot, do my chores." "AI, you won't rise up and kill me, will you?"

This is not an original observation, to be sure. I am inclined to seek out analyses of these trends in discussion around new tech, although I fear it would mean going back to Frankenstein and working forward. It just struck me, forcibly, that the metaphors for labour discontent and slave uprisings have imposed their own logic on both the fears and the hype around 'AI', be it the real thing or the glorified spell-checkers used to pretend art can happen at the touch of a button.

I have nothing against automation as a tool for making life easier, just as I see no possibility of that promise being fulfilled while capitalistic priorities rule the world. We have to pivot to centring human good first, and that's the core of the struggle.

But I'm also beginning to think we need to seriously ask why we want our tools to be glorified. Why we would want, not just speech recognition as an assistive feature for those who can't type, but specifically something that can speak to us in Majel Barrett's voice and hold an intelligent conversation. Why we are sold objects intended to play-act being 'part of the family' and why those selling them consider it desirable.

I don't suppose the answer will be less depressing than 'owning people is the highest mark of prestige in the societies producing these discussions. Even so, it's probably worth unpicking.

#more rambling #artificial intelligence #rossum's universal robots #isaac asimov #star trek #though on the marketing side no one ever summed it up better than Douglas Adams #'your plastic pal who's fun to be with'#I really could have done without someone in Silicon Valley thinking the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation were roll models

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ezrazone · 4 months ago

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making this non-rebloggable and may delete it, but i do want to talk about my first experience as a literary critic because i think it matters despite my wanting nothing to do with the subject of the piece for as long as i live. this is not a callout or a call to action. please be advised to leave this guy alone. i can forgive them now that their behavior towards me has stopped.

this past winter, ahead of my first article as a comics critic, i very naively hoped to have a conversation with another cartoonist about the philosophical ideas their latest book is wrestling with. i ended up having a tense but respectful discussion with the author, which they then chose to lie about to both their twitter audience for sympathy and then in outrage via emails to my editor at the online journal in hopes of having me blacklisted or getting the review censored or scrubbed. it went nowhere (except a small handful of petty comments on the article itself, parroting the version of events that the author invented for twitter) and an internal investigation at the journal, which yielded the obvious (that the claims were completely fabricated, as evidenced by our written correspondences on either side of an uncomfortable phone-call and the actual review which is critical but not malicious or personal).

i think it’s very easy to get wrapped up in the indignity of the experience and the horror-magnet of this individual personality. i think i got off pretty easy; this is not someone with a great deal of power or influence (i am far from the first person to trigger their tar-pit behavior on twitter), it never followed me to other social media, and i got to keep my article up because it was fair and professional. i still have my job as a freelancer with the journal.

but i think something matters from my experience, beyond the interpersonal confusion - i cannot possibly understand why they behaved the way they did and will lose my mind if i try. but what i do have is new insight into the way that people are prone to covet acceptance via professional work, how the myth of creating something genius in isolation promises to resolve all of your personal and spiritual issues - and how “bad reception” (or merely insightful reception, or reception you personally disagree with as a creative worker) appears to threaten your safety and your sanity.

being begged by someone who has published multiple substantial graphic novels - achievements i am nowhere close to undertaking myself at this point in my creative development - not to “cancel them” by writing a completely warranted review of their hugely ambitious comics project was like having a bucket of ice water dumped on my own delusions of grandeur. this awful social interaction has begun a chain reaction of ego deaths in me that only seem to accelerate as i wrangle pieces of my health from the jaws of my long covid crash last year.

i cannot possibly care about being Da King of Comics anymore. it’s just fucking comics.

anyways you can read my review on SOLRAD. and you are obviously advised to leave the artist alone. i think it’s very cool, actually, that i was able to walk away from an encounter like that knowing that 1) i treated this person during our actual encounters with respect, compassion, curiosity and consideration and 2) that i would write a fair review no matter how much they thrashed and cursed me and begged me to become a part of their annihilation fantasies. i have never felt more clear on who i am or what my work is capable of.

i hope by sharing about my experience that i do not re-provoke this person, since writing the review at all sent them into a blackout rage of self-pity and entitlement for several weeks. i have never described them publicly as they actually treated me, but i don’t think i’ve become a better person by sitting on it. maybe this can be part of me letting them go.

i still find the book interesting. i could have written an article that was 5x the length of the one on SOLRAD and not even scratched the surface of how meaningful the book is to me. isn’t that kind of sad, that these characters could have lived on through me or through anybody? i could have made comics about it, new drawings and illustrations to heighten the things that worked while acknowledging the things that cannot work.

we are so culturally petrified of subjective audience experiences and transformative work. we are so wedded to our own egos, to being regarded as individually pure and infallible. it’s a huge disservice to the work we actually make, which is so much bigger than this individual’s emotional response to embarrassing themselves in front of a colleague.

they admitted to me over the phone that they had not read any single philosopher name-checked in their book. they had only listened to breadtube playlists. i had not pressed very hard; just listened, just observed them openly. the next four months would be colored by their own horror at this admission of their own incuriosity and what they feared i might do with it. they’d call me an “adult bully” in their twitter takedown, hreatening to “kick their corpse” by calling them “a bigot” and by “refusing to explain why”. i had only accepted them as they were and promised to treat their work with respect and dignity.

i declined, over the phone, to give this person experiencing severe emotional distress a new reading list. they reacted as if, because they perceived me as “knowing better”, i was doing violence to them by not immediately teaching them all that i know. instead, i outright rejected the framing that there was something wrong with their book because they had not “read enough” and instead tended to their emotional well-being, reassuring them that i cared for their future as an artist and took the review seriously. they were able to calm down as we spoke and they thanked me for being a safe person. they seem to have changed their mind later, after the story underwent several escalating permutations.

we’re all doing enough. we can do more, when we accept that our work is already in other people’s hands. my plea to the proto anne rices of the world. rice said she obliterated all of that fan work and fan discussion from the internet with her massive legal financial and social power because she was worried that reading something about her work might cause her writer’s block.

you can make something exceptionally wonderful and it will matter very little if you cannot share it. allow it to be witnessed. allow somebody to disagree with it. make work with the expectation that most people will not understand it. world peace my final message etc

#the twitter meltdown created a streisand effect which made my review the most popular article on the site for several weeks……#like. anyway #i want to be done thinking about this now.#and really focus on the implications for my own attitudes towards artmaking.

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