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dontfearrr · 11 months ago

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ask and you shall receive! @elia-the-bibliophile

i have a few warnings, i’m coming out of fan fiction retirement so bare with me. i didn’t proofread that well so don’t mind any spelling mistakes, i used some shitty sindarin translator on google so i do apologize if it’s incorrect, and. i think that’s all! :)

In my arms

gif not mine!

Summary: Thranduil isn’t very fond of you and legolas’s relationship but nonetheless he bares it.

Pairing: Thranduil x reader

Warnings: small hint toward sex (nothing specific)

Word count: idk tbh i forgot to check

Category: hurt/comfort(?)

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“final count, forty-two.” Legolas spoke matter-a-factly across from you as he ran his fingers over his perfectly crafted, elvish bow. You gave him a raised eyebrow and drew your sword in a blink of an eye, plunging it into an orc that had its axe raised behind Legolas’s back.

“forty four”

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It was midday in middle earth, you and Legolas had volunteered to clear the rogue orcs that ravaged near by villages, burning and spilling blood mercilessly. It wasn’t often you got to spend time with him due to your other duties in Mirkwood.

The Woodland Realm had been your home for many ages, you were an elf but a fool in their eyes. Woodland elves aren’t the wisest of the bunch but nonetheless, they’re your home. Legolas was the closest you’d ever get to a brother, he cared for you as family.

However that could never sit right with Thranduil.

He was a stubborn man, possessive some may say, which is why you and Legolas’s little adventure wasn’t mentioned to the elven king. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest choice considering he will find out eventually, he had men everywhere you look. At the end of the day, you’re accompanied by one of the most skilled princlings you’ve ever came across, so what could justify Thranduils brooding this time?

You and Legolas were on your way back to your residence, small talk was made but you both enjoyed simply just each others company, even if it was in silence.

“and what do you suppose daddy dearest will have to say once we return?” you inquired, not looking up from the ground as the both of them walked walked. “something along the lines of ‘no one leaves here without my knowledge, i’ve told you many times legolas’ then send me off as if i’m some child” He mocked his father, which earned a small smile in amusement from you.

As you entered the throne room, you and Legolas stood near the doors for a moment, exchanging farewells for the day. He embraces you in a warm comforting hug as he always did before he let you be, smoothing down the back of your hair and nodding his head before exiting to mind his duties. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself for what was to come as you walked down the long stone walk way to the throne, which sat the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. He sat nearly diagonal, legs crossed with his arms on either side of the throne. Glittery gems littered his fingers and crown that complimented his usual flawless elven apparel.

His long white hair shifted with his gaze as he spotted the smaller elf before him. He gave her no expression which was expected. He stared, waiting for you to speak, you could feel his mood from where you stood, it reeked of attitude.

Thranduil had spotted the interaction between you and legolas, it burned a fire of rage inside of him, only he was allowed to lay even a finger upon the elf. She belonged to him. His mind raced with thought but never cracked even a sliver of visible emotion.

“my lord” you began to bow before him until he raised a hand, putting a halt to your actions. You stood back up straight in confusion and shifted on your feet, Thranduils eyes staggering into you.

He finally spoke. “i don’t think i remember warranting your leave.”

You stood your ground, after all, the king would do anything for this she-elf.

“orcs were bringing treachery over near by villages, surely you saw the fires, my lord.”

You dipped your toe into the water, testing him.

His eyes narrowed at you, his thick dark eyebrows coming together, he was unimpressed. “and what does that have to do with me?”

“nothing, my lord. Me and Legolas simply volunteered.” you took no more than five steps closer toward the tall man. “we both had a free morning, i see not the problem.” Thranduil uncrossed his legs slowly, rising from his seat. His garments fell into place, the long white, detailed over coat trailed behind him as he made his way down the wooden steps. You were eyeing him like the finest piece of treasure, his grace and royalty always intimidated you.

“very well. however, i see no reason why my son had to accompany you.” he challenged, standing only a few feet from you, hands intertwined at his front.

“i mean not to disrespect you, my lord, but i don’t see a problem with the company of your son. would you have had me go alone? perhaps getting killed?” you know he would react to that, and he did. A long sigh drew from his nostrils, getting quite impatient despite having lived for more than 8,000 years.

“Thranduil, it is to you.” he steps even closer to you and peers down at you like an animal hunting prey. “you two seem.. close.” he followed up, taking the knuckle of his index finger to push a strand of misplaced hair behind your ear. “yes. he’s the only one who will even speak to me in this realm, other than you.” you finally raised your head up to meet his piercing blue eyes. “he is the only one who treats me like family. a brother.” you continued to further solidify your point.

This wasn’t the first time you’ve had a conversation like this with Thranduil. He’s a curious yet jealous mess, whether he likes to admit it or not. This conversation was slowly taking a toll on his heart, nasty remarks threatened his throat and boiling tears threatened his eyes. He remained calm, the elf in front of him reminding him of his purpose.

“he touched you.” Thranduil simply said while tilting his head to the side a bit. If this was his attempt at intimidating you, it sure as hell was working. He made something in your heart weak, yearning for him. “surely you aren’t jealous of your very own son, right?” your tone changed, attempting to take the upper hand in this situation, and based on his expression, it was working. your crossed your arms behind your back and gave him your best doe eyes.

“i mean not to make you feel this way, you know Legolas doesn’t think of me that way, and nor do i.”

Thranduils hand fell from your cheek down to your waist, gripping fairly tight as if you were going to disappear. “i know my son shall never dare to try my woman, but you are special and you know that. it wouldn’t take a lot for him to change his mind.” At this point you were bored of the conversation, you only ever had eyes for Thranduil, but that is hard for him to understand. He’s not used to this kind of love and anything that happens under his nose makes him rethink every single thing that has ever come to him. you were his star.

“oh meleth nin” Your heart ached for the king in front of you. He has seen many a heartbreak. He couldn’t bare to handle another. You were much younger than the elven king, but you knew when his heart was hurting, and you were going to fix that. Both of your hands raised to his face, his skin was like porcelain, flawless and pale. Your thumbs ran over his cheekbones, he instinctively leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. He may seem intimidating, but sometimes even the most wretched need comfort and reassurance.

“Legolas is no more than a brother to me. you need not worry. I pledged my heart to you a long time ago Thranduil and that is how it will stay.” you got as close as you could to him to where you could still reach him. Your hands never left his face and his arms came to wrap around your waist completely. “Im nifred i er aur im lothron ú- n- farn an cin.”(i fear that one day i may not be enough for you) He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. Your heart shattered at the broken man. You wished you could take all of his trouble for yourself so he’d never have to bare them again. His head fell to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck. You’d never seen him so vulnerable before. You held the back of his head, gently smoothing over his hair and scratching his scalp.

“meleth nin, my heart and soul belongs to you. there’s nothing in this earth that could give me the love you do.” You whispered into his ear, kissing the pointy tips and they flushed red. You felt his body shudder at the action and held him closer. “don’t let a simple adventure spoil your mind.”

you lifted his head to face you and leaned yours against his. “im mel cin”(i love you).

Thranduil sighed in content and took your small hand in his, holding it to his cheek as his eyes fell shut once again. He kisses your wrist and opens his eyes. “i apologize for my behavior. it was unnecessary” he drops your hand and pulls you into his large figure, engulfing you in a warm embrace. You returned the embrace by holding him tight, breathing in his woodsy scent as you did so. your head just barely reached his chest, you felt like a princess in his arms. “your apology is accepted. you never have to question my devotion to you. Ask for reassurance and i will give it to you, sweet king.”

He released you and captured your lips in a soft but passionate kiss, he tasted of pine and elvish wine. you savored the kiss as your hands cupped his face, using your thumb to draw gentle circles over the points of his ears. You always loved his body language especially since you’re the only one who ever sees him express emotion besides Legolas. As the kiss ended, you smiled up at him, to which he returned but quickly was replaced with a huff of defeat, his eyes dared to close and his legs nearly trembling.

“you witch” he feigned the insult, merely joking as you gave his ears attention. Causing him to sweep you off your feet into his arms and head toward his chambers.

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rohirric-hunter · 3 months ago

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It's so funny to me when I tell people, "You can't depend on an AI for that, it has to be done by a human," they're always like, "You're just afraid of technology." I'm not afraid of it. I understand it. And I know that an AI is never going to be able to comprehend things like context, which come naturally to a human and are essential to all kinds of information gathering and parsing.

Like yeah, there are uses for AI technology. The bread-sorting computer comes to mind. But that doesn't mean I want an AI to analyze the results of my google searches. Last night I googled, "Where to find iron ore minecraft," and Google's AI told me to dig 15 blocks down from anywhere and promised me that 100% I would find iron ore. Because the computer lacks the ability to look at phrases like "y level 15" and go, "huh, I wonder what that means, maybe I should look that up." It also lacks the ability to get the first apparent answer (y level 15) and then think that there might be more information (likelihood of spawning, size of spawns) and keep reading for that information. It doesn't know that's relevant information. And you can't teach these skills to a computer. People think that you can solve these problems by simply feeding more information into the computer but you can't. It just confuses it. And even if you could, what's the proposition? To fill a computer with the sum total of all human knowledge? I trust I don't have to say why that's a bad idea? The only thing you can do is manually block bad answers and replace them with good ones. By a human. Which means that all of those fixed answers... are not AI generated. :/

#basically it comes down to very specialized ai is reaosnable #like pick something for it to do and then make it do that super well #but thats not what the ai accessible to the average person is #its advertised as something that can do anything #which means its stretched too thin and now it cant do anything actually #except tell you to put gasoline in your spaghetti #also whose bright idea was it to train them off of reddit? or any social media site. it doesnt understand satire

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kotias · 8 months ago

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Ineffable Rockstars

Time to properly become creatively feral about the Ineffable Rockstars project with @vavoom-sorted-art, @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist , @daneecastle, @moonyinpisces and Stitcherydoo!

Summary of the story: human!AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are rockstars in their respective groups, Celestial Harmonies and Hell's Rebuke. Word is out that those two groups have bad history together, and therefore the two of them, while shamelessly talking to each other any festival they get to meet at, do have to be careful about being seen together by their own bands.

Summary of this excerpt: Aziraphale explains the story of the two bands to Crowley, who has arrived after everything went down and was kept in the dark by his mates.

Lyrics: written for the purpose of this fic.

Word count of the excerpt: 872 words

Excerpt:

Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, whose eyes laid probably a second too long on those long fingers, on this chest showing so proudly from behind his open shirt- He coughed and drank a large gulp from the flute, clutching at the glass like a lifeline.

“It’s- it’s alright. Are you feeling comfortable? How was the concert?”

“Hah, acting like I didn’t see you in the audience, are ya?” Crowley asked with a smirk, and Aziraphale looked away, feeling the heat building up on his face.

“Well, we do need to keep it silent, don’t we?” he answered nonetheless with a coy smile, sipping on his drink.

“Why, though? It’s completely beyond me; Bee recruited me right after the split between Celestial Harmonies and Hell’s Rebuke, but there’s always been… you know, a feeling that it didn’t happen for no reason.”

“They haven’t explained it to you?” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale sighed. “No wonder you’re lost. Well, to put it simply… Hell’s Rebuke’s members were part of Celestial Harmonies, a few years ago.”

“Yes, I know that-”

“Let me talk, please; I would like to make sure we work with the same information.”

As he began explaining the official history of the two bands, he was cut by a thunder of clapping as the concert was coming to an end, and he and his counterpart felt compelled to stand up and join the applause.

When you reached Summer,

You lost sight of the star lights,

Questions died in your throat,

Cursing a future that is naught

And the night falling upon you

Left you laying awake with open eyes.

After two encore songs and enough clapping to make their hands and wrists sore, Crowley and Aziraphale walked towards another scene and stayed in relative distance, ensuring that they would hear each other. “So, you were saying, Hell’s Rebuke and Celestial Harmonies.”

“Ah! Yes; so, this is fairly public knowledge.” Crowley nodded impatiently. “At least, it is not something that we are actively hiding, neither of the two groups; somebody who knows how to Google us would be able to find this information.” Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms. “Honestly, that is why it concerns me a little that you have not been informed of this; it is a fairly common question that people are trying out on us, asking about the other group to see how we react. Anyways-”

The vendors just a few metres from them had started cooking a few crepes, and Crowley did not miss the eyes darting towards them. “Want some? C’me on, it’s my treat,” he insisted as Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised -and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to refuse such an offer.

“Well, if you insist,” he answered, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyelashes fluttering; Crowley’s heart missed a beat, his fingers pressed against his flute, and he barely managed to keep a groan from reaching out of his mouth.

“You do have to tell me more, though; ‘specially if you think my ignorance could bite me in the ass.”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped as they reached the line, keeping it to the level of a private conversation. “Bee and Gabriel were… an item.”

“Oh, excellent start. If that’s only the beginning, I might have to stock up on popcorn with that crepe of yours.”

“Heh, well, it might be one of the more interesting aspects of this entire story, so do not keep your expectations too high.”

“No, no, don't kill my hopes, now. Go on, tell me everything, I’m sure it will be full of riveting details, Bee’s never been good at keeping things tidy anyways.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, you should see Gabriel when he gets involved… Ah- one crepe with sugar, thank you,” he said with a bright smile to the vendor. “Alright, so- long story short, the band was originally founded by the two of them; excellent musicians those two are, and the band did have quite the promising future before it. We started having a fairly good reputation.”

“Black coffee and a serving of fries. The name’s been around for a while now, that’s right- I remember seeing it ten years ago on some festival announcements in my city. Cash, thanks.”

“We have, yes. We were very local for a long while, but…”

“What changed?”

“Gabriel and the others were wishing to go professional; Bee and who are now Hell’s Rebuke were not willing to do that.”

“Ah, I see. Well, they didn't change much in that aspect,” Crowley mumbled sourly, extending his arms to grab the crepe and coffee. He gave the dessert over, then took his serving of fries, and they left the vendor’s stand. “Wait, where did you stand? You stayed with Celestial Harmonies, after all.”

“Hm, well…”

That did not sound like somebody who was fully happy to have stayed, Crowley thought, and he crept closer to Aziraphale, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, spill the beans! Honestly, I’m looking to go in that direction, if there’s anything I should be aware of…”

“Being professional was, and still is, something that I hold dear,” Aziraphale explained, his slow speech feeling heavy, like he was choosing every word carefully.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable rockstars #human AU #fanfiction

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 7 months ago

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Hi, could i request Alastor x reader where one of them does something nice/gives something to the other not realizing that in their culture it's equivalent of courting/proposing? And since the other is in love with them, they don't mention the connotations and it takes someone else to point it out for them to realize? :)

Going to be honest, I wasn't sure how to write this one, since I'm white and to my knowledge Alastor's a Creole man from 1930s, so I wasn't sure what from either of those cultures could be mistaken for a proposal. After doing some research I'm going to tweak this ask a bit, simply because I am not entirely comfortable representing other cultures that I am not a part of and only have a few hours worth of google research knowledge of. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted. If you or anyone has more specific traditions to use as examples, I'd be happy to try and expand on the idea.

(Or reinterpret this as like, flower language, gift giving symbolism by pagan standards, or crow language. Which not gonna liez my ADHD ass really wants to write a crow sinner giving them weird random stuff they find that they think the others would like.)

Anyway, I'm going to do things you'd do for each other that make you both wanna get married. Hope that's ok!

Alastor

It's not so much a single thing you do, but more like there is a single moment where he realizes he wants to marry you. And to be clear, his idea of marriage is going to be based off of what he grew up with and his own personal level of comfort with romance and intimacy (remember folks, aromantics have a spectrum as well and can get married and have perfectly happy, functional, healthy relationships and marriages).

It's probably not even a big grand gesture or anything. It's more likely something domestic and really sweet. Like it's post the finale fight with Adam, and he already knows he's getting attached because he let you help him get patched up. He lets you in his room, his space, and being touched by you is as easy and comfortable as it is with Rosie and Niffty, who have pretty much a free pass whenever.

Yet you're still always so respectful of his boundaries, of giving him subtle ways to avoid or redirect your touch if he's not feeling up to it. You never push, chosing to take what levels of affection he's willing to express but always letting him know you love him, and this last small thing is the thing that makes it click in his brain.

You bring him his coat, newly patched, cleaned of any trace of blood. The stitching is a little sloppy, crooked, and the fabric isn't lined up as well as it used to be, but you tried. He can see the effort and knows you spent hours holed up in your room after patching him up.

"I know it's not perfect, but it'll hold until you feel well enough to visit your tailor again." You say timidly, as if you expected rejection or critique. And while criticism wouldn't be unwarranted, he's just too emotional to say anything. His smile is gentle, a little wobbly, and he reaches out and brushes the coat aside to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug.

You're just so sweet and considerate, you understand him. He's not going to change, he doesn't want redemption, he thrives off the bloodshed and chaos of hell, but at the same time he's still just a man. And he wants you to be by his side for eternity, if he you want that too. He's never thought of marriage before but now...now he can't stop. He wants to have that with you. Domestic life, something to come home to.

He won't say anything right away, he wants his proposal to be perfect. He's going to have Rosie help him plan this every step of the way, but regardless, one day, you will be his partner.

As for what your moment with Alastor is, I think it entirely depends on what you value most in a partner. However, a general consensus I've seen in most of the fanfics and tumblr posts is the idea of Alastor showing us a softer side.

Not just showing us that he's more than a serial killer and cannibal with his own sense of morality. More than just feeling comfortable enough to let us initiate touch, hut genuinely letting us see past the Radio Demon persona.

Maybe it's by cooking for us and talking about how he learned the recipe from his Mama, which leads into him slowly opening up about her, how much he adored her. What she meant to him.

Maybe it's him and you at the bar in the hotel or in his room, sipping drinks, his jacket off, sleeves rolles up. Letting himself be casual and in a compromised state around you. Maybe he'll even take your hand and spin you across the dance floor like he used to with Mimzy. He doesn't even care if you're not that good, he can teach you, practice makes perfect, he just has fun with you.

Maybe it's a moment where he let's you touch him. Or seeks you out for help because he knows you won't say anything. Or if he humors you and flirts back when you tease him. Or let's say he has a tail and he doesn't snap your head off for accidentally touching it as you go by. Or he agrees to watch a movie with you or listen to a podcast despite how he feels about technology.

Maybe it's just a quiet night, sitting next to each other, each reading a book, his radio playing softly for background noise, and you look up to him to ask a question or say something and he's already watching you, a small, adoring smile on his face.

Take your pick of which one is the moment where your heart stops, your breath catches, and you realize that you wanna marry this man.

And then your delulu ass wakes up, lol.

Decide for yourself if you'd go through with a proposal or if you just accept how things are.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #sorry this isn't what you asked for #it's the best I could do

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syscardinal · 9 months ago

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hihi!! i love your art sm !!

im curious on how you draw your chibis? they are so squishy and theyre like mochis and blueberry muffins (in the best way o m gee) !!

like hows the anatomy/posing work for you? tips would be super super helpful wow

Hi! First of all, thank you! This is a hard one cuz I dont usually draw chibis ehe, but I will try to aid you with the few knowlegment I got. As you can see, I have a lot of styles when it comes to draw cheebs but I think i can resume it in one word: SIMPLIFY

For example, here's a drawing of Gaming I did. Let's dig into it!!

First I tried to replicate the same pose Gaming has in his official art, notice that this not have to follow exactly the same guidelines. "Why?" Well because when drawing a chibi, theres some limitations since the body shrunkens, there is a variety on how cheeb anatomy works but I'll get to that point later-

Forget about detailing too much, like putting in the cheeb every wrinkle of the clothes, every strand of hair or every little costure. With this I am not saying that you have to get rid of ,for example, Furina's decorations in her hat, instead you can simplify them!! If you consider that detail important enough just draw it! (See the image for a example on how I do it)

Negative Space oh man my art teacher used to talk about this a lot and in chibis this is SUPER relevant. A good negative space always leads to clarity, and since cheebs are a really little thing,what we want is exactly that, clarity. Try to make a clear silloutte of what you are trying to convey in the chibi, this will make it look 10 times better for starters.

Lastly, dont forget that cheebs follow the same rules as a normal drawing(like line of action, perspective, etc) In case of cheebs though is usual for the heads, eyes and mouth to be bigger, I'll explain in more detail this below!

Here's the speedpaint for more detail:

Lets go now with Anatomy and Proportions, as I was saying above, there is a lot of variety in cheebs anatomy. I dont think there is a wrong or correct way to draw a chibi here, there is just a lot of ways to draw them altough usually it follows these points:

Chibis are no more than 3 heads in height, after that it just stops feeling like a chibi drawing.

Eyes tends to be bigger, generaly eyes occupies 1/3 of the head. In my case I like to make the ears also just as big as the eyes with the shape of a bean or simply a circle. Moving to the mouth, I draw a simple shape of a triangle, just including the teeths when they smile.

Depending on the proportions you choose, it will give you different results, here you have to choose what you want for your chibi, for example: A proportion of the size of 2 heads + It gives you the liberty of draw more details and complex poses. On the other side a proportion of 1 head or less makes the chibi simpler but at the same time more cute to look at(see my examples at the end of this post!)

Last but not least, use this chart just as a reference, you can draw the bodies roundier, taller, tinier. Its up to your liking!!

Hope that this was not too overwhelming haha, I am not an expert on drawing cheebs but they are fun to try! I tried to summarize my own knowledge and mixed it with some google search(ehe)

Please dont hesitate to try as much as you want, there is a lot of ways to draw the tiny ones and none of them is incorrect. Hope this helps you and thanks for reading!!!

Here are the examples I mentioned above!!

#asks #syscardinal #tutorial #chibi #havefun!

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lotusarchon · 2 months ago

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I had to make a whole google doc to sort my thoughts on this, that's how mad I am tbh. My friends have made explanations which you can find here, and here. And while I told myself that after that post I was done, seeing my friend receive a comment like this was the final pushing point I needed.

I'm both going to ramble about Nezha here again, and I'm going to try and explain this in a way that'll get people to understand, as someone who once followed an Eastern religion too + I'm going to be stating my basic thoughts here so maybe some things won't make sense.

Mild info about me: I'm from Trinidad. My family is described with East Indian descent but clearly, I'm not from India itself. My knowledge of Hinduism is rather basic because I quit religion thanks to traumatic experiences related to it, however not lacking fully. From my father's side, specifically his mother, they practice Hinduism and can even be considered devout Hindus (if I'm to believe all the statues and pictures of about almost every single Hindu god). Though my knowledge is basic, understand that I'm not Hindu nor Indian, so of course these are my opinions and my experiences with Hinduism, and I do not advise you taking my word fully to heart. I'm only trying to explain something to the LMK fandom in the best way I know how too, by referencing another Eastern religion that isn't half as popular as Daoism/Buddhism.

There's only one show I know where Hinduism is portrayed, and it's an anime/manga series called Record Of Ragnarok (Shuumatsu No Valkyrie), and from what I know it's not well liked by others (and even banned I think?) because of the fact Shiva is weaker than Zeus and the supposed sexualization of Parvati, Kali and Durga? It's been a while so I could be wrong on this though.

Why am I bringing this topic up to a rant about a lego character though?

#1) Fiction vs Religion and Reality

While one half expresses discontent and discomfort, I've seen others who clearly don't mind because Shiva is still badass and cool. I myself had some qualms about his appearance in the beginning because while I did quit religion, this was a god I used to worship, and seeing him in an anime/manga and be sexualized and simped for was…uncanny, to say the least. Overtime I grew numb to it though because it was genuinely funny and even I, an ex Hindu, found him attractive, and had not much hesitation writing smut about him in past fics.

Similarly, I can imagine this is how Daoists and Chinese had originally felt about Nezha in Lego Monkie Kid [Only referencing LMK with Chinese deities. I'm aware there could be other media where they're in.] A bit weird at first but then overall got used to it because there's genuinely no harm done, as it's not meant to be an educational retelling of a god, but a fictional portrayal of him.

Returning to the point I mentioned with Shiva. When I first came across this series in 2021 (?), I did not feel too happy and comfortable with the image of a deity I've grown up worshipping as a child. I quit religion when I turned 13, so it's been nearly five years since I've had nothing to do with the main religion of my household; Hinduism. Still, I practically grew up worshipping this god I was taught to fear, and seeing a potrayal of him (which honestly in my opinion) didn't seem like a good thing at the time.

Why did I eventually stop being bothered? Because this wasn't supposed to be retelling of Shiva. This was just a character with similarities to the god I worshipped, but wasn't the god. The series I watched wasn't even intending to teach audiences about any of the religions and real life figures they portrayed, they simply used them as inspiration to tell a story. They weren't accurate representations, but that was the point. It's a story about gods vs humans from history; of course it wasn't going to be accurate nor stay true to the figure they took inspiration from.

You can imagine then for a cartoon series meant to sell Legos. Lego Monkie Kid contains several characters that are known in Chinese myths and legends/religions. Of the most popular mentioned, there is Sun Wukong, one of the main characters in the series, Tang Sanzang otherwise known as Tripitaka and the Great Monk, Lady Guanyin mentioned in season 1, the one the fandom argues about, Nezha, the Jade Emperor in season 4, and most recently, Nuwa, and Heavenly Pagoda King, Li Jing. There may be others but these are the ones that are most known within the fandom.

Mind you some of these figures are still very much worshipped now, but, point remains: the series was never intended to be a retelling of these characters stories, nor were they intended to be educational for audiences. They took inspiration directly, gave their own twists, and hence you have the story of LMK, meant to originally promote Legos and then eventually gave way to the series that this fandom belongs too.

These characters are not their source material, nor the origins of which they came from as religious figures. Sun Wukong is a Buddha within JTTW’s ends and if I'm right is still worshipped as such sometimes (?). He didn't hide away into a mountain at the end of his journey. His companions didn't die, nor were they reincarnated, but instead also acquired titles and became Buddhas as well. (Or gods? I frankly don't remember). Tang Sanzang as we've in season 4 was not some sort of brave, astute man in the book but rather a crybaby coward. Need I even point out that Nezha wouldn't have a giant mech to fight people, nor would he have such close deposition with the Jade Emperor? Or the fact that the Jade Emperor would be bested by someone like Azure Lion?

Not even counting Journey To The West and the Fengshen Yanyi, the real Tang Sanzang that Wu Cheng’en took inspiration of most certainly did not have a monkey, a pig, a water demon and a dragon turned horse with him on his journey.

Why speak of all this?

To make my first point; religion and fiction are two very different things. Religion has existed for who knows how long, and fiction has recently decided to include fictional potrayals of these gods into stories and cartoons. From a writer's perspective, it's really interesting taking something that is a part of religion and writing it into your own works, with your own take on it.

And of course, brings me to the topic of Nezha.

Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is, according to an official writer within the show's team, an adult. Although many fans have their objections about this, supposedly because Nezha in other sources is a child god, and think that the writer only abruptly pointed out Nezha's an adult to save her own skin.

Taking all my points in consideration; let me humour the Nezha is a child god idea. What, exactly, does this have to do with Nezha in Monkie Kid?

If Nezha, the god within Daoism and Buddhism, is supposedly a child deity, what law says that any other potryal of Nezha has to abide by this?

By this logic. Shiva in the anime I mentioned above shouldn't be weaker than Zeus. He also shouldn't even be agreeing to fight mortals, as he's a deity far above such petty behavior. Zeus shouldn't be portrayed in books like PJO as a lecherous cheater, because in reality, Ancient Greece consisted of multiple kingdoms and thereby different interpretations of Zeus were merged together which is what consists of the myths we know of him today which is highly disrespectful, and Sun Wukong shouldn't be a mentor to MK, because he's supposed to be a Buddhist, and thereby wouldn't be entertaining fighting nuances.

Fiction doesn't not adhere to reality. The fact I need to say this astounds me because should this not be obvious? Lego Monkie Kid is a cartoon set in some sci-fi futuristic world with lego people walking around, where gods somehow need mechs to go around fighting, and there are animal-like demons/yaoguai walking around here and there. There is literally an arcade in the show with zero gravity. Do you possibly believe for a miniscule second that anything that goes down in a fictional setting will adhere to our reality??

And, even then, humouring the Nezha being a child deity concept > what law says that he has to be portrayed as a child in other pieces of fiction?? Especially when the fictional setting is not meant to be a retelling or for educational purposes, but rather to carry a plot.

There is nothing, no law, no rules that insists that a religious figure must be portrayed as they are in a legend/myth for a fictional world.

Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is not the deity Nezha. He is a completely different character, which many of you should have realized from the exact moment he was brought into the show. They are not the same person. Never was.

“Oh, it's disrespectful―” From a writer's perspective, I personally don't think so. If I wanted to make a story that involved a god, I wouldn't keep everything that makes that god who they are. There are some key points I would keep to make the story, but I would ultimately create an OC that shares some attributes to this religious figure, but it wouldn't be him. The show Record of Ragnarok does a good job with this in my opinion, because while many characters share some attributes to the real figures they're inspired by, the writers changed several things to create a proper story, and thereby making these characters OCs and not the actual gods themselves, and of course that logic applies to Lego Monkie Kid.

In the instance, again, Nezha the god from Daoism, is in fact a child deity, Nezha in LMK isn't. Nezha in LMK is someone who's entirely different from the god himself.

So, the logic this fandom uses confuses me a lot. Do you not understand how to seperate fiction from religion?? Do many of you not understand media literacy, and what a writing process is like?

Sigh. Moving to another point―

#2) Character Designs

Sometimes, when it comes to character designs, anyone could just throw them into anything and think, “Yeah that's good.” Not much thought is given to a character's appearances depending, which I don't really blame as someone who's 1) done literature as a hobby and has seen my fair share of character designs, 2) creates characters myself. It's too hard thinking of a character's appearance, and even then when making them there normally wouldn't be any significance.

Nezha's design in LMK seems to be a huge source of debate when arguing about his age. It was actually brought up in my previous post, specifically that his hairstyle was often used by children at the time.

I have a bone to pick with this point.

This is Nezha from Lego Monkie Kid:

However, this is Mei from the same show:

Before anyone starts, allow me to point out as a history geek that likes religion and pointless facts over politics: I am aware that there are different hairstyles to show certain things, including one's age and status and sometimes even personality. Do not bring up any points about the differences in these characters hairstyles with an excuse, “Oh, but you should know―”, because I know how hairstyles could be treated within history.

However. Look at Nezha's hairstyle, and then Mei's. I've never seen the LMK fandom complain about Mei's age, because it was generally believed that MK and Mei are both at least 18 if not older, as the legal age for a driver's license in China is 18.

Both Nezha and Mei are wearing a ‘bun’ type hairstyle. Mei's is arguably more of twin ponytails (?), but I'm not a hairstylist, so I don't know what they're called. To me they look similar, that's all I'm trying to say. And even if they weren't though―through a modern lense, a hairstyle isn't reserved for just any specific age. Anyone can wear a hairstyle they want. Keep in mind that the creators of LMK are also Western(?), and they chose a hairstyle for these two characters based on personality and appearances.

A hairstyle is not reserved for any age. Grown women including my aunts have worn hairstyles similar to these just for fun.

That's point one.

Point two; Nezha is a very popular deity, much like Sun Wukong. In terms of recognition, Sun Wukong is very easy to recognize because of his staff and his overall cocky personality.

Nezha however is an entirely different case. Most media potrayals of him always has the two-bun hairstyle of him, which is what makes Nezha recognizable. If you remove that specific hairstyle of his, you won't recognize him. It's iconic, and pointed out in this scene (The Legend of Hei) where Nezha makes an appearance as well.

youtube

[Characters sitting together. White haired boy (Hei + MC) looks at the older, dark haired boy (Nezha). Nezha looks back.]

Nezha: What? You want an autograph?

Hei: You're a boy?

Nezha: Yeah?

Hei: Your hairstyle is cute.

[Nezha looks in front with an annoyed expression.]

Nezha: If it weren't for the recognizability, I'd have changed it long ago.

Hei: Recognizability?

[Nezha removes the buns(? some form of them?) from his head. Three older figures glance at him.]

???: Who are you?

[Scene returns]

Nezha: See?

Aka, point being made: those buns are what makes Nezha recognizable. If he doesn't have that hairstyle, unless it's specifically pointed out, I'm certain majority would not recognize him.

Some hairstyles are meant to be done for some form of meaning. But sometimes, as is the case with designs, they're just there just because no one wanted to make the characters bald. Using the excuse about Nezha's hairstyle to justify his age as a child is by far the lamest and dumbest excuse I've ever heard of, because the creators did not give him that hairstyle for the sake of some meaning anymore than MK was given his current hairstyle either. It's his logo at this point, ignoring his color scheme aside.

Even then, if the creators of Lego Monkie Kid intended for Nezha to be a child within the show, he would not appear as he is. Lego Monkie Kid has made children models, which we can see here (used from s3 and up in case someone tries to excuse the differences in seasons):

And of course, Nezha's model;

Despite the perspective and low quality though, he's at least the same height as Red Son here:

If Lego Monkie Kid truly intended for Nezha to be a child, his appearance and model would be similar to the children's in the show. Perspective is difficult to find but you can clearly see he's about the same height as the other adult characters if not taller, and is not small like the child figures we see.

Pink isn't a children's color, and nothing about Nezha's clothing indicates a child. He very much looks like an adult and doesn't exhibit childish behavior as we see Red Son, Mei and MK do.

I've seen fans use his voice to point out he's an adult, but I'm not sure that's a valid point. I say this as someone who has a 13 year old brother and was recently a minor myself.

Allow me to clarify: a voice isn't a clear proof of age. My father is a 45 year old man but sounds very much like a woman/teenage girl. My brother is 13 and sounds more of an adult than his father. My classmate in highschool was one year older than me and his voice was very high-pitched.

The voice actors in LMK are directed to speak a certain way for a reason…in English. I'm not sure about Mandarin. In my opinion, Wukong's voice sounds like Son Goku's because it's a reference to the fact Wukong is what inspired Goku. Nezha's probably sounds deep and brooding not because he's a child but because it almost represents his own personality, and probably is a reference from another shonen protagonist Ichigo Kurosaki. MK's voice in the beginning sounds really childish to me but slowly as the events of s3, 4 and 5 happen it gets more deeper almost as a reference to show how his ‘innocence’ is slowly fading.

Or, I might be looking to into it. Regardless, tdlr, don't use Nezha's voice in your argument. I've seen grown ass men have high pitched voices.

Returning to my original point however; if you have an ounce of media literacy and understanding, you should be aware that some character designs are chosen for a reason. Nezha's icon is those two bun hairstyle, and the writers purposely chose it so old fans/readers of JTTW and FSYY and maybe other Chinese/Daoists would be able to recognize him and go, “Hey, that's Nezha from―”

Before I got into LMK, I read JTTW and also saw The Legend of Hei and the Nezha 2019 movie, so I knew him because of the hairstyle. And my first instinct of course was to point out, “That's the dude from TLOH!!” when I saw him. So, the hairstyle was chosen for the recognizability, and I highly doubt as a sign of age.

Even then, LMK Nezha aside, moving on to a different point.

#3) Sources Of Inspiration

The 21st century isn't really the first era where people are taking inspiration from other cultures. As a matter of fact, it's been happening for decades, and it's very prominent in religion, which someone of you would know if you both a) actually did proper research, b) gave a shit about what you're researching and c) studied history.

Hilariously, I have done all three of the above.

I'm going to use a popular example here with Sun Wukong and Hanuman. Hinduism is supposedly largely considered one of the oldest religions in the world. If you truly think about it, certain Daoist deities are loosely inspired or are versions of Hindu gods, which I'm going to use here with a popular example (and provide a link too).

― Sun Wukong and Hanuman. The earliest Vedic records mention one of the supposed known monkey gods, and their similarities make scholars suggest Hanuman inspired Sun Wukong. Specifically his figure in JTTW, where it's speculated that the author must've had a copy of Vedic (?) hymns. While Sun Wukong does predate JTTW, Hanuman definitely has had some influence on him.

Much, much similarly, the deity known as Nezha, is also loosely inspired/based off the figure known as Nalakuvara, who appears in Hindu and Buddhist mythology, and often appears as a sexual trickster figure in Hindu and Buddhist literature.

Historically speaking, when it comes to religion and myths, something many people fail to understand is that before there was the idea of writing to tell a story, there was the process known as sharing from mouth to ear. Not in a literal sense, but rather that people often preferred to tell stories via word of mouth back then, and as things always go in history, there will be changes. The proof is literally right there. Nezha was originally known as Nalakuvara, yet when transmitted through Buddhist texts, he became known as Nazha, then Nezha. And as such, the Lotus Prince and Chinese god known as Nezha was created. A combination of Nalakuvara and the child god Krishna.

A lot of people will want to jump on that specific point that mentions Krishna being a child god, so allow me to immediately put you down right there.

Ex Hindu here; I did not even know there was a portrayal of Krishna as a child. Up until I stopped practicing Hinduism, I used to worship Krishna as an adult figure. In the paintings and statues my aunts had for Diwali as a child, he was always showcased as an adult.

Ironically, doesn't this apply for the actual god Nezha too?

When it comes to religion and myths, many of you forget something very important; there is no such thing as a canon iteration. These aren't shows, these are stories from the past told through different people, and passed through many hands. There is no such thing as a canon version because almost everyone had their own version of a myth or story. Terms you may typically apply to fandoms don't apply to fucking religions and myths, and some of you are so chronically online that you forget it.

#4) The LMK Fandom's Chronically Online Attitude

I'm an ex Hindu who still faintly remembers some bits and pieces from my childhood while practicing this religion, especially during the Diwali period, where little me managed to get new information from library books about the gods my family worshipped. I personally didn't like sitting during the priest's (forgot what he was called) chanting though but the funny white thingy we used to have to wear was fun.

There are some Hindu gods I'm familiar with, like Lakshmi, Kali, Durga and the other versions of her (I still can't recover from the one statue with her in a fish..) Parvati, Shiva, Vishnu, Hanuman (yaah), Rama and Sita, Ganesh (also yah) and of course, Krishna. I also have watched my fair share of childhood movies and cartoons where the gods were mentioned or present―Karan & Arjun specifically struck the fear in me with Kali 😭😭 holy fuck that movie scared me with the creepy edits jeez T-T. There was also that one cartoon about Rama and Sita”s story specifically Hanuman, and this Indian TV series where this little girl was a loyal devotee to Ganesha (I had no idea rats were one of his uh signature animals holy shit).

I'm rambling here a bit because the childhood memories were fun, but the point I'm going for is though….

I am familiar with these gods I grew up with. And I know about them, maybe not enough but certainly enough to know how to properly respect them from back then.

And, using Krishna as a prime example; if someone came up to me, or I came across anyone, who argues that the god I know is an immortal child, even though I have worshipped and adult version of him, I'd be so fucking pissed. Krishna is seen as an adult, I worshipped him as an adult, but there are cases where he's a child god, and that's fine! But to have someone tell you that you're wrong about the god you know about because they got some basic information off the internet, undoubtedly, I'm going to be pissed. Especially when it's from a Western fan who has no fucking brain.

So, of course, imagine how devotees of Nezha and Chinese people must be feeling every single time this fandom fucks about with Nezha's age. I saw it myself; people told my friend that a) she was lying and b) her statement is irrelevant just because “I did my proper research, and even if you're Chinese you can still be a proshipper, Nezha's a child deity.”

It's genuinely so fucked up to me how the LMK fandom act towards Nezha's age. You guys will ignore the people who are willing to provide accurate information for the sake of being in the right and accusing people for being a proshipper over a deity they have more experience with than you, a Western fan who has no knowledge of Eastern religion.

It's insane. There are actual Daoist and Chinese who are pointing out the fact Nezha isn't an immortal fucking child.

You're not only disrespectful, you insane, childish and most importantly chronically online. Nezha the god isn't a fictional character, there's nothing ‘canon’ about him. He's a god who's lived for decades longer than you, and his existence predates yours. People have long sinced worshipped Nezha, and the fact that you can so boldly tell someone they're wrong about the god they've worshipped is so disrespectful.

Do you not realize, as Nezha is worshipped as a child, he's worshipped as an adult? Do you not take into account how absolutely disgusting and horrible you are telling Daoists and Chinese who have stated time and time again the information of Nezha being an immortal child is factually incorrect that they're wrong and know nothing??

I'm repeating my statement; I'm an ex Hindu, but if anyone told me that Krishna's an immortal child too and then point out I'm wrong and my point doesn't matter, I would be seething. And I don't blame my friend who's losing their temper about Nezha's age.

What amazes me though, somehow, is the fact that. If anyone who was Chinese + Daoist agreed with your claims, as Cole from Twitter once did, none of you would've spoken that way to my friend. But of course, once she points out she's Chinese/ex Daoist and disagrees with you, majority of the opinions switched because, she wasn't agreeing with your headcanon, right? So even though she's Chinese, she's bad because she disagreed with you.

You're all disgusting and fucking weird.

And the fact y'all in this fandom will habitually prove yourselves as hypocrites by attacking people, and then ignoring the ones who are capable of proving you're wrong to cling to a false idea is insane. You guys need some actual help, holy fucking shit.

Nezha isn't an immortal child. That's a god. If he was intended to be a child in LMK, there would've been statements about it.

Seperate fiction from religion, and seperate your headcanon from canon and the actual god. If you think this biased headcanon is okay and attacking people that point you out for being wrong is somehow okay, I sincerely ask that you take a break from the internet, and read a book.

No, don't just read a book. Read a history book. Pick up some knowledge, understand how religion and history works.

Furthermore. The research some of you guys are doing is actually shit, by the way. You guys aren't researching properly if you can pull up with Nezha is 12, thing. If you actually cared about his age, you'd put more effort and actually stop being disrespectful to the people who are giving you the proper information. You only research surface level so you can attack people.

And additionally, stop playing the Devil's advocate. Most of you are just Western fans who think you know everything from reading one book or watching one show. You read JTTW or watch OSP’s videos and suddenly, you know more than an actual Chinese person or Daoist. You look up Wikipedia and think, “Oh yeah, I'll go with this!” And that's it. Most of you at best can provide only three websites at most, and I can bet my ass that these websites with information about Nezha's age was written by a fan who got their information from a shit source.

I love History, and most specifically, I love religion. Not so much the divine aspects as it is about the myths that surround it. Whenever I get into a fandom, I need to find out more about their religion and history. Getting into JTTW, and eventually, LMK, pushed me into a rabbit hole of Chinese myths that I really enjoy learning. But dealing with idiots who think they know more?? It's sickening as shit.

I'd like to think I'm good at literature things because once it's a religion or myth I want to learn everything about it. But I know I don't know everything, and I know especially I have more to learn. I'd never tell someone who is a part or worships the religion/culture I'm learning that they're factually incorrect about it just because I have an opinion and I learnt my info from a random source.

You guys in the LMK fandom are incredibly entitled. The Nezha is 12 controversy is a headcanon, which became worst by that asshat Cole on Twitter. And because so many of you don't want to learn the truth, whenever someone tries to point out and help you, you ignore them or attack them, and deny their heritage.

And honestly?? You guys suck.

And this is coming from me!! Some of y'all are grown ass adults too!! And yet I'm childish and immature!?!

Brother I literally turned 18 a few months ago, yet I'm 100% certain I'm not throwing a blasted hissy fit over a fucking god the way some of you all who are most definitely adults are doing.

And finally, the one thing that actually does make me laugh is because I'm pretty sure most of you didn't do History classes. One of the most important things my history teacher taught me is; don't use Wikipedia as a source of viable information. Thousands of people are capable of accessing Wikipedia and changing information as they want, and so it's much better to find book solid resources from libraries. I did in fact use Wikipedia too (hypocritical of me yeah) so of course I wouldn't advise using the screenshots I provided from Wikipedia as evidence to the argument, because anything on Wikipedia can be changed. If I'm feeling extra petty I could change something myself to be in the right.

Furthermore, if you dare to bring up only JTTW and FSSY as a plausible argument about Nezha's age, I'm genuinely going to throw hands and fuck your mother. I think my friend also mentioned it in their posts but I'll mention it here too; JTTW does NOT state Nezha's age. I've read JTTW, and aside from Wukong vs Nezha there's nothing else that states Nezha's age. For all we're aware of, Wukong called Nezha a kid just out of spite, and I do it too when I'm arguing with someone. FSSY is the Investiture of the Gods and the ORIGINS!! Do you THINK a book about the ORIGINS of the gods would focus on other aspects about them!!? No!!

I expect some of the arguments I might get are;

"Oh, Nezha [appearances] could be wearing a glamor!" That is a headcanon, as we see nothing in LMK to refute that. Macaque's scar is canon because it's shown within the show. Nezha's appearance has NOT fluctuated since he was introduced. The idea of him using a glamor or illusion is a HEADCANON unless proven by the show. And headcanons are NOT vital.

"But you use Wikipedia too :(" Which I pointed out and made aware of, which is I also doubt that source myself. If any of you did History, your teachers are supposed to INFORM you that using a website is NOT a good idea for backing up information, and it's much better to use books or other trusted sources. In the case of Nezha, I'm trusting actual Daoists/Chinese who knows more about him than I do. It's because I did PROPER research that I even came across a good source of information, aka @ruibaozha, who I'm sure can share more light on this than me! The fact that some of you guys won't even acknowledge them is almost proof that...you're clinging to a headcanon. Jackass.

"But Nezha in JTTW/FSSY are 7/12 and that's where LMK takes it's inspiration from so obviously―" We've seen for a fact LMK does NOT follow JTTW to the letter. Jade Emperor beating Wukong?? Lady Bone Demon being a powerful foe and being trapped in a bunker? Azure even being able to kill the Emperor? Majority of the LMK fandom likes to point out that LMK Macaque and JTTW Macaque are two different people, especially when you claim that Macaque is a bad character because he cannibalized the monkeys. So then, with this logic, JTTW Nezha, FSSY Nezha, and LMK Nezha are also three seperate figures. I swear someone made a post about the differences JTTW and FSSY Nezha have too, but I can't find it so meh. The point still remains though. LMK Nezha are two different people, you're not making any sense to me about that argument. Even then, LMK isn't taking direct inspiration and putting their own twist. Who says anything needs to be accurate??

"The writer only said Nezha's an adult to ship lotuspeach!" Are you faintly aware people, actual Chinese people, have shipped these characters together? Proshippers can come from anywhere but I genuinely doubt every single person is a proshipper because of course, they're aware their god isn't an eternal child. On top of that, in a situation like this another writer would point out that Nezha ISN'T an adult. No one has argued against this claim, so why persist? Where's your logic coming from if not entitlement?

I want this to be the last time I have to talk about Nezha, because I made my blog to write porn and me smooching my favorite LMK characters. I kinda don't really like making discussions like this because that's not the point of my blog.

However...I do like rambling. A lot :)))

Anyways, point blank. LMK fandom needs to grow out of this entitled mindset and stop ignoring the facts from experts. You guys are just being annoying at this point.

My argument isn't really valid tbh, just pointless rambling because I only know basic information. I think you guys should find proper information from accounts online.

Also, if you're gonna argue: don't bring be albeist, racist etc etc. I'm capable of cussing you out without bringing up your mental health, race or identity :)))

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hacked-by-jake · 6 months ago

Text

I'm especially sad about the AI art statement.

No one ever said they can't use AI in general. Nobody said this. As long as they don't let the chats be written by AI they can use it for whatever they want.

Me personally, I'm a little fan of AI in general. ChatGPT took Googles place in many situations for me. It's super easy, super interesting and faster. I use it instead of reading millions of Google sites. (of course I don't trust everything right away, check your sources, lovelies)

But that's not what I want to say.

I saw no one complaining about the usage of AI in general. As long as its not creating the whole game and especially not what the characters say etc.

The critism was about the usage of AI ART, not AI in general, completely missing the point in my eyes.

And yes, they're right. AI became a huge part of our lives now. We find it everywhere and we won't get rid of it again. That won't happen. For me, it's okay as long as it's not used to generate money by letting it write texts and stuff.

And I'm completely fine with them using it. Of course, it's still stealing and I won't deny that, but as I said, we won't get rid of it again.

But the usage of AI generated Art is wrong and should actually be illegal. They, as a small developer studio, they should know and they do know, how it is when your work gets stolen and used by strangers.

And that's exactly what AI does. And that's not okay. It simply isn't. Every generated art is based on hundreds of real arts our there. The smallest artist who posts their work will be a victim of that. Because AI pulls it's knowledge and the ability for art out of every little art source there is. And that's wrong.

And I'm disappointed about their statement with this point.

And the second statement about AI art...

Yes, it's wonderful that you will introduce new actors to us. Great, amazing. And yes, we do remember how it was in Duskwood. And we do remember that actors were introduced after some time. Hannah joined in the last episode, and this was great.

But the huge difference is, you used stock photos. Real photography. Real designs. Created by photographers or whoever. The point here is: Real human. And real work.

I don’t think I'm the only one. But the first second I saw the profile picture of Ash, immediately I was like "Hm, that reminds me straight up of arcane"

Which is logical when you use AI generated art because the AI of course uses at first the most popular references.

Fact is: We don't support the usage of AI Art in Moonvale.

Question is: Why didn't you use stock photos just like you did before?

Everbytes answer: Yes, okay, we can change their profile pictures. (Point done)

And I mean, come on. Violet has a freaking cat as profile picture. Where was the problem with just using a real cat for that? Nothing easier than finding a good picture of cats! 😭

And if you didn't want to use stock photos. Have you seen how many incredibly talented digital artists your fandom has? Have you seen the insanely good work they created for your game?

How about contacting a few of them? How about asking them to draw the characters you wanted to have? I'm 100% sure you wouldn't even have to pay them for. Most of them would do it for free right away.

Plus: Real art created by real people

Plus two: No money spending.

Yeeey.

And if you don’t want that...., ✨STOCK PHOTOS✨

To be honest, they took a crumb of the criticism, twisted it a bit. Used the word AI, twisted a bit more, left their statement and at the end they gave us a small little victory by saying "They get new profile picture, see we're listening to you". They gave us a little "victory" so that we hopefully will be satisfied and not mention it again.

That's it for this topic. For now

#moonvale #moonvale x duskwood #hbj mv x dw talks #hbj mv talks #everbyte studio #everbyte statement #everbyte moonvale statement #moonvale episode 1 #moonvale thoughts

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onskepa · 10 months ago

Note

Can we get a sully kids x romanian human reader? She speaks english too but her nationality is romanian. In romanian language you pronounce every single letter.

For example

Biscuit - BISKIT (in english)

Biscuit - BIS + CU + IT (romanian)

And they are so dumbfounded about why she pronounces every letter and why no accent.

Hellooooooooo darling~!! Okie so for this I did had to use a lot of google and romanian youtube videos to understand how it sounds. So, hopefully I am closely to being accurate as I can. Lemme know if this is to your satisfaction! Enjoy!

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

Simplu

When you learn a new language, and can now speak fluently, you would feel pretty damn proud. To speak it so well and hold a conversation with a native speaker feels very rewarding and opens a new path of possibilities. And that is how the sully kids felt when they were learning how to speak english. While basic, each of them had their own level of learning it. Kiri and lo’ak were super quick to pick it up, tuk is still learning while neteyam is getting there.

However, they are all in the level of holding simple conversations with the science guys. So every time they enter the labs, it's all english and they can't help but flex their vast knowledge of big words. To say, the sully kids were very confident and think they can understand the human language flawlessly.

“M-am întors din călătoria mea!”

Simplu, the name that comes along with a young woman who entered the human lab. Everyone welcomed her like an old friend. Apparently she was, often leaving the labs to risk her life for the sake of learning new things. Mostly about pandora wildlife. Often going out to follow herds or follow distinct animal behaviors to understand them better.

And she was amazing. Introduced herself to the kids. And the sully children were liking her already, with her welcoming aura and contagious smile. They feel comfortable around Simplu, however there is just one problem.

“Nu veți crede ce am reușit să învăț cu unele dintre animale”

She speaks a language called “Romanian”

But when she speaks english

“Hello children, come along. There is so many things I would like to share with you”

Her english is oddly clear yet has an interesting speech pattern compared to the other humans.

“Umm…excuse me?” Kiri nervously touches the shoulder of the young woman. Turning around, Simplu looks up at her “da?”.

“Da…? Im not da” kiri tells, feeling confused. Simplu shakes her head and waves her hand a bit, “oh I am so sorry, yes? Is there something you would like to say?” simplu tells with such patience. Her smile reaches Kiri, making her smile too. “If it is not so rude to ask but….”

“Why do you talk so differently?” Tuk asks abruptly. Neteyam and lo’ak had to shush her. Kiri made a little hiss to warn Tuk, but simplu simply shrugged. “Sorry, its just….we have mastered the English language and can talk well like how I am. Yet, when you talk, from the fluent sounds of words, you sound it out. Every single letter, "Kiri explains.

Putting down a cup simplu was drinking from, her full attention on the children. “Ah, so you are all curious why I sound different?” she asks, all of the kids nodded in unison. Grabbing a little ball of rubber, she begins to play with it. “Well, before Pandora, I lived in a country called Romania, a place on planet earth. Every country there speaks a different language. So, when you speak your native tongue for so long, it takes time to get accustomed to speaking a new language” she explains.

“Oooohhh….the other science guys!” Tuk concludes.

“Yes, correct tuk” Simplu praises, as a little reward she hands tuk a little piece of candy to which the child gladly accepts.

“Yes, so when I speak as I do now, the sounds of the letters tend to be slightly different. I know there are plenty of fluent sounding words, but with my accent, I tend to sound out every letter. When I know I shouldn't but it happens” Simplu explains further.

“So the language you tend to talk in. Is that your native language?” Neteyam asks. Nodding happily, simplu gives neteyam a little piece of candy too.

“Indeed, often the names of a language are named after the place it is mostly spoken in. So, since I lived in Romania, my mother tongue is Romanian. Much like you all, you are na’vi, so you speak the na’vi language. Or, the Pandorian language. Though, it is not as unique sounding as calling it that”.

“So, your language….how do you speak it?” lo’ak asks. Simplu gives him candy.

“Salut prietene” Simplu says.

“S-saoot…pree…prrrreeee….”

The kids were trying their best to copy and learn the Romanian language. But its a lot harder to learn than it seems.

“S-a-l-u-t p-r-i-e-t-e-n-e” simplu sounds out the word more slowly for the sully kids to catch on. But tuk sighs in frustration, “you make it sound so easy! And without your accent too!” she whines.

Deciding to take a little break from their lesson, the sully kids huddle around simplu as she hands out more candy. “Well, I speak my language well. It is just like how you speak in yours, you dont hear an accent. Your voice becomes clear as day. It is used to speaking that way” simplu explains.

“Your language makes the english language look easy” kiri comments. Her siblings agreeing with her.

“Yes, there are many different types of languages to learn from. Some are easy, and some take a long time to grasp. But, since you have mastered one language, I have no doubts you will master the Romanian language” simplu encourages.

Though, a little idea popped in kiri’s head.

“Romania, you said you were from there. Can you tell us what it was like over there?” she asks.

This sparked a new excitement for simplu. Clapping her hands in glee she replies, “well rațele mele mici, let's start with where it is….”

Okie so this definitely was a little challenging. I hope I got the Romanian its down. Hope you all enjoyed this one! See ya!

--------

Simplu = Simple

“M-am întors din călătoria mea!” = I have returned from my travel!

Nu veți crede ce am reușit să învăț cu unele dintre animale. = You will not believe what I managed to learn about with some of the animals.

Salut prietene = hello my friend

rațele mele mici = my little ducks

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some-creep · 8 months ago

Text

Here's my longer than anticipated prototype Falke fic. I'll reblog this later with an AO3 link but right now I can't get any of the formatting to stay because it's on Google drive and I'm on mobile

She awakens to a blinding white light. Her body is stiff and feels foreign as she tries to work out how her limbs work. It is with remarkable difficulty that she manages to push her body upright, only to double over at the unexpected weight of her frame. She gives a moment of pause, trying to make sense of her surroundings as her head threatens to split in two at every errant thought. Her stomach, which she suspects to be empty, still threatens to spill its contents all over her lap. Long before her eyes have the chance to focus, she hears a new sound over the mechanical buzzing that persists throughout the room. Voices. Unfamiliar. Then, an unknown force guiding her to lay back down which she does not fight. Her ears strain to listen, but the words do not make sense.

“I knew it. I told you I had a good feeling about this one, didn't I?”

“You did, but just because she's woken up doesn't mean she'll–”

“She will. If not, she can be molded like all the others.”

“Yes, but her neural pattern is highly unpredictable given the donor. Not to mention the experimental bioresonance module that–”

“Enough.”

The voices fall silent. She can only wonder what they were discussing, though she has no time to dwell on the specifics. Someone begins to stroke her hair, causing her eyes to flutter back open. They are nothing more than a fuzzy gray shape looming over her, and no matter how many times she blinks, her eyes refuse to focus.

“Can you see me? Adjust the calibration on her eyes.”

They wait for a moment before her vision begins to clear through a means she cannot understand. She is staring up at a dark haired woman she does not recognize, her outline haloed by the bright overhead light.

“Good morning, Falke.” Her face beams with pride but the name that falls from her lips sparks no recognition.

She can only lay there, trying to study her face in hopes that doing so can grant her the knowledge she desires. It seems, she thinks, like she is meant to respond, but she does not know what to say or how to say it. She furrows her brow in confusion, hoping it will suffice for an answer.

“You're going to do great things for us. Do you know that? You're very special.”

She manages to tilt her head to the side just enough to make it clear she's still confused. The woman above her doesn't seem surprised by this fact. She doesn't know what makes her special or what great things she is going to do. In fact, she isn't even sure how she knows anything and why there are gaps in what knowledge she does have.

She has no memory of a moment before this one, yet, in a general sense, she understands the world around her. The woman speaking to her appears to be middle aged, head adorned with a golden laurel crown. She is laying on some sort of bed. The room she is in is overly bright which further accentuates the sterile white ceiling and walls. Yet she does not know who she is. The woman had called her ‘Falke’ but the name means nothing to her. That is the name of an animal. A bird of prey. And she is not an animal.

Then…what is she?

She accepts her name as Falke for she knows of no alternative. The woman does not share with her her own name at that moment, a fact Falke simply does not question as it is of little concern to her compared to everything else. Something feels off. Everything feels wrong. The dark haired woman looks small in a way she doesn't understand. Her body fills out the bed to an unusual degree, and the sensation of touch is distant.

The woman excuses herself with a promise to return later. Falke does not watch her leave but listens to her footsteps, long, confident strides, across the tile floor. She hears a mechanical door glide open then shut again, leaving her alone with whoever else she had heard speaking before.

“Okay, Falke,” the voice, male, her mind tells her, begins to speak, “I'm going to ask you to do a few simple things for me so we can make sure everything is in working order, sound good?”

Falke nods her head slowly and begins to follow along with the basic instructions being given to her. Follow this with your eyes, move your head, wiggle your fingers, good job, now lift your right arm, your left, can you sit up for me?

The instructions are easy to follow, but there is an undeniable disconnect between her mind and body. She feels as if she is controlling a puppet rather than her own physical form, yet she sees her arms move with her own two eyes. But they do not look correct. Falke does not know what her arms should look like, but the sleek black casing does not register as being her skin. As she stares at her hands, pressing her mechanically jointed thumb and forefinger together, she feels them touch with the faintest tap of plastic on plastic.

Falke wonders if this body is able to cry. The desire is overwhelming, but her expression never changes.

Führungskommando-Leiteinheit-Replika: FKLR. Affectionately referred to as simply Falke amongst the Gestalts who monitor her. It is not a title she understands, but she hopes one day it will become clearer.

Until that time comes, her days are filled with tests and experiments to assess her current functional capacity. She is finally used to walking after several days of stumbling around helplessly and falling into walls. She no longer feels nauseous looking down from her unimaginable height. Her body still feels too heavy, but the scientists tell her it is common with larger Replikas and she will gradually stop noticing it. She is even becoming used to her dull sense of touch as she learns how to properly gauge the information her body is giving her and what it means in context to the world around her. The scientists always tell her they are proud of her, and she finds she enjoys this a great deal.

Falke is not like the people around her. They are small and made of flesh and bone. One of the first things they made sure she knew was that she is capable of great destruction, but that she is a good girl who listens well, so she will be mindful not to harm those around her. She does not have a reason to disagree with this assessment of her. They have not lied to her yet. They are kind to her. They make sure all her needs are met.

Falke enjoys spending time in her room; the room she had been moved into once she was capable of maneuvering independently. It has the same sterile white walls as the rest of the facility she calls home, but it is adorned with Nation paraphernalia. The first time she had seen the room, decorated with flags and portraits of the Nation’s Leaders, she had felt uneasy and out of place, but now she finds great comfort in the iconography. It adds a sense of warmth to her world, she thinks, to know she is being watched over and cared for by the Leaders.

It is the Great Revolutionary that she met when she first woke up. She visits Falke as often as her schedule permits to check on her progress. Falke wishes she would stay longer to talk to her instead of her overseers, but she is a very busy woman, and so she understands the aversion to idle chatter.

She spends the majority of her free time reading the books they have provided for her, or watching the films left for her. She is moved by the stories of how the Nation's people have struggled under the unjust rule of the Empire, and she hopes one day she will be able to assist in some way. She is promised that this will be the case.

Falke wonders why she was made to look like the Great Revolutionary and her daughter. She takes the photos off of the wall to study them from time to time. Their gazes are stern and commanding, and she wishes her expression could match. She has seen her own face and she cannot stand to look at it. She does not recognize the woman who stares sadly back at her.

It is lonely, she finds, being an experimental Replika. The people around her have little interest in talking to her about anything besides her progress. She is making great strides in utilizing her bioresonant abilities, and the scientists always talk excitedly about each new milestone she reaches.

She is able to look into the minds of volunteers placed before her, and tell her overseers whatever information they ask her to retrieve. The Gestalts who volunteer always seem frightened of her, and she never sees the same one twice, but they reassure her it is just a test. If she encountered the same person again, she would not be facing a new, potentially more challenging mind.

Today, as she stands at the far end of a custom built firing range, hurling objects at targets with only her mind, she thinks to try talking to the scientist tasked with observing her. She, like all Gestalts who work in close proximity to Falke, was given a special implant to ensure Falke could not manipulate her outside the scope of any test.

“Does it hurt still, doctor?” She asks, not turning her attention away from her work.

The woman does not immediately answer, though she unconsciously raises her hand to the stitches on the side of her half shaved head.

“I hope you aren't mad at me over it.”

“Mad?” She repeats, and her voice startles Falke. Responses of any kind are rare if they fall outside of work related discussions.

“You were assigned to me, and because of that, precautions had to be taken. I…hope you do not blame me for this.”

She is quiet for a moment longer before she speaks again, voice unsure. “No, Falke, I don't blame…you. Now focus on your task.”

Falke smiles sadly to herself, lowering her head for a moment. She does not look up as she casts the final projectile, a metal ball, through the remaining wooden target, showering the firing range with splinters before the ball impacts with the floor. The sharp sound fills the largely empty room before fading away to silence once more. Falke stands and waits for further instructions as she watches the ball roll back and forth until finally ceasing all movement.

“It still hurts.”

“...Hm-?”

“My head. You asked me before if it still hurt.”

Falke turns slowly to look at her. She's learned by now sudden movements make her Gestalt overseers nervous, so she takes great care not to worry them.

The woman is not looking at her, though she does not appear to actually be writing anything in her notes, simply fidgeting about.

“I'm sorry to hear that. I wish there was something I could do.” Falke decides to sink down to her knees in hopes it will make her a little less intimidating. She doesn't want to scare off the closest thing she's ever made to a connection. She owes it to the scientist to be as accommodating as possible, given the state she was in because of Falke.

“What are you doing?”

“It's easier to talk if we're at the same level, doctor. I thought you might appreciate it.” She tries to smile but worries there's no point to the gesture. Falke notices the Gestalt glance back at her, and can only assume she sees.

“We aren't supposed to be talking at all,” she says, though she is making no attempts to stop the conversation.

Falke chuckles, nodding. “If I wasn't meant to talk to people, then why was I given the ability to speak? Surely, speech is unnecessary if I am able to influence those around me with only my mind.”

“That's an interesting point. One I don't have an answer for.” She looks up to see Falke still smiling, eyes brighter than normal. She thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath. “You're lonely,” she observes.

Falke nods. She is a sentient being with little in the way of interactions with others. It has started to gnaw at her more and more each day.

“I'll discuss this at my next meeting and see what can be done about that. You're dismissed.”

Administration-Datenverarbeitung-Logistik-Replika: ADLR. That is how they introduce her to the Replika they've brought in from another facility. They tell her it will be a good way to test their compatibility. He is not a new model like her, last generation, but there had always been speculation he could perform better with proper Replika guidance. No such person had existed…until now.

They tell her she will get along well with him. That, mentally, he should be easily influenced by her, and that if she wants someone to interact with, this will be how she gets it. She is told there are no other options because once she is Commander, she will not have time for friends and other such nonsense as that. Seeing him for the first time makes her regret ever bringing up the issue at all. There's no reason for it. He's a perfectly unremarkable Replika standing no taller than the average Gestalt and offering little else but his presence.

The way he looks at her makes her uncomfortable, but she can't put her finger on why that is. None of the Gestalts look at her with the same level of wonder. No, it's more than wonder, it is as if he is enamored with her. Love at first sight. The Gestalt scientists seem pleased by this development and decide this is a sufficient cure for Falke's loneliness, giving her no time to protest.

She no longer has any personal time to herself. Adler’s only purpose is to serve her, which means following her at all hours of the day. It also means sleeping in her room as there is no other space set aside for him. Falke tells herself she must adapt to this because, after all, isn't this what she asked for? Companionship in her off hours?

He does not understand personal space in a way she would prefer, but she finds it difficult to verbalize her wants. It is not a situation she has ever been in before, so more often than not, she is silent. She knows the scientists told her that Adler would be easy to manipulate with her abilities, but she is well trained, and only uses her powers when it is asked of her. It seems rude, she thinks, to exert her influence over someone for no good reason. She fears repercussions for misuse of her powers.

So instead, she pushes down her concerns and accepts this is her life now. She ignores the fact she knows he watches her sleep, and she ignores the thoughts she hears on accident. Sometimes it is difficult to not read people's minds now that the ability comes naturally to her. He thinks about her body a great deal, but since he has not done anything wrong, Falke does all she can to ignore it.

She feels nothing in return. She doesn't know what she is supposed to feel about him, but every conversation she forces her way through leaves her feeling empty. She tells herself she just isn't used to being around other Replikas yet, and in time, it will get easier like so many other things have for her. But she wishes it would happen faster.

He is sitting too close to her as usual, on her bed, and Falke is trying her hardest to simply ignore him. She misses her privacy so very, very much…

Adler says something to her, for which she only hums in response, hoping it will be enough to express her disinterest. It never is.

FKLR units will be judged on their actions, not by their words. These words echo in her mind as she stares vacantly forward. Her duty is to serve the Nation. Serving the Nation will require sacrifice. It will require moments of action that might seem overly cruel, but they are for the greater good. Her creator had made sure she understood this, that there would be times she would be asked to do things she might find questionable, but to trust she was doing the right thing. And nothing was off limits.

Training dummies do not bleed. They do not beg and apologize to an uncaring attacker. Falke has dismantled many in her brief time alive, and this feels no different. But she does not know why she does it; she cannot say what set her off. Was it a thought? A comment? A brief moment of unwanted contact? She does not feel any guilt as she looks at the thing laying crumpled on her floor. It is of no more interest to her than a discarded mannequin covered in red paint. Falke looks at her hand and realizes she is clutching soaked wires in her fist, though where she'd yanked them from she could not begin to guess.

She wipes her hands on her legs and crawls back into bed. For the first time since Adler had arrived, her room is quiet again, and she finally feels comfortable enough to sleep.

Falke is scolded for the mess and made to clean it up herself. She finds it surprising that she is not punished for what she did, simply for the aftermath of her actions. She helps the scientists who come to collect the body place it into a bodybag before it is removed. They ask no questions about the mangled figure and only leave cleaning supplies when they go.

She sets to work cleaning up the sticky, half dried puddle of coolant that leaked across the entire floor during the night. There is so much, spread across the tile and under her bed, that she feels like she is only able to smear it around with the rags she was provided with. Even so, she considers herself lucky that this is all that is expected of her.

As she scrubs diligently on her hands and knees, she notices unidentifiable flesh caught between the joints of her fingers. Falke knows it will be difficult to properly clean up, maybe even impossible without help from a technician. She tries to push the thought aside as she hears the door to her room open once more.

Someone steps inside, tracking footprints all over the half cleaned floor. Falke bites back the impulse to say anything, and she is glad for this when the person speaks.

“Falke,” the voice says, quick and sharp. It is her creator, the Great Revolutionary herself.

Falke flinches and keeps her head bowed low, suddenly ashamed of her behavior. “Good morning,” she manages, before adding, “ma'am.”

“I hear you broke your new toy.” She shifts her weight as she speaks. Falke suspects she's crossed her arms.

“It was…” calling it an accident might not be a complete lie, she hadn't meant to do it, after all, but it was far too brutal of a scene to suggest there was no intent whatsoever. “I'm sorry. I know everyone worked very hard to get a companion for –”

“Look at people when you're talking to them,” she barks, bringing her boot hard against Falke's shoulder and keeping it there.

Falke is considerably larger than her, but as she is now, groveling before her master, she is no more powerful than anyone else would be. She looks up at the woman for whom she shares a likeness, muttering an apology as she meets her eye.

“You made my shoes filthy with your little mess. Clean them,” she orders, twisting her foot back and forth before pulling back to let Falke sit up.

Falke carefully moves off of her knees and sits back, legs crossed. She is made painfully aware of her unusual stature once more, but instead of finding comfort in the protection it brings, she just feels awkward and out of place under the Great Revolutionary’s gaze.

The woman, without a word, places her boot on Falke's thigh and waits. Falke takes one of the few still clean rags and dunks it in her bucket of soapy water, ringing it out with one hand. She places her other hand against the woman's calf to steady her as she begins to spot clean as much of the sole as she can manage from their positions.

While she suspects the display is all for show, Falke sheepishly speaks up and says, “you might be more comfortable if you sat on my bed.”

She ponders the suggestion for only a moment, and, seeming pleased with Falke's desire to be obedient, moves to sit on the edge of the bed. She crosses one leg over the other, inviting Falke to continue with the faintest hint of a smirk on her face.

Falke doesn't think she's ever seen her creator smile before, especially not at her. The expression, however distant, spurs her on. She edges closer to the bed, taking her ankle once more before she continues to clean every tread free of dirt and blood. Her work is meticulous and loving as she thinks to herself no one has ever had the honor of tending to the Great Revolutionary like this before.

When she feels a hand on her head, she hesitates, glancing upwards. It is a nice feeling, one she's rarely experienced, but one she would like to earn again. She is not wearing gloves, as is often the case when other Gestalts touch her. It is simply wordless praise for her efforts.

But the moment cannot last long. Soon, her creator is rising to her feet and heading back out the door, leaving her with only one final order. “Hurry up and finish cleaning. We haven't got all day.”

“Hello, Ara. It's nice to meet you.” Falke smiles at the old Replika model. She tells herself she will do better this time around with her companions. She likes this one better than the last anyway, she thinks. Ara has an exceptionally quiet mind, and what thoughts Falke does pick up on are quite regular. She thinks of work and of her hobbies, quietly tending to plants in secluded areas of the facility. This particular unit has been working here for longer than Falke has been alive.

Like many others, she is, of course, impressed by Falke's stature. She is confused as to why she was relocated here at all, but ultimately she is relieved the person she was placed with seems to be nice enough. That thought Falke finds peculiar; that a Replika might be so concerned with how nice someone is.

“I'm sorry they didn't tell me what I was supposed to do with you. If… I had to guess, you're meant to replace my previous…” Falke hesitates on the last word, unsure what she should call the late Adler. Finally, she settles on, “assistant.”

Ara only nods, offering up a simple, “oh” in response. It is clear she has never been an assistant before, nor has she ever been separated from others like herself. Because of this, it becomes obvious she isn't interested in talking.

Falke finds it strange they'd be so quick to replace Adler after what she'd done to him, but she sees no point in questioning it. It has been a few days since the incident, and maybe they have decided it is worth giving her a second chance. She had proven herself with her creator immediately following the incident, so it makes a kind of sense.

“You have tools?” she asks, noticing the belt around her waist.

Ara nods.

“Do you know how to fix Replikas?”

She shrugs.

“Do you think you could help me clean the joints in my fingers? It's difficult to do it yourself. I'd ask the Gestalt technician but I'm afraid she'd be mad at me.”

Ara nods once more before Falke leads them off somewhere quiet where she may work undisturbed. It is a simple enough procedure, and her hands are larger than average, which she hopes will make them easier to work with.

Maintenance is an odd thing for Replikas. To be so vulnerable around another is a difficult task at the best of times. Any time she is operated on, it leaves her feeling strange afterwards. Lonely, almost. Empty. The technician usually just ignores her the entire time and is firm about not letting her linger afterwards. Ara, she thinks, isn't likely to do that.

Falke lays her hands on a table as she kneels on the floor, offering them up with no resistance. Ara says nothing as she begins to examine each joint to understand how she is put together. She will not need to remove any casing, figuring the wires inside will provide enough slack to clean between each segment without the need to disconnect any internals.

Ara does not comment on the gunk she scrapes out of her fingers, and Falke appreciates this small mercy. In fact, Ara doesn't even seem interested in its origin at all as she works. Falke can only watch her in a sort of awe as she expertly disassembles and reassembles each digit. Her expression does not change as she works, holding Falke's hand to better manipulate it as she sees fit.

Falke is almost disappointed when she finishes the procedure, but to her surprise, Ara does not move. Instead, she looks up at Falke, cocking her head to the side.

“Better?” She asks.

“Better," Falke replies, taking a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Ara remains seated as she lets Falke take her hand. She does not pull away, nor does she comment on the gesture.

Falke looks away, muttering an apology. She knows better than to behave this way. She has been chastised countless times before for trying to overstep boundaries like this. But Ara seems to think nothing of it.

“It's normal,” she says.

“It…is?”

“Yes.”

“No one’s ever told me that.”

“They never do.”

Falke furrows her brow, wondering why her Gestalt masters would neglect to explain a normal Replika reaction to her. She tries not to think about it as Ara gently squeezes her hand in return, all the while expression never changing.

She soon finds she much prefers the company of Ara to anyone else in her life. Unlike Adler, her thoughts are easier to handle. She is respectful of boundaries without needing to be told. And, above all else, she is knowledgeable about Replika life. Overtime, she grows comfortable enough to talk and length, and she tells Falke about different unit types she has met over the years that Falke has only read about in passing. Of EULR, and STCR, and STAR units. How, despite what they are told, some units are nicer than others. Some she could be friends with and others she tried to avoid.

She speaks of relationships and how Replikas form bonds with one another that fall outside of expected parameters. Sometimes they are ignored, other times punished. In rare cases, they are encouraged for enhanced unit performance. ARAR units are encouraged to befriend EULR units because EULR units can read their emotions better than anyone else. Falke jokes that she is also very good at that, thanks to her bioresonance.

Ara sleeps in her room the same as Adler before her, and follows her around during the day. She finds herself wishing that Ara would follow a little closer. That she wouldn't sleep so far away at night. When they watch movies, Ara always does so from the floor. She says she doesn't mind, and Falke knows she is telling the truth, but she wishes she was not.

The scientists do not like Ara. Or, perhaps more accurately, they do not like her relationship with their beloved FKLR unit. They see Ara as beneath her, and cannot understand why *this* one is who Falke has chosen to keep around. ARAR units are worthless to the Nation, holding no more value than materials used to build them. They are meant to do hard labor and to be disposed of when they break. Ara is able to ignore the constant remarks, but they begin to grate on Falke's nerves.

She cannot read their minds, but she does not need to when they speak their hatred so openly. She cannot exert her will over them, but she does not need to when she can exert her strength.

A comment is made, one day, as she and Ara are sitting by one of the rare windows in the facility, looking out at the dull landscape of rock and concrete, bathed in bright, artificial light.

“You were supposed to have killed this one by now.”

She knows the comment hurts Ara, who still manages to avoid a visible reaction. But Falke knows what she's thinking. How uncomfortable the idea is that she is a sacrifice given to their new pet as a plaything to break.

Falke can no longer stomach it. With a flick of her wrist she sends the Gestalt backwards through the air and into a nearby wall. She hears a bone snap on impact, an arm, she figures, by the way their thoughts shift to the pain they're trying to make sense of. She rises, placing her hand on Ara's back to guide her back to their room before she takes things further and does something truly regrettable. Falke keeps her close the entire time with no resistance.

“It's not fair,” she whispers, maybe more to herself than to Ara as they step back into their room together. “The way they treat you. The things they say. You don't deserve it…”

She moves to give Ara her space, but finds the shaken Replika stopping her from parting. And so Falke lingers. She pulls Ara to sit on her bed, and then to lay by her side.

“I'm sorry,” she says, pressing her head against the side of Ara's who is looking up at the ceiling. Her hair smells of machine oil even after all this time away from her old post. “I know I shouldn't have done that. But it's not fair.” She emphasizes the word as if it will better prove her point. Ara does not often think about what is fair and what is not, only focusing on the way things are in the moment.

“Thank you,” Ara says after a while. She turns to lean her head against Falke's.

Falke wants to say more but does not allow herself to speak. She wraps her arm around her companion's waist, closing her eyes. There is much she could still say. Promises she could make but never really keep. Plans they could make to do…what? There was nothing left but to pray for mercy and enjoy what peace still lingered between them.

“Falke, please don't make this any harder than it needs to be. I don't like this anymore than you do.” The large metal collar hangs over the scientist’s hands as she stares back at him in disbelief. There is no reason to obey in the moment, but she suspects a worse punishment awaits if she does not. Her gaze shifts from confusion to hatred as she willingly sinks to her knees, still a head taller than the man even like this, as she allows herself to be restrained.

He apologizes again, but Falke does not answer as a heavy chain is hooked to her collar with the other end fed through a small hole in the wall. She does not know where it leads, but soon, the chain catches and pulls through the wall with a slow mechanical grind muffled on the other side. She is unceremoniously yanked backwards until her back nearly touches the wall. She cannot stand nor can she fully sit, leaving her to fumble about trying to right her body with little success.

The man looks at her once more before turning away. She thinks his expression is that of pity, but it is too brief to be certain. He closes the door behind him, sealing her in darkness.

She does not know if this room was designed for her, or simply repurposed because of her. It is barely more than a closet, able to comfortably hold four normal sized Gestalts, she guesses. It is a pointless train of thought, but she has nothing to do but think.

Falke was not told how long she will be held here, but she suspects her punishment will last long enough to make her beg for freedom. She is meant to be prideful, but even she must have her limits. What better way to test them than this?

And so she sits and thinks. She thinks of her behavior leading up to this moment. She thinks of the betrayal she feels in being chained up like an animal. She thinks of her creator, and how she will feel seeing her like this. Falke is like family to her, is she not? They share a likeness, and for Gestalts, that is important. It means nothing between Replikas but she is no common Replika, and therefore it is something to hold on to.

She dreams of a life that is not her own. Of places she's never been and of languages she does not understand. She is a woman of great power but she has no reflection to speak of, and no name is ever uttered. People serve her, and she leads them with everything she has. But she is not Falke in those moments.

Sometimes she dreams of Ara, and every time she wakes wishing she hadn't. The loneliness she feels when she wakes up hurts more than the awkward angle she is forced into. In her dreams, they are happy. They are together. And they are safe. Falke wakes in her old bed with Ara at her side, and she enjoys the briefest moment of joy as she is convinced it is all a bad dream. They exchange words she will not allow herself to hear and then she opens her eyes to darkness. She does not know what happened to Ara and does not dwell on it, happier in her ignorance.

Days pass in her confinement, and it becomes difficult to tell if she is awake or asleep. She can no longer feel her legs, and she is certain the joints have locked up entirely. Sometimes she thinks she feels other people nearby, but even if she tries to speak to them, nothing ever comes of it. They are nothing but shadows lingering in front of her unfocused eyes.

Falke entertains the idea that she might die in this room. Punished for a crime she's all but forgotten, likely observed by some hidden camera as she rots away. Alone. She hopes the overseers are amused by what they see. Delighted to watch her sit and whither away as her body's systems desperately inform her something is wrong and she needs immediate care which is not coming.

A sudden electric shock rushes through her skull, jolting her head upright with a hoarse yelp. The pain forcibly reconnects her mind to her body as she becomes keenly aware of all her senses at once.

“Well, it seems that works after all.”

Her creator stands before her, holding a small black device in her hand. Falke reaches towards her with one feeble hand before she is hit with another painful jolt.

“You're an embarrassment. Look at you. You had so much promise and you were going to throw it all away. And for what?” She reaches out, grabbing Falke by the hair to yank her head upright.

It does not register as pain amongst everything else her body is experiencing. She blinks a few times as if it will help the ache in her head.

“You represent the Nation. You represent me. Do you know how bad you made me look? Hmmm?” She pulls Falke's hair again. “What kind of superweapon are you? You were really going to throw everything I've given you away for some…some worthless piece of machinery?”

Ara, she thinks as her chest tightens. She will not ask. She already knows.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, ma'am.” Falke forces the words out in hopes they will spare her from further misery.

“I should have you decommissioned. There's no reason not to. You're a failure. Just like all the others.”

“No, no I'm… I am not a failure. I won't let you down again. I promise.”

The Great Revolutionary thinks for a moment before she slips her arms around Falke's neck. The brief embrace is cut short as she unlocks Falke's collar only for her body to collapse under its own weight as days of strain catch up to her all at once.

“See to it that you don't.”

Falke finally understands what it means to be a Commander. The people she controls are tools to be exploited for the good of the Nation. If she will not be afforded special treatment, why should they? Compassion is weakness. It causes one to behave in unexpected and dangerous ways. Ruthlessness is rewarded. Violence. Cruelty. Her only purpose is to function as a weapon, and to see to it those below her do the same.

She is given a small troop of Replika soldiers to command, and she does so mercilessly. Though they are only meant to run drills, Falke punishes any failure as seriously as if it were the real thing. Her overseers are pleased by this development, and they tell her they have enough data to begin production on her line.

Atop her head, she is now adorned with the same laurel crown as her creator. A symbol of her status as leader. But it is nothing but a cruel facade. Made of metal and welded into her skull, it connects to a device now to be standard in all FKLR units. Each delicately carved golden petal helps to carry an electric current through her brain and down her spinal cord. A shock collar for minor infractions. A killswitch when they grew tired of her.

Ara is never mentioned around her again, and the only evidence she ever existed at all are Falke's fading memories of her. In the end, she was nothing but a sacrifice, killed by Falke’s impulsive, violent nature. Something she is rewarded for when it is properly directed. At her underlings. At her enemies. No, the Nation's enemies. She is just their means to an end.

There is no fanfare in it as all the pieces fall into place. This had always been the goal. The Replikas that serve her are terrified of what she is capable of and quickly fall in line. They look at her with fear and awe, and she looks back with disdain. Their deaths will mean nothing to her. And they will die. Pointless, violent deaths in a bid for control against the Empire, an already waning power. Few Replikas still serve the Empire, and those that do are first and second generation. Nothing more than worthless machinery. In many ways, weaker than the Gestalts they die for. She feels no pity for them when she is shown images from Vineta, a planet of great interest to both states. Their deaths are necessary. Her death will not be.

“You've come a long way, Falke.” The Great Revolutionary smiles up at Falke, but she does not return the expression.

Her gaze is stern now, all of the time. Every interaction she has with other people is not a syllable longer than it needs to be. She stands and waits for her to continue speaking or to finish the conversation, and this fact seems to please the Gestalt.

“I wanted to show you something now that you've officially been deemed a success.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow, but offers no further reaction.

Her creator chuckles, amused at how alike they've become in such a short span of time. That had always been the point. “Come,” she orders, leading Falke away.

She was born here. She ‘grew up’ here, but there are still many areas she has not seen. Most of the facility is a mystery to her, and one she no longer cares to understand. The things she is meant to know, she is told, all else is a waste of her time.

They walk in silence down several near identical gray hallways before descending down an elevator Falke barely fits in. She no longer makes comment on the fact the world is not meant for someone like her. She slouches over as always until they reach a sub basement. It is noticeably colder this far down, but neither comment on it as they approach an unassuming metal door.

Her creator swipes an identification card through a panel at the side of the door before opening it. Freezing cold air spills out into the empty hallway as the woman steps inside and flicks the light switch on. Falke waits until she is invited instead, ducking under the doorframe and pausing to observe her surroundings.

The walls are lined with several large machines, each with a small window at approximately eye level with Falke. They are humming in quiet unison with a purpose unknown to her. In a way, they resemble coffins the longer she looks, though she dare not approach one to see what lay inside.

“Your predecessors,” her creator says as she gestures towards the machines. Falke remains silent, so she continues. “Such is the case with all Replikas. Though, other Replikas aren't permitted access to information such as this. But you're different. You're special.”

“Are they dead?”

“Most of them,” she says, watching Falke cautiously approach the wall to peer inside at one of her failed siblings.

They all looked the same to her. Frowning, she asks, “why keep them?”

“For reference. We always hold on to our failures until we stop making them. After that, they are disposed of to make room for the next creation.”

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Because,” she clicks her tongue, “you are to know everything about those you command. Including all of the unsavory parts they don't know about. And what better way than this?”

Falke brushes her hand over a pane of glass to clear the fog from it to better stare at her sleeping reflection inside. “You said,” she pauses, “you said most…of them are dead. What about the others?”

That had been the right question to ask, it seems. The Gestalt nods. “How observant of you.”

Falke watches as she approaches a pod to input a code on a small keypad. She steps back as it hisses to life, followed by the distinct mechanical thunk of several mechanisms clicking into place before, finally, a door swings open.

The FKLR unit inside falls forward, trailed by dozens of wires connecting her to the device behind her. She is dazed, but gradually, she seems to be coming to her senses as she looks around the room. She sees Falke first, and makes a weak attempt at crawling towards her.

“Are you… are you here to help…me? They told me it would just be for…just a little bit. Can you hear me?” Her own voice says to her, trembling, pathetic. Her expression is almost childlike in its naive desperation as she looks up at an uncaring mirror.

“Pitiful thing, isn't it?” Their creator says, placing her boot on the FKLR unit’s back. “Take care of her.”

Falke frowns once more as she realizes she is being offered a firearm, one she does not take immediately.

“I know you've fired a gun before. Prove to me you can do this.”

She listens to herself whimpering on the floor, begging for a different outcome. The FKLR unit is promising to be a good girl this time. She will listen. She will work harder. She will do all of the things she should have done when she had the chance but failed to do. Her crying is cut short by a single gunshot.

Falke says nothing as she returns the gun.

“Well done. I'm proud of you, Commander Falke.”

#signalis #signalis falke #fklr #signalis fklr #i really hope i didn't mess up anything copying this over #i didn't realize there was s limit to how much text you can copy paste

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ryeun · 3 months ago

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Rereading is wonderful because why did I forget about this little detail. Apparently they have chewing gum in the TEK world! A quick google search tells me the first chewing gum was patented in the late 1860s, which is interesting. Since TEK takes place in a fictional world and not on Earth, it’s hard to compare technological advances and eras.

On the same note, the reason why I went back to the earlier chapters in the first place was because I remembered that Nagyunn bought a magazine of Najin:

Which is interesting because having Najin’s picture on the cover and such (as magazines are) implies the existence of technology able to capture a person’s likeness and print it out. Either that or it is hand drawn and then printed, which is viable (unlike the possibility of every copy being hand drawn, because that is simply not plausible and entirely impractical/not cost efficient).

The extent to which the technology in TEK has advanced is unclear; there are magical scrolls distributed among the knights that are used for communication, and they seem to work like a messaging app or social platform on a phone (not sure if they have other applications or uses because we’ve only seen knights scrolling through chat logs or receiving an announcement/message).

But the question is… how long have they been around? They clearly don’t have actual scientifically made cell phones, as is common in fantasy worlds with the existence of magic, but Wild Dog Fidorance seems inept at communicating through the scrolls (I don’t have the screenshot sorry) as if they’re something new. Of course, it might just be because they don’t seem to be in the use of the common people, which would mean that those who become knights would not be accustomed to them growing up, but… I don’t know. Sure, Qilin and other knights, as well as Nagyunn, get the hang of it quickly, but that doesn’t mean it’s been around for a long time. In Nagyunn’s case, he didn’t even know they existed until he met the magician.

So, we know there must be a device used for printing copies of something, there is a magical device that is used by knights to communicate, and that somehow magazines with pictures are printed in color. Is there some device, likely magical, used to take pictures? Is someone meeting with people like Najin and having them pose for hours to capture their likeness? Who knows.

If you were looking for a crazy theory with an answer, I sincerely apologize… but I only bring questions, not answers!! Maybe you can think about it and come up with something, with these details presented to you. (And if you do, please share!! I’d love to talk about the TEK world more! I’m slowly in the process of rereading TEK and taking note of details whenever I have time, which is not too often. Originally I started rereading from chapter 20 and onward—the latest chapter I was working on was 66—but I came back to the first chapters to refresher my knowledge.)

#the ember knight #ember knight #epic of gilgamesh #aeneulgeuni #nagyuun #najin #hwan daeng give me answers!!#worldbuilding

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citr0us · 5 months ago

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Law Of Assumption

I decided today to talk about the law of assumption and make a more detailed post about the subject, because I love this topic and am very interested in it. If you happen to have more things to add and more knowledge, I'm open to it.

I'm still learning about the subject, but make sure everything being posted has a source of research, readings, and videos that have been viewed

English is not my native language, so don't mind if there are any mistakes. In most sentences\paragraphs I used Google Translate to help me.

If you follow me and saw this post, I would ask you to like and repost it so that it reaches more people interested in the subject.

Law of Assumption.

Law of Assumption is a manifestation technique that you command because it is your reality. People keep making it something difficult and complicated when it's simply the power of your mind, because you are the creator of it. There are no limits to what we desire, as we are the operating power, so there is no Universe capable of controlling our reality or our manifestations. We have power over everything and manifestations originate solely from our assumptions.

The difference between Law of Assumption and Law of Attraction

Many people confuse them thinking they are the same thing but...

The Law of attraction is where we attract with our vibrations and emotions, when you emanate your vibration to the universe and you receive it. Ex: If your frequency is low, you will receive something low, negative things. If your frequency is high, you will attract positive things.

The Law of Assumption is when you are the creator of your reality, and it is when you program your subconscious. Ex: You already have that, and you have already achieved it, everything you manifested is already yours, already part of your reality (3D)

Techniques with the Law of Assumption

There are several types of techniques that help us and make it easier to express ourselves, even if in the Law of Assumption it is not necessary.

Affirmations: Every day affirm something positive and do it until it becomes something unconscious thinking or saying out loud. Affirm by saying that you have already achieved that thing, you already have it even though you don't see it yet in your 3D reality. It's already yours.

To help you, there are a lot of apps that notify you of positive affirmations to remind you throughout the day, I have them and I think they are very good.

Another form that I use a lot for affirmations is subliminals, which are positive affirmations with music playing. You can listen to subliminals anywhere, sleeping, doing homework, working, cleaning. You can find it on platforms like Tik Tok, Youtube and Spotify (I recommend getting recommendations from users, and researching whether people's audios are trustworthy)

Visualize\imagine: Another form of manifestation where you simply imagine what you desire already happening, doing this several times a day with the scene on loop really makes you experience your desire in 3D/physical reality.

3D and 4D

What are they:

3D: our external reality everything that is tangible, everything you are seeing with your eyes, where you are right now

4D: Your imagination, everything you create in your mind.

Stop paying attention to the 3D because it is just an illusion, it was created by your old thoughts, and if you are changing your mindset now the 3D will change too, it has no choice but to conform.

Where we live is in the 3D, physical plane, but where we really live is in the 4D. 3D is a reflection of 4D, everything you say in your mind, and everything you experience in your mind reflects in 3D, everything starts in our mind.

FOCUS ON 4D

This subject is much more extensive and in-depth than what I wrote here, if you are interested there are blogs, YouTube channels, books that talk about it, if you want I can make recommendations.

Thank you for reading and being interested in the subject.

XOXO 💋

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vigilskeep · 1 year ago

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i've been replaying origins and just had this question and was wondering if you had the answer (i know i could probably ask google but you seem v knowledgeable about the mage origin)

they mention that amell/surana's phylactery was sent to denerim, and i'm wondering if there is any text or dialogue in game that would explain why loghain didn't use that to hunt down a mage warden. (or maybe he did and i've just missed it over the years) is it just because really only templars know how to use a phylactery to track down mages? surely some of the templars in denerim would know how to and could be easily convinced to do so.

oh i hadnt thought abt this! i would say that the chantry is very proprietary over assets like that and not on suuuper good terms with loghain. i would also say that amell/surana’s phylactery was sent to denerim when they were harrowed, and considering the state of chaos ferelden immediately gets plunged into—for example that kinloch hold never hears back from the grand cleric on the right of annulment—i would not be surprised if the phylactery didn’t make it to denerim. which doesn’t necessarily mean it was destroyed or lost either, i could simply see it being holed up in some chantry for the duration of the blight

those would be my go-to explanations, i have no idea if canon considers it

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watsittoyah · 1 year ago

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Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, and adult content. Some mentions of multiple dimensions. Oral sex, rough sex, fang play, claws kink, size kink, breeding kink, some over stimulation, major begging (female) and web bondage (shibari?)

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate and spanishdict to help…)

Chapter 9- And the puzzles fall into place..

Miguel has been very tense lately, which was making you tense. You figured he was feeling tense due to the green goblin incident.

Your only clue was when you asked him about it, he had simply snapped his pen in half, causing ink to spill on his paperwork.

So you were planning a little day trip with Miguel to help him relax. It was set in motion for Saturday morning, but as of right now you were going to cook him a meal and help him unwind.

You were at his apartment door, with Tupperware of food. When he answered, he looked like he hadn’t slept. “Amor, what are you doing here?” He ushers you inside and you kiss him on his stubbled cheek.

“I am here to feed you. You’ve been coming in late and don’t think I don’t notice. I’ve been keeping tabs on Spider-Man. You had prevented a helicopter from crashing last night.”

At the mention of that he looked pissed. “Whoa, did I say something wrong?” He shakes his head as he takes the food from you and places it in his kitchen. “No, soy sólo…promise not to get upset?”

“All depends, Miguel. What am I not getting upset about?” He sighs and he rubs his eyes. “The Green Goblin showed up last night. They had baited me, which now thinking about it I should’ve known better. And I’m lucky no one got killed. Si hubiera sabido que era una trampa, no habría seguido a ese hijo de puta.”

“Miguel, baby. I know Spanish but please english.” You tell him as you see he is really riled up. He closes his eyes and nods. “Sorry, amor. So anyways the helicopter, it was holding someone important inside or so I thought. When I had finally stopped it from falling out of the sky, I had opened the doors expecting to see the person but no, it was a note and a fucking pumpkin. Esa maldita calabaza estúpida!”

He smacks the counter making you jump because with his claws he left huge scratch marks. “W…what was on the note?” You ask him. He gives a dark chuckle. “It said, next time I won’t leave just a trick. I’ll give you a treat. I had to grab the pumpkin and throw it into the Britannia river. It was only a bomb, no toxins this time but still. How could I be so stupid!”

You walk over to him and rub his back to soothe him. “You didn’t know, but you will for next time. Alright let’s talk, what do you know about this Green Goblin? Maybe talking about it will help you calm down some and we can bounce ideas off of each other.” He nods as he leans against his counter.

“So far, all I know is that this beast has a flare for blowing things up, and they are into Halloween a little too much for me.”

“Well in my perspective, I remember them gliding on something…they could be into tech? Maybe they have a large amount of money or stole the money. They have some knowledge in toxins. And they have a flare dramatics.”

“The thing that’s bothering me the most of about this green goblin is how do they know where to strike. They always seem to attack when I’m in the area.”

“Wouldn’t that be funny if you had a secret admirer?” You joke. Miguel doesn’t even crack a smile. “Yeesh touchy crowd. How about you make some notes on this big bad, and when you’re done let’s eat. I made curry chicken, with fluffy white rice and if you’re not full, I made some sweet potato pie.”

Miguel rubs his stomach. “I’ll make the notes later. Right now let’s eat I am starving.” You pat his stomach and smile. “Alright, now when you eat make sure you don’t pass out.”

After you two were done eating, you were enjoying each others company on the couch while watching a movie. “Baby?”

“Yes, princesa?” He look over at you and you sit up. “Can I steal a bit of your morning tomorrow?” You ask as you pull the blankets over the two of you. “Of course, pero porque mi amor?”

“Well, it’s more of a gift from me to you. I know your jobs both as a scientist and hero can be stressful, so I have a secret activity for us to do. It might not be fancy but it’s calming and you can let Spider-Man get a break. How does that sound?”

“Eso suena como el cielo.” Miguel says as he pulls you onto his lap.

You nuzzle up close to him and you give a nod. “Well you better be up and at it tomorrow morning. I want to get on the road with as little traffic as possible. Do you mind if I sleep here tonight? Erica and Denis are having a date night at the apartment.”

“No need to ask, you know I love it when you sleep over. How about we get to bed? I don’t know about you but I don’t want a crook in my neck.” As you two get ready for bed, you and Miguel were in the bathroom brushing your teeth while he was washing his face. You look over at Miguel’s bare torso and frown a little.

He has so many scars and bruises you can’t help but close the distance between you two and kiss the one on his shoulder. “Just a scratch, amor. I’ll heal.” He says with a sleepy grin. “That’s not the point, Miguel. All of these scars, no wonder you’re tired. You’re practically carrying Nueva York on your back.”

“I’d carry heaven and hell on my back if it meant to keep you safe, Tommie.” He places his hand on your cheek and he kisses your forehead. You sigh because you know once he gets this way there’s no talking him out of it. “Alright princesa, it is time for bed.” He scoops you up and leads you to the bedroom.

He places you in bed and you turn off his lamp on his nightstand. Soon after he crawls into bed next to you and pulls you in close. “Have I told you how much I am in love with you, Tommie Valentine?”

“Oh this must be serious, you’re using my first and last name.” You tease as you rub your hand against another one of his bruises. “I am serious, amor. You know sometimes I think about the future. I think about us married and happy. And sometimes…I think about not being Spider-Man.”

You look at his pretty hazel eyes in the dim moonlight and rub your thumbs against his cheeks. “Whether you’re Spider-Man or just Miguel O’Hara the scientist, I would still be proud and love you…and I’d marry you.”

A huge grin breaks out across Miguel’s face. “You’d marry me?” You nod thinking why would that even be a question? “Of course, you know sometimes if I’m just sitting there, I can picture this pretty red diamond wedding ring on my finger.” Miguel was quiet for a while and you notice he was just staring at your hand.

“Mi corazón en forma humana.” He whispers. “What does that mean again?” You ask him. “I’ll tell you some other time. Now let’s get to sleep, Spider-Man is getting a day off tomorrow.” You don’t argue. Instead you lay down and close your eyes, dreaming about a wedding that you swear you’ve seen before.

•••

“Amor, where are we-watch out for that ardilla!” You swerve avoiding the squirrel and you roll your eyes. “Miguel, you act as if I can’t drive. I am an excellent driver.”

“Dile eso a los animales.” He mutters. “Hey! I heard that!” You make a turn and Miguel does a praying motion with his hands. “Where are we going? I’m asking for the sake of the animals.” Miguel asks as you drive up to an empty parking lot.

“The animals will be fine, and we are here. Come on, help me get the cooler and the poles please.” You get out of the car and Miguel grabs the cooler while you make sure the fishing poles are secured.

“I didn’t take you as the fishing type, amor.” You shrug. “I fished a lot with my mom. She said she would get her best ideas out on the water. Now the spot she’d take me is in CT, and since we aren’t there, I figured this spot would be second best.”

You walk down to the water and place the fishing poles down. “I’ll go grab the chairs.” You offer. “No need, I’ll grab them.” Miguel webs his way back to the car and when he gets back you had your hands on your hips. “Què?” He asks as he lands. “It’s Spider-Man’s day off remember? So that means no web slinging.”

Miguel looks at you and shrugs. “Forgive me, I will behave.” He sets the chairs up for you and you straighten out your jeans as you place the bait on the hooks. You hand Miguel a pole as you get yours and you cast out your line.

When you sit down you inhale the cool air and sigh. “When I was…six. I had went on this fishing trip with my parents. I was scared because my mom said when she was little she would catch fish as big as a dog. For some reason in my head I thought those fish were going to eat me. Funny I know. But I had the best time. I even caught three fish that day.” You say looking over at Miguel.

He looked like he was thinking. “The one time I went fishing it was with my sperm-father, and my little brother. That was the only day I can say I had fun with my father. We had caught this trout that was twice the size as me and Gabriel. My father had told me that if there is one thing an O’Hara can do, it’s provide for their family. Funny how he taught us that and he was still un pedazo de mierda.”

“Alright let’s not think about the past, let’s focus on catching some fi-” Miguel’s line flicks and he reels in whatever he just caught. “Alright!” He cheers as he feels in a bass. “That’s good baby, you caught something great.” You say feeling a bit jealous, because you wanted to catch something.

“I’m going to let it go. It’s a mother, I can tell from the egg sack.” Miguel gently takes the fish off of the hook and puts it back in the water.

“I can’t wait to see what you catch, amor. I bet it’ll be huge.” Miguel says with encouragement. “Yeah, huge.” You reply as you sit forward hoping for a bite. Miguel flicks out his line again and several minutes later he gets another bite.

You side eye him as he gets excited. “Come on fishes, what’s a girl to do to get a bite? At least a little nibble?” You mutter to yourself. “Amor do you need any help?”

“No, I got it. I got this. It’s just fish, fish that I haven’t caught yet.” You mutter as you wait for a bite. “I can help you, you know.” You cut your eyes at him and he looks away. “O tal vez no.”

You get a tug on your line and you reel it in. “Come to mama. Come on baby, come on.” You get the fish out of the water and your smile immediately vanishes. On your hook was the smallest fish you ever did see. “Miguel O’Hara if you laugh don’t expect me to come over your place for a week.” You say taking the tiny fish off of your hook and tossing them back. “I wasn’t going to say anything, amor.”

“But? I know you want to say but.” You ask as you get cast your line out. “But maybe I can help you out? I don’t want you to be angry. This is suppose to be relaxing.”

“I got it, just let me get a hang of this…anyways speaking of things I can’t stand, remember when I went to Trenton with Mr Stark? Well we had made a stop for his meeting with Mr D’Angelo and tell me why Dana pops up there? I don’t know about you but the girl seems obsessed.” You look over at Miguel and his jaw was clenched. “What did she say to you?”

“She was being fake, talking about how she had too many drinks, so that’s why she acted the way she did. She even apologized but I’m still calling that bullshit. Oh! She had the nerve to invite us to some event dinner for next month. But I told her that we would be unavailable.”

“You know she’s going to do everything in her power to make sure we attend, right?” You shrug. “Baby, the ancestors could say accept the invitation, we are not going.”

“Be on the look out, Dana will use her resources to make it impossible to miss this event. I wonder why she wants us there.”

“I don’t know, but the thought of her being in the same room as you makes me want to vomit. Still can’t believe you dated that snake even if it was one date.”

“Amor, please don’t remind me.” Miguel groans as you feel a large tug. “Whoa! This is a big one I can feel it.” You try to reel in the fish, but it feels like it’s going to snap the pole.

“Oh no, come on…please don’t b-” And just like that your pole snaps. You just stare in silence and when Miguel makes an attempt to speak you raise a hand. “Don’t…just please don’t.” You take the last piece of your pole and just sit in your chair.

“Am-” You raise a hand to tell him not to speak and you just dig into the cooler and grab out a peanut butter sandwich.

Miguel stabs his pole into the dirt and he stands up. He crouches down behind you and lets his chin rest on your shoulder. “Miss Valentine, are you upset?” You take a hard bite out of your sandwich. “Nope, I’m relaxing.”

“Doesn’t look that way.” You huff, eating your sandwich and he stands up and he walks so he’s standing in front of you. “Ven a sentarte conmigo.” He says as he gently pulls you up. You pout but you follow him back to his chair.

“Miguel this chair has a weight limit. It won’t hold the both of us.” You point out as he pulls you onto his lap. “Nonsense, mi amor. We will be fine. Now look out onto the calm waters and tell me what you see.”

“Water, more water and that punk ass fish that broke my fishing pole.” You tell him. He laughs at your answer and wraps his arms around you. “Well I see, calm waters. A beautiful sky, and an amazing woman with a pout on her face.”

“But the fish broke my pole.” You whine to him. “I know baby girl. And I’ll buy you another one. But for now, let’s just enjoy this moment alone. We have no interruptions, no bosses calling, it’s just you…and me.” Miguel says as he places his hands on your thighs.

“Miguel, I know I didn’t pack three poles, so what is that?” You say as you feel his dick press against your ass. “Oh I think you know what that is. And if it was a pole, then I just got a lucky catch.” He says as he kisses the side of your neck.

You position yourself on his lap so that you can feel his reaction through your jeans and you slowly start to hump him. “Niña traviesa, you just don’t care if someone catches us like this do you?” He reaches under your shirt and he pinches your nipples.

“T…then I’ll be careful.” You moan out. Miguel chuckles against your neck and he coos you as you moan a bit louder. “That’s it, make yourself feel good. Show me how you want to come.” You stop for a second and you undo your pants.

“What are you doing, amor?” He asks as you turn and pull his pants down a bit to release his hardening dick. “I’m showing you how I want to come.” You face the water as you position yourself above him and he gets a hold of your hips. “Guide it in, mi corazón.” Miguel says as you rub your clit against the head of his dick.

You ease down and once he’s inside you still. “This is good, Tommie. If…if someone comes up, it’ll look like we’re just looking at the water, instead of just fucking each other in this chair.” Miguel starts moving his hips up and you lean forward getting balance on his knees.

You really start to get into it but you two hear a car in the distance. Miguel grabs you up and he webs the two of you into a tree top. He balances you against him and a tree.

“Seems like we’re going to have some company soon. But that shouldn’t stop us from having fun, cierto mi amor?” Miguel has you balanced on a thick tree branch and you feel him grind inside of you. “M…Miguel, I s…said no Spider-man powers.” You moan out as you feel the excitement of someone possibly catching you two up in the trees.

“Oh, chingados…mi amor. Why did you clench like that? Don’t tell me you’re turned on at the thought of someone catching us? Mmm, I bet you’re imagining it now. Someone just happening to look up and see your guts being rearranged.” Miguel grips your ass as he thrusts in slow and deep, causing you to grip the tree.

“Please don’t stop. Please keep going.” Miguel slaps your ass and leans in so he’s deeper. “Say it in Spanish, mami.” Miguel says as he grips the back of your shirt. “Por favor no te detengas, Miguel.” You moan out as you look back at him.

He grabs a hold of your chin and he kisses you deeply. “La buena niña, now throw it back for daddy. Show me that you know how to fuck me back.”

You grip the tree trunk and just as he asks you throw it back on him, causing him to bite his shirt and slap your ass. He grunts and you look forward seeing two men setting up their stuff on the other side of the lake.

Miguel yanks your hair back causing a yelping moan. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not sharing, and they can’t fucking watch. You’re all mine, Tommie. All fucking mine.” He starts pounding into you quickly and you moan out that you don’t know what he’s talking about with a smirk on your face.

“Parezco estúpida? I bet you’d love for them look up right now and watch you getting fucked. They’d probably want to join but that will never happen, do you hear me?” Miguel slides out of you and he turns you around so you’re looking at him only.

He grips your throat and you feel his claws slightly dig in. You smile at him and that makes his roughly slide into you. “You love smiling? You just love fucking smiling. Te daré algo por lo que sonreír.” He lets your throat go and he takes your wrists and pins them above your head.

With his webbing he makes your wrists stay in place and he pins your legs apart, also webbing them in place. Miguel pounds deeply into you and you let out loud groan but he places a hand over your mouth. “Not fucking smiling now, are we, amor? Fuck your little cunt feels so good and tight. I might have to just breed you while we’re up here. Is that what you want, princesa? Do you want to have my babies?” He moves his hand from your mouth so you can answer him.

“Yes baby, I d…do. I want your babies, I want to have your babies.” He covers your mouth again and he pounds into you, making you feel sex drunk. “That’s too bad, when you’re my good girl, I’ll give you my babies. But for now you only get this dick deep in this little pussy. I bet it tastes good, don’t you want a taste?” You nod as your eyes roll back.

Miguel slides out of you and he balances so he’s on his knees. He spreads your pussy lips wide and he flicks his tongue fast against your clit. You jerk from his movement and you want to fuck his face, but he has you webbed down to the tree.

He shakes his head fast as he slides two fingers inside of you and you start seeing stars as you squirt. He sucks your lips and clit all together causing you to squirm and jerk. “Baby, baby…” You beg as you pull at the webbing.

He looks up at you and his ruby red eyes seem glisten with happiness. “What’s the matter, Tommie? Is this too much for you? I thought you wanted a taste?” Miguel stands up towering over you and he brings his slick wet fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and suck his fingers, moaning.

“Look at that, such an obedient lover you are. Sucking daddy’s fingers dry. But don’t worry, I’ll get something else soaked.” Before you could think, Miguel was back inside of you pounding without mercy. Your head lolls back against the tree and you feel yourself about to come again.

“No te rindas ahora, princesa. I know you can take this dick, just like those other times.” He grips the tree getting deep as he thrusts. He puts his thumb against your swollen clit and you shake as you come once more.

Miguel growls as he come deep inside of you. He kisses you on your lips and where his claws had gripped. “I’m sorry, amor. You just know how to bring the beast out of me.” Miguel uses his claws to cut you out of the webbing and you manage to pull your pants back up as you sag against him.

“I got you, Tommie.” He says as he holds you up. You both see the two men starting to pack up and leave, which was a good thing because Miguel lands with you in his arms and he sets you down.

You sit down in your chair as you catch your breathe and Miguel takes his line out of the water. “I don’t know about you but, that helped me relax.” Miguel comments. You look at him and shake your head chuckling. “You are a mess.”

“No amor, I made the mess inside of you.” That comment caused the both of you to burst out laughing. “Alright, well now that we made a mess, let’s get back to these fish. I’m going to get a big one. Just watch.” You tell Miguel as you get his pole. He simply walks over and he help you out. “How about we catch some together?” You nod at that and for the rest of the morning you and Miguel relaxed as the fish kept biting on the hook.

••••

If there was one thing you knew about your work life, you knew that Mr Stark loved to make a good impression.

When he peeked into your office, you were reading over some emails and making sure Mr Stark wasn’t double booked. “Miss Valentine?” He asks as he knocks on your door frame.

“Yes Mr Stark sir?” You look away from the computer screen for a moment. “It has come to my attention that the D’Angelo family will be hosting a dinner at Le Rose next month.”

“Yes, I heard about that. I hope you and Mrs Stark have a great time there.” You say as you type a few words down. “We will and I have been told that Mr D’Angelo’s daughter had invited you as well.” Your fingers freeze over the keys. “Yes but I won’t be able to attend. I’m sure with the paper work and it’s getting close to being our busiest part of the season.”

“Nonsense, I’m sure you can come to the dinner. This is a perfect opportunity to show the other guests that this company has what it takes for social events. I will see you there.” He says smiling as he leaves your office.

You grind your teeth so hard it’s a shock they didn’t turn into dust. You dial Miguel immediately and he answers on the third ring. “Hola amor, give me a second I’m just checking on these incubated eggs.” He puts you on hold for a second and when he gets back on the phone you let him know what’s wrong.

“So Mr Stark basically is saying I have to go to that dinner next month all because he wants to look good in front of people. Well he is going to be disappointed when I round house that girl across her head.”

“Amor, amor. Cálmate.” You look at your phone. “I am calm, Miguel, I am just venting.” You tell him as you take out some fruit snacks from your desk. “I know. I just don’t want you to burst out of your office and curse your boss out. Eso no seria buena.”

“No it’s not. I…I really don’t want to go. I feel like she’s going to make me look bad in front of you, or try to flirt with you.” You open the fruit snacks and chew on a few. “That won’t happen. If anything I’ll just put her in her place. Simple como eso, amor.”

You tsk and shake your head. “I would say that’s a good idea, but I feel like she would somehow make things worse.” You hear Miguel talking to someone in the background so you wait for him to answer. “…Well, if we’re going then, we are going to make it a night to remember.” You felt happy with his comment. “Miguel, I honestly don’t deserve you. If you were here I’d give you the biggest kiss.”

“Amor, don’t tell me that. I get to go on my lunch break in five minutes and I will web sling all the way to you just to get a kiss.” You look at watch and smirk. “Well I just so happen to be going on my break in a few, so if you’re planning on dropping by, then I wouldn’t be oppose to you web slinging by and taking me away for lunch. Maybe you’d get more than a kiss.”

“Qué obtendría?” He asks. “Oh I can’t let my secret out of the bag just yet, but just know that it’ll be worth your time, and I’d be thrilled to my knees to see you.” You tell him in a seductive tone. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hangs up and you laugh at his abruptness.

You get your things in order and you decide to time him on if he really will be web slinging to you in ten minutes.

Then again, you wanted lunch with Miguel, not Spider-man today. Plus, the office was getting more and more people stopping by these days. You call Miguel but his phone goes to voicemail. “Baby, I know you’re probably almost here, but just come up to my office as Miguel. There’s a lot of clients coming in the office today and I don’t think I want any of them witnessing Spider-man crawling through my window at high noon.” You end the voicemail and check the times. He had six more minutes, which means you can go to the vending machine and grab something to drink.

As you leave your office you walk past Bruce and he stops you. “Oh Miss Valentine, remember how I told you about my wife? And the baby?”

“Yes, I remember. Is everything okay?” You ask with concern. “Oh everything is fine. But I wanted to invite you and your husband to the baby shower. It’s being held in two weeks. My wife she’s hopeful for a boy and if it makes my wife happy then who am I to argue.”

You notice that Bruce called Miguel your husband and you don’t correct him this time. “I’m sure he would love to come with me. Is there anything you need? Diapers? Bottles? Toiletries for your wife?”

“I’ll ask her and just get to you on it. I still can’t believe I’m going to be a father.” He smiles wide and you feel happy for him. “I know you don’t want to know the gender but what do you hope she has?” You ask as you put your money into the vending machine and press L7.

“Truthfully, I want a girl. I grew up with all boys and I think a girl would be nice in the family. When are you and your husband going to have kids?” You shrug. “I’m not sure, I want to talk to him about it one day though.”

“Talk to me about what, amor?” You look down the hall and you see your pretty hazel eyed beauty walking towards you. “Bruce and his wife are expecting. So they invited us to their baby shower.” You say grabbing your snack from the vending machine.

Miguel’s eyes light up. “Congratulations Bruce, I am happy for you. Please send us the details and we will be there. Amor? I brought you something but I need to show you in your office.” Miguel says as his eyes roam your body.

“Bruce I’m on lunch so if you can, make sure no one disturbs me.” He winks at you and you lead Miguel back to your office.

Once the door is closed and locked, you pull Miguel down and kiss him. You back step until your butt bumps against your desk, and Miguel lifts you up and places you on your desk as he moves in close between your legs. “Mmm, maybe I should, web sling here more often.” Miguel says as he slides your skirt up your thighs. “I’m glad you got my message. But you should web sling to me more ofte-get these pants off, baby.” Miguel manages to get his pants down and you shimmmy out of your panties. He gives you a couple of pecks on your neck and he stops, inhaling your scent.

“Hueles tan bien, amor. Now tell me about your day, I want to hear that pretty voice.” Miguel in one swift move picks you up and he flips you onto your stomach on your desk.

He palms your ass and you bite your lips into a smile as you feel his thick dick spread your cunt open. You palm your desk and feel him pounding into you quickly. “M…m…my day, baby slow down. My day was good, until…that news…I….I told you a-Miguel, baby jus…just like that.” You moan out trying to be a bit quiet.

Miguel leans down against you and he bites at your ear. “Mmmm, I thought you liked when I fucked you fast, amor. I thought you liked when I pounded this little..greedy…pussy. Fuck, squeeze me just like that. Wh…what else happened?”

He grabs your wrists behind your back and arches in a way that hits your g spot. You almost squirt from this move but you remain focused…or try.

“I…I’m still mad about the invitation. I…don’t want to talk about D..d…d…Dana but I hate her.” Miguel lets out a moan and kisses your shoulder. “Well that’s why I’m here, amor. To help you forget about her. Maybe I can fuck the memory of her out of you.” He arches your back and you let out a moaning gasp. “Esto está ayudando, mi amor?” You nod, not being able to answer.

“Bien, now let me…tell you about my day. We…amor if you get loud you won’t hear…about my day.” You bite down on your lip as he pounds harder inside of you. You were about to see stars if he kept this up.

“…we have a development…amor, I can’t focus when your grip around me like that. Ay dios mío fuck it.” He grips your desk now and he pounds into you, not caring if you make a noise. Your desk was shaking as you feel yourself trying to stay with your feet on your tippy toes.

“Let go for me amor. I want you to make a mess on this dick. Haz un gran desastre princesa.” You hear a knock at your door but you don’t care. “Coming…” You moan out as Miguel thrusts his come inside of you. He lays on you for a moment and you turn your head slightly and kiss him.

The knocking comes to the door once more and Miguel slides out of you as you fix your clothes. Miguel webs to the ceiling and you clear your throat before opening the door.

Behind the door you see Mr Stark. “Yes sir?” You ask with a fake smile. “I know you’re on your lunch, but I heard noises coming from your office. Is everything alright?” Mr Stark asks as he peeks behind you.

“It is but I seem to be suffering with some cramps.” You hold your stomach and Mr Stark makes a face and backs away. “Oh, well make sure you take care of that. I’ll be going now.” You shut the door and lock it back.

Miguel lands in front of you and when he goes to speak, you press your finger to his lips to stop him.

“My lunch break is for another forty minutes, and you said you would fuck the memories of that woman out of me. So don’t waste your time speaking…just fuck me…”

Previously, Next

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