#if I'd known three years ago i was agreeing with
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
scleroticstatue · 1 year ago
Text
Okay, I'm just going to say it. We need to be honest with kids and young adults in high school and college who have ideas for what they want to do with their lives. We need to have school counselors that tell students they won't do well in college, we need to have parents that tell their kids that they actually can't do what they want, we need academic advisors that tell college students they're being stupid about their future. I don't even mean stuff like "they're just not as big a market for gender studies grads as you're hoping," I mean stuff like "hey, you have zero regard for authority, going into a field that requires you to build a relationship of respect and mentorship with a college professor in order to get a PhD is a dumb thing for you to try and attempt. You will spend the whole time making enemies and then getting failed for personal reasons" and "yeah, I know "reasonable accomodation" is a thing, but you are in a wheelchair and being a field underwater achaeologist just isn't going to be a viable career," and "you almost failed algebra three different times, you cannot be a math major." I know it's mean, telling someone now that it's a waste of time for them to do whatever they've got their heart set on, but it's kinder to let people know now that their life path is going to lead them to disappointment and they need to reassess where they're at. The 16-25 age group are idealists and think they can change the world, but they might need to change the world just to be accepted into a field and most kids aren't ready or devoted enough to any particular discipline to do that, and adult guides in the young adult's life should be there to bring them back to reality.
10 notes · View notes
a-dauntless-daffodil · 8 months ago
Text
love that Vaggie had ZERO fucking idea how much of Adam and Lute's brain space she was apparently taking up
legit she has NO thought of herself being important enough for them to have noticed. meanwhile, Adam, Lute, and the other Exorcists were just like
Vaggie: "Yeah, I'm pretty sure my old coworkers won't recognize me."
Adam: (instantly recognizing her) "ITS ON SIGHT BITCH ITS ON SIGHT!!!"
Lute: "SIR I AGREE BUT THERE ARE WITNESSES!!!!!!!"
-
Vaggie: (answers door and comes face-to-face with them) "Charlie's not here. Leave a message after I slam the door on you."
Adam: "???? I'm here to see you???"
Vaggie: "Why."
Adam: "Why? WHY? YOU LEFT THE BAND! YOU WENT YOUR OWN WAY! YOU FUCKED OFF TO GO BE SEXY WITH MY EX'S HOT DAUGHTER!"
Vaggie: "And?"
Adam: "? AND YOU WERE ONE OF MY BEST MURDERERS?????"
Vaggie: "So?"
Adam: "?!?!!??!?!?!?!??!!?!???????!?!?!"
Lute: "You're gross and we hate you."
Vaggie: "Is there a point to this."
Adam: "Sure there is! Betray the woman you love or else."
Vaggie: "Nah."
Adam: "IM SUING"
-
Adam: "Okay Exorcists! Who here remembers Vaggie!"
ALL the Exorcists: "BOO!!! HATE HER!"
Lute: "GOOD THEN GO RIP HER A NEW ONE AND SHOVE IT DOWN HER THROAT!!!"
Adam: "???? just cut off her head?? can we just cut off her head like normal people with a normal weird obsession over someone???
-
Lute: "I hate you so much I'm gonna rip my own arm off and throw myself at you!"
Vaggie: "Oh for fuck's sake- I wouldn't have spared your stupid life if I'd known you didn't even have one!"
Lute: "IM GONNA TAKE YOURS"
Vaggie: "YOU fired ME like three years ago! Where the hell is this even coming from???"
Lute: (ineffectively throttling vaggie with her remaining hand) "YOU SHOULD'VE KILLED ME WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!"
Vaggie: (wheezing) "WHY THE FUCK AREN'T YOU IN THERAPY???"
1K notes · View notes
andromeda-nova-writing · 6 months ago
Text
Hate at first sight - Alhaitham Requested by @isekyaaa
Contains suggestive lines for the sake of a joke
“Tighnari, You know anyone who could translate this?” She brought over the book to him. It was an old book she found while cleaning up her grandpa’s house. A book in a foreign language that her grandpa had forgotten over the years leaving its contents unknown to his family. “It’s supposed to be an heirloom.”
Tighnari looked over the book she had handed to him. A language that was unrecognizable to him but recognizable in that he had seen one of his friends reading a book in what looked to be a similar language. “I know a guy. If you're free tonight you might have a chance to get it translated or at least be pointed in the right direction.”
“Why tonight?"
“Cyno made a new deck again. Your translator should be there.”
“I forgot you have game nights with the General Mahamatra. I shouldn't take up too much of your time. Well as long as this translater of yours is good at their job.”
“He is. Just know he can be a little blunt. Though little may be an understatement. And with Kaveh there, don't be surprised if you see some sort of argument.”
“You're friends must be a lively bunch. Wait Kaveh is the one with blonde hair right? He was the one who was here two weeks ago?” She asked making sure her memory was correct.
“He was. Why?”
“He gave me advice on what rug I should pick. He didn't even see where it would go and gave me perfect advice. I really would like to thank him. My living room actually feels like a separate room even though it's an open floor plan.”
“I'm sure he'll appreciate it.”
-
It was nice to say hello to Cyno even though she didn’t know that super well. Most of her knowledge came from Tighnari mentioning him. But that and the fact she didn’t talk to him much meant that she really didn’t know him. It was entertaining to hear a few of his jokes though. The juxtaposition of the wordplay with how stoic his delivery was may have been the only reason she enjoyed them though.
While Kaveh acted as if he had known her for their entire lives. He was warm and welcoming. But also the moment she thanked him it was like he became a second sun in the room. He was extremely giving, offering to give her home interior design advice any time. It was evident in his face and how he spoke how much he appreciated the thanks even if it was just over what shape of rug to get.
It was enjoyable to be around all three of them. Though as nice as their company was it wasn't the reason she Had followed Tighnari along to his game night With his friends at the tavern. She still had a book in her bag that needed to be translated and there was no translator in sight.
“Tighinari, are you sure your translator is supposed to be here?”
“I’m sure he’ll show.”
“Translator?” Kaveh asked before his smile evaporated away. “You’re here for Al Haitham?”
“That’s a first,” Cyno commented.
“Well, now my translator has a name. But yes.” She pulled the book out of her bag. “My grandpa said it’s a family heirloom but no one in my family can even read it. Tighnari said that he’d be able to translate it for me.”
“At a horrible cost though. You couldn't have just sent her in the direction of the Akademiya?” Kaveh asked, being quite dramatic about the situation.
“I'd rather have someone that Tighnari trusts than some I don't know who. The book is an heirloom after all.”
“It will be fine,” Tighnari reassured, he pointed at the door. “Even then, he’s here.”
Al Haitham made his way over to their table. He sat down at the table already looking annoyed at who knows what.
Tighnari was kinda enough to briefly explain the situation to him along with a basic introduction. Even though Al Haitham had agreed to translate he looked as if Y/N's simple request was asking too much. Maybe a frown was just permanently etched into his face.
Al Haitham held the book looking over the cover. “To count the ways.” He translated the cover before flipping through the pages. His eyes widen skimming through the contents. He looked over at Y/N who looked brimming with excitement to learn what was in the book. “This is just erotica.”
Cyno slowly placed the cards in his hands on the table now fully paying attention to what was unfolding in front of him. Kaveh choked on his wine only for Tighnari to pat his back as he coughed. 
Y/N’s face dropped. “It's a heirloom. It’s been in my family longer than my grandpa has been alive. It can’t be. You must be mistranslating it.” She reasoned.
“Your heirloom is in an old form of a Fontaine language. A language I’ve been reading since I was 17. Do you want me to translate it aloud for you?” His words were an insult and a challenge to her.
“If you know it so well then could you give me a real translation.”
Al Haitham rolled his eyes opening the book back up. “Her eyes widen at the sight of his toned chest. In a frantic haze of want she quickly moved to help remove his belt excited to see the sight of his-”
Y/N snatched the book from his hands. Her face was warm with embarrassment. “It was nice talking with you three but I have to go.” She politely excused herself from others before turning to face Al Haitham. “You could drown in a ditch for all I care.”
157 notes · View notes
abbysimsfun · 2 months ago
Text
Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 60 (Malcolm Landgraab IS MARRIED!)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
After a great weekend in the city with her family, Heather and Conrad crossed the San Myshuno Bridge to pick up Ash from the Landgraabs' penthouse Uptown.
Toddler Ash rushed to greet his mother when she walked through the door. "Mommy, mommy, come meet Mumma Miko!"
Tumblr media
Heather did a double take, but it wasn't just her son's pronouncement that caught her off guard. The Nancy Landgraab stood before her in cottagecore, looking like someone trying to fit into Henford-on-Bagley despite her well-advertised dislike of small towns. "Nancy, is that...a nose ring?"
"It's just a magnet, but apparently this is the style these days. Malcolm's new wife had me try it out, but I think I look ridiculous."
This might've been the first thing she and Heather had ever agreed on. But Heather kept her mouth shut as Malcolm charged up the stairs from the pool deck below, finally catching up with his son.
Tumblr media
Heather stared at him, and he looked sheepishly toward the second floor. "I got married... Three days ago."
Her jaw dropped. "I dropped off Ash two days ago. You didn't think I should know then my son has a new stepmom?"
"You know now, Heather. I just told you our son has a stepmom! It took you months to tell me about Conrad!"
She rolled her eyes, trying not to let her frustration show in front of Ash, but they were interrupted when Malcolm's new wife walked down the stairs.
Tumblr media
She was thin, beautiful, and her edgy purple hair framed her face perfectly. She offered an earnest smile. "Hi, I'm Miko," she said. "I know I must come as a shock, but I've had the best few days getting to hang out with Ash and I'm so thrilled to finally meet. I've heard so much about you!"
"How long have you and Malcolm even known each other?"
Tumblr media
"A week!" she said cheerily. "When you know, you just know. You know?"
She didn't. Heather had never fallen so quickly for anyone. If she did, she probably wouldn't even trust it. "Where did you meet?"
Tumblr media
"She was performing at a festival across town. I was there undercover so no one would think I was there for Simlandia National, and I was mesmerized," Malcolm said. "We spent every day together after that and by the middle of the week I knew if I didn't marry her, I'd regret it." He gazed lovingly at his new wife.
"Your mother must be thrilled," said Heather with a cynical laugh.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I am," said Nancy, turning back to the bachelor reality program she'd been watching. "She's making a name for herself here, but she's already a star in her hometown of Mount Komorebi. It's good for the Landgraabs to associate with popular entertainers. Paparrazzi love it and we love good press."
(She watched this autonomously and I mean...! Nancy 😂)
Heather disliked the Landgraabs far too much to be offended that Nancy hated her career as a vet but welcomed a starving artist into her luxury home. She turned to her ex. "If you can't understand why I'm upset you didn't tell me sooner, I can't help you, Malcolm."
She stormed up the stairs to the landing and watched the world pass by below. Something about the view from Malcolm's penthouse always calmed her. She could hear Malcolm complaining downstairs in his open-plan suite. "She's so uptight! And when does she ever tell me anything? She didn't even tell me about Ash's accident until the next day."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"All of us have been a bit edge since the accident," Conrad reasoned. "But you should have told her the day you went to the courthouse and got married. And not like it really matters, but I've known your son for years and no one has him calling me Papa Conrad."
"She hates me and I don't even deserve half of it! Who needs to waste half their elopement arguing with their ex over text?"
Heather rolled her eyes as cars sped by on the Simmerloop a thousand feet below. "Everything looks so small this high up," said Miko, her reflection appearing behind Heather in the long windows. But Ash followed them, so Heather quickly stuffed her frustration.
Tumblr media
"It makes me feel like I could pick up the whole city and put it in my pocket," she mused.
"I get what you mean. From up here, the chaotic world isn't so chaotic after all."
Heather smiled at her. "It's not that I don't want Ash to have a stepmom. And it's nothing against you personally."
Miko nodded. "It's that, as his mother, you should have met me before we got married and I moved in. I get it, and I'm sorry. I was recording across town when you dropped him off on Friday and Malcolm said it would be fine. But I knew better and I should have said something."
Tumblr media
Heather's shoulders relaxed. "I can't imagine you've had many opportunities to speak your mind this week with the Landgraabs."
Miko smiled. "I'm still finding my voice. Have you had First Breakfast yet, or should I make Second?"
Heather laughed. "I see Geoffrey's gotten to you already."
Miko was a good-hearted geek after Heather's own heart. By the end of the eventful morning, Heather and Miko were closer friends than Miko and Malcolm. As she rode the glass elevator to the ground floor with Ash and Conrad, Heather sighed with relief. "I actually feel better about sending him to the Landgraabs now that Miko's there," she said.
Tumblr media
Heather hoped Miko’s inherent goodness would never waver despite the overbearing influence of the Landgraabs, so she might always have an ally when it came to Nancy’s desires for her son. ->
<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start
Evil snob Malcolm Landgraab with good, geeky Miko Ojo? Yes I mashed them together after they met while Miko was busking (I sent him out to find a wife because I was getting impatient that he wasn't finding anyone on his own, and Miko was chilling in NPC land). Once they met and I knew they were attracted to each other, I built up their relationship and moved her in/married her immediately. Even if their good/evil traits eventually kill this thing, I liked it for the drama.
But this Malcolm aged up to YA with the Music Lover trait so they actually have decent compatibility, and those romance bars in one of the screenshots above are legit! I'm running a not-so-secret side-challenge trying to flip Malcolm's evil trait to good, and I'm hoping Miko will help this along. It's too easy if Malcolm's just the evil bio-dad; I always wanted to make him and their whole split family dynamic more complex.
56 notes · View notes
thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 10 months ago
Text
Life drawing
Tumblr media
Nude model!reader x art student!Zoro.
Modern AU. Sequel to The art model.
This fic is dedicated to @star-yawnznn.
*****
Zoro grins when, opening the house door, he finds himself face to face with a bag of delicious chocolate cookies, courtesy of your mother's bakery, that you're offering him with your arms raised, like a celebrant sacrificing to the Gods.
"You know, there's no need for you to bring something every time you come; you're already doing me a favour."
You shrug as you walk inside, letting him close the door behind you. "Even though he doesn't put on weight, eating so much can't be good for Luffy's health." you point out "And I know you like them."
"Well, they are good..."
You share a smile as you follow him towards the kitchen (like the rest of the house a spacious room, perfectly clean and tidy) where, without even bothering to ask, Zoro uses the enormous coffee machine on the counter to prepare a drink like he knows you like it.
Six months have passed since your first meeting with Zoro at the East Blue Art School, six months since you accepted his request to pose for him privately at home as well as in Shanks' class - your home, at first, since he needed to keep his interest in drawing and art, not to mention the fact he hasn't stopped attending the school years ago, a secret from his father. Unfortunately, last month your landlord has decided to host his niece in the flat's spare room, while she searches for a more stable accommodation. Even more regrettably, your new, temporary flatmate is an aspiring metal guitarist, who told you she needs to practice at least six hours a day if she wants to join one of the best bands in town, which means the place has not known a moment of silence ever since she put down her luggage, as well as her guitar, in the hallway.
Which is why in the last four weeks you have been the one going to Zoro's, instead of the other way around. It's a temporary solution, you have assured him, feeling guilty for the nuisance even though nothing of it was your fault, and hoping you will soon have the whole flat to yourself once more, even though your landlord's niece has not been as industrious in looking for a new place to stay as she has been in preparing for her musical career. You know how important his drawing classes are to Zoro, but he assured you it wouldn't be a problem: his father, a business broker who also manages a fencing school, has recently landed an important client that keeps him at work every day until late.
And so, your already familiar arrangement has changed, the location of your private modelling session shifting from your flat to Zoro's home. You don't mind - you actually like it, and not just because it allows you to get away from your flatmate's guitar for a while. You like going to Zoro's; you like Zoro himself, you have come to realize, and while you do not yet feel ready to confess your feelings, you enjoy spending time with him, and helping him to improve as an artist.
"How was your day? You had a double shift today, if I'm not mistaken." you point out as you accept the coffee Zoro is offering you, and listen as he tells you about his day at work, at the bookstore owned by his friend Kuina's father "You know, I'd be curious to see the shop one day, after you've told me so much about it..."
"You can come whenever you want; I can give you a discount, if Koushirou is not there." he offers, and winks at you; he's wearing a black shirt that makes the green of his hair stand out even more than usual, his three earrings dangling gently when he moves.
"Well, there was a book I was thinking about buying..."
Chocolate cookies, you both agree, go splendidly with coffee. You enjoy your break in silence, at ease next to each other in the kitchen lit up by the soft sunset glow; according to Luffy, Zoro doesn't make friends easily, and you are pretty proud you are now part of that narrow group - or at least, that he doesn't appear to mind you coming to his house.
"Shall we?" you propose in the end; as much as you enjoy his company, the time at your disposal is limited, since you still have work to do for your classes tomorrow "You want to continue with what we were doing last time? I was lying on one side with a book in my hands..."
"Actually..."
"Yes?"
Suddenly tense, Zoro rubs the back of his head, hesitating for a moment as if not knowing how to broach a delicate subject. "I was wondering if this time we could do something a bit different."
Your sessions with Zoro, whether at his place or yours, usually follow the same pattern. Every two times, he asks you to assume a new pose: standing, sitting (on a kitchen chair, on a stool, on the floor...) or lying on the sofa, sometimes with an object in your hands but usually in a way that allows you to read or review your notes. Once you are comfortable, Zoro makes sure the room is well-lit, places a comfortable chair in front of you, retrieves his sketchbook and pencils from the suitcase he keeps them hidden in together with his art school books to make sure his father doesn't find them, and gets to work, drawing diligently for an hour and a half.
It is, in the end, more or less what happens during your classes at the art school; after all Zoro's drawing sessions are the reason you meet, the reason why he asked you to pose for him. You expected to do the same today as well, just like the many times you have met before; you didn't expect him to propose a change... and, you will reflect later on, you have no idea what this day has in store for you.
"What d'you mean?"
Zoro has turned his back to you, focused on the cups you used for your coffee and that he is now washing in the sink "Well... I was thinking today you could pose like you do in class."
"As in...?"
"Naked, yes. Unless, that... bothers you..."
It shouldn't, of course. After all, you have been an art model for six months, and by now you like to think you are quite good at it, since Shanks no longer needs to correct your posture and you can keep the most uncomfortable pose for a long time without complaining, even though the job is more tiring than it looks and in the end your muscles beg for mercy. Besides the fact that it helps you pay rent (you expected your landlord to lower it until his niece found another place to stay, since your apartment is not fully yours anymore, but the thought must have slipped his mind) and your bills, posing is probably the best job you have ever had.
You enjoy it, a lot, in a way you can't properly explain to someone who has never been in your place, and by now you are completely accustomed to pose naked, like you have done from the very first day. Shanks was right, there is nothing sexual, or inappropriate, in being an art model, nothing you should feel guilt or embarrassment for; if the students look at your breast, it is simply to make sure they are correctly drawing it, which is not always easy, and when a couple of months ago, Nami asked you whether you had put on a little weight (you had, no doubt, because of all the treats your mother brings you back from the bakery!) she assured you she only wanted to know because the shape of your belly and thighs had changed marginally and she really wanted to portray you as faithfully as she could. In the end, for the students it wouldn't make much difference if on the stool at the center of their semicircle Shanks had placed a potted plant or a teddy-bear, instead of asking you to sit there, apart from the fact that the human form has been the most popular art subject since time immemorial, and any artist must be capable to competently reproduce it.
You expected your sessions with Zoro to go the same way, which would have been even easier for you, since you would have been in your own home. Instead, the first time he came to your place he said you could keep your clothes on, because the naked body was harder to draw and he, unfortunately, still had to learn to correctly portray clothed people. He had no preference regarding the clothes you wore, and didn't mind to choose poses that allowed you to read or revise your notes during the sessions.
And now this. You should have imagined he would ask you sooner or later, you relect; Zoro's figure drawings have improved since you started posing for him privately, and by now he must feel capable of moving to something more challenging, which means that it is time for you to take your panties off for him - so to speak.
"Of course, if that makes you... uncomfortable, or if you'd rather have someone present..."
"Of course not; it's... all right." you hurry to answer after a moment of uncertainty; after six months of private sessions you had gotten used to posing with your clothes on, but after all it is nothing you haven't done a hundred times already "I didn't bring my night-gown, though."
Zoro gives you this ("It is clean, I swear.") and invites you to leave your clothes in the bathroom near the living room, while he prepares his things.
"I will be just a minute."
"Take your time. Just..." he hesitates, once more as if unsure of what to say, which strikes you as odd - Zoro is not a blabbermouth, but in six months since you met him you never had the impression he was too shy, or afraid, to say what is on his mind. By now you are, if not exactly friends, at least good acquaintances, and you never had troubles finding something to talk about; why does he seem so awkward all of a sudden? What delicate matter is he afraid to broach...? "Listen, you know I'm Luffy friend, do you?"
Considering that your friend's crew has practically adopted you ever since you started posing for their class, so much that you are routinely invited to hang out with them and they all came to your birthday party two months ago, the question sounds unexpected, and weird, at your ears.
"Of course. Why is that relevant now?"
"Nothing. Just... I'll wait for you here, ok?"
Still a little perplexed, you move to the bathroom, where you leave your clothes in a neat pile and refresh yourself; there is nothing more unpleasant than body odour when one is posing, naked or otherwise. Zoro's night-gown is, predictably, not exactly the right fit for you, which shouldn't be a problem, since you are going to take it off in less than a minute, but wearing it feels strange all the same... intimate, in a way. You had never worn a man's clothes before, or rather, no man had ever given you his clothes to wear, and having Zoro do it, even just to avoid having you walk buck naked around his house...
You chide yourself for those naive, childish thoughts, especially towards a man on whom you can no longer deny having a crush, and whose company you genuinely enjoy; you don't want Zoro to think he made you uncomfortable. You are here to pose for him, and pose for him you will, like the professional model you are; everything else doesn't matter... even though you have to admit, you like being alone with Zoro, having his attention focused on you. A secret, innocent joy you allow yourself to indulge in.
You wash away what is left of the make-up you had applied earlier, before heading to work, remain for a moment still, staring at your reflection and reminding yourself you are an adult and ought to behave accordingly, and then leave the bathroom.
Zoro is preparing your station in the living room, with a lamp near the sofa, on which you have already posed lying many times... after taking off your shoes, and nothing else. His sketchbook and pencils are placed on a little table near his favourite chair, retrieved from their hiding spot in the suitcase; propped against the chair's armrest are Zoro's three swords. He doesn't carry them around when he is at home, but, he told you, he always keeps them close, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment, even in the safety of his own home: it is a not uncommon habit among swordsmen, that his master (and father) accustomed him to since he was a child.
He turns, startled a little, when he hears you approach, and when he sees you wearing his night-gown he seems to have troubles swallowing for a moment. "So, uhm, everything ok?"
You wonder whether he expected you to have troubles taking your clothes off. "Sure. So... how do you want me?" you ask back; then, suddenly realizing how that question, that you must have posed a hundred times before, might sound differently from how you had intended it, you hurry to rephrase: "What pose do you want me to assume?"
Zoro asks you to lie in profile, propped on one elbow, with one leg stretched and the other partially bent towards your belly; the pose is similar to one Shanks asked you to assume for a class at the Art School last month, which leads you to suspect Zoro was not satisfied of his work of that day. He looks away, seemingly embarrassed, when he sees you take off his night-gown, even though he saw you do the same at the school a hundred times already.
You don't find it weird. In fact, it might be because you're doing it in a new place for the first time, but for a moment you feel awkward as well, almost as if that gesture had a different meaning, almost as if it mattered...
The night-gown passes from your hand to his; while your gazes don't meet, your hands brush against each other.
"Thank you."
"Yeah, no problem."
A moment later you are lying on the sofa, easily settling in the same position as a few weeks ago.
"Are you comfortable?" Zoro asks you, and you nod, by now used to the slight inconvenience of an unnatural pose, since no one, especially not at your age, has ever died from a stiff arm or a sore leg, and by now Shanks' class has drawn you in positions that wouldn't be out of place in the experts' section of a yoga manual.
"Yeah, don't worry. Can you take my book from my bag, please? I have an exam next week..."
A minute later Zoro is already sitting at his place, the sketchbook balanced on his knee, the by now familiar whisper of the pencil rubbing on the paper filling the room. As usual you remain still as a statue, face lowered on the pages of your book... even though your eyes keep rising to the young man in front of you; at times your gazes meet, and you could swear Zoro's eyes are smiling even though his expression remains serious.
You like this, you have realized for a while, this weird menage you have built together, the chaste intimacy of posing for a single artist and the innocent flattery of having his full attention focused on you - if only because Zoro wants to makes sure he draws the angle of your shoulder as faithfully as he can. You have no idea how long he will need your help for, or if he will ever decide he can do without your private sessions, but you are determined to enjoy it as long as it lasts, and to pose for him every time he asks you to, even if it means sacrificing the little free time school and work leave you; it is a very unexpected sort of relationship, perhaps an anomalous one, intimate and at the same time strictly professional, but you treasure it all the same. Zoro is not a particularly personable man, you have come to suspect, but you know he is fond of you, and appreciates you as a model and a person.
You can't help wanting more. But at the same time you are happy with what you have, and you hope it lasts.
Zoro draws in complete silence for a while, while you revise two chapters of your book, trying to make sense of your own notes.
"You are not cold?" he asks after a while, and you assure him you are all right; you have already noticed Zoro has turned the heating on, no doubt more for your benefit than his, since you are the one who can't simply put a sweater on if she gets chilly. You'll have to thank him.
"My father knows about you, you know." he adds, almost absentmindedly, and your are immediately alarmed.
"What?! He knows...?"
"Not that you pose for me, and I still attend the East Blue; he... he knows I had a girl over, that's it." Zoro explains, face momentarily hidden behind his sketchbook "Last time... I forgot to wash the coffee cups, and he noticed there was a trace of lipstick on the border of one."
"Oh, God, Zoro, I'm sorry..."
"That's ok." he assures you, while a sudden grin blossoms on his lips "He didn't mind, and I doubt he could ever imagine what we do. He just thought... you know..."
You force yourself not to smile. "... that you have a girlfriend?" you finish for him "And that you had taken advantage of his absence to invite her over?"
"Something like that, yes. I... I didn't correct him, I hope you don't mind."
You don't. "I don't." At all. Another small, innocent pleasure, part of a little fantasy you're probably too old for but that in the end doesn't hurt anyone; and truth to be told, you are happy to help Zoro, since you know how much attending the drawing school means to him. You return your attention to your book, but try as you might you really can't focus, let alone memorize the notions on the page in front of you, your eyes simply skimming the text without retaing any information.
And the fault is his. Well, it is yours, to be honest, since you are by now an expert model, not to mention a veteran student and an adult woman, and you should be able to ignore the presence of a man, no matter how handsome, and concentrate on something as important as an imminent exam. For God's sake, Zoro has never skipped a class at the art school, which means that you have taken off your clothes in front of him two times a week for six months! By now he knows your naked body so well he could draw it by heart, and he does need a model, even though his life drawings have improved, it isn't simply a ruse to... meet you in a more private setting and... and... and why are you fantasizing about that, now?!
Oh, God. You do like him, you realize suddenly, much more than you had imagined or allowed yourself to think until today. He is handsome, and athletic, and he has a beautiful smile, but in six months since you first met you have learnt to know Zoro, and to appreciate and respect him as a man and as a friend as well; you like how protective he is of his friends (and of you, given that time that a drunk man approached you as he was walking you back at the bus stop after a drawing session; Zoro drew the Wado Ichimonji and threatened to amputate any part of his body the man would touch you with) and steadfast in the pursuit of his dream, and kind-hearted towards those who suffer or endure injustice, even though those who know him less well wrongly consider him cold and selfish. You are attracted to him, and while you already enjoy being his model and friend, you do wish your relationship would develop beyond that... you wish to be important for him, to feel his gaze brush against your skin and know he is not simply wondering whether he drew your arm faithfully enough or he should start over.
"Shanks is very pleased with your progress." you mention after a while; unlike what happens during class at the art school, where silence is religiously kept from the beginning to the end of the class, Zoro told you he doesn't mind chatting a bit while he draws, and he is exactly the sort of conversationalist you prefer: no interest in small talk, and has always something interesting to say "I heard him saying that at the end of your last class."
Zoro is pleased, even smug, as he smiles and tilts his head to one side, as if to observe you from a marginally different perspective. "He did say I got better at life drawing, even though I shouldn't focus on that and neglect my other classes."
"I'm sure that won't happen."
"I hope not... and in any case, if I improved I also owe it to you. I haven't forgotten how much you're doing for me, (name)."
"I'm doing nothing, just staying still."
"You know what I mean. I know you'd have many better things to do with your time, and you're not even letting me pay you..."
"Zoro... we are friends." you point out, completely serious; you are now looking straight at him, so engrossed in your conversation to notice you have broken the first, cardinal rule for all art models: never change pose mid-session "You know I could never ask you money. I am happy to help you, since I know how much this matters to you."
Zoro looks at you; he has stopped drawing, even through you couldn't say exactly when. "We weren't friends when you accepted to pose for free."
"No, but you were Luffy's friend, which is equally important. Would you have accepted to be paid, if you were in my place?"
"Maybe I would have."
"No, you wouldn't have."
"No, I wouldn't have." he admits, and smiles at you, and you have never wanted to kiss anyone so much in your life "Anyway, I owe you, truly. Thank you."
You assure him you are happy to be his model, and you really are, so much that you hope your sessions will continue even now that his life drawings have improved; truth to be told, you'll happily spend the evenings of the rest of your life posing for Zoro... unless, of course, one of the two decides, or in your case finds the courage, to ask the other out.
"I think you changed position."
"Yeah, sorry." you admit as you lower your gaze once more.
"No, it's your arm."
"My arm?" you repeat, perplexed, since you hadn't noticed you had moved it "Are you sure?"
"Yes, you moved it when you used your hand to turn the page. Wait..."
Zoro stands, crossing the living room floor in a quick stride until he's keeling in front of the sofa; not looking at you (accurately not looking at you) he lifts your wrist with his fingers and moves your arm a few inches to the left. It's a completely innocent gesture, but you choose that very moment to unthinkingly move on the cushion, searching for a more comfortable position... and inadvertently pressing your chest against Zoro's hand.
His fingers are warm against the skin of your breast, the sensation clear, almost painfully so, despite the contact lasting less than a second. You gasp, more out of surprise than alarm, but that is nothing compared to Zoro's reaction: he jumps, retracting his hand as if he had burned himself, and his face has burst into flames as well, his usually tan complexion turning a bright red.
"Oh my God...!!"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Zoro almost shouts; he moves back so quickly he almost trips on his own feet "I didn't do it on purpose, I swear..."
"It's ok; I'm sorry, it was my fault, I moved... in the least appropriate moment." you admit, feeling yourself blush as well; you have never felt so embarrassed, and so naked, in your life, not even during your first session with Shanks' class "Zoro, forgive me, I made you... uncomfortable..."
He sighs, unable to look you in the eyes, his face still bright red as he covers it with his hand, standing five paces from you. "No, the fault is mine. Shanks always says an artist should never approach a model without asking for permission, let alone touch them... especially if they are naked."
He lowers his hand, gazing at it as if he could read his future in the lines of the palm; that is the hand he touched you with.
"I shouldn't have asked you to pose nude; I'm sorry."
"I'm perfectly used to it, as you very well know." you insist, desperately trying to ease the tension.
"Yes, at the school; I thought... it would be different now that you're here..."
Silence falls on the room, and between the two of you, for the first time since you met an uncomfortable, somewhat charged silence that you don't quite know how to interpret... as if you were standing over the edge of a precipice.
"I thought... you wanted to practice drawing clothed people, because it was easier..."
"I did." Zoro admits, as he retreats to his chair; he picks up the scabbard of the Wado Ichimonji, his fingers idly fiddling with the strap "At first. To be honest, I have felt ready to shift to nude drawing for a while, but I didn't want..."
"You didn't want...?"
"Oh, hell!" Zoro exclaims, finally turning to look at you; he seems angry, even though not necessarily at you "I didn't want you to think I wanted to look at you naked! I know you trust me because I'm Luffy's friend, and that posing naked is the rule, but I was afraid you would think that I had... designs on you and would take advantage of our drawing sessions to... to..."
He stops mid-sentence, but he doesn't need to continue; he has said enough, more than enough, to make your heart skip a beat - or four.
"... listen, let's just forget it, all right? You can get dresses, I can start over..."
"And you do?"
"... sorry?"
"You have designs on me?" you quietly ask as you slowly change position once more, sit on the sofa and then stand, only partially using your arm to cover your chest "Not that you would take advantage of me, or try to hurt me in any way; I know you are not that sort of man. But... did you ever consider having me naked in your house, while we are alone, could change things between us?"
"I... I..."
"That something might... develop?"
Zoro's face is still burning; he is stuttering, something almost unimaginable for a usually collected, self-assured man, but it is sweet seeing him like this... and you would lie if you said discovering you can have this effect on him is not exciting.
"I would not blame you for it; the heart has rules of its own, like my mother always says, and it's not like I'm the woman of your best friend or your step-sister. Also, I must confess... I would be flattered. And very happy."
A few more moments of silence follow, as you let Zoro fully grasp the meaning of your words, and he seemingly gives you time to recant them or elaborate with limits and conditions - something you have no intention of doing. You have known Zoro for six months; too little to speak of love, perhaps, or to make plans for the future, but more than enough to know that you like and care for him, sincerely and well beyond his undeniable physical beauty. You want to be more than a model for him... and you want him to do more than simply look at you, studing the shape of your hipbone or the position of your elbow.
Much more.
You are so engrossed in each other neither hears the sound of the house door opening. Zoro turns towards you, delicately placing his sword back against his chair's armrest; he is in full control of himself once more, not smiling and still five paces away, but the intensity of his gaze, the barely controlled desire in his brown eyes, makes you feel as if you could already feel his hands (warm, elegant, used to both wield a sword and hold a pencil, capable of being both gentle and strong) brushing against your skin, caressing it, worshipping...
"Are you sure?" he asks in the end, taking a single step towards you "Because I'd really like to..."
"Zoro, are you home?"
The voice coming from the corridor outside the living room is masculine, refined and more mature than that of the young man in front of you; it expressed a simple question, the tone relaxed and devoid of tension, but both of you react as if a known criminal had just threatened to make the house blow up.
"My father." Zoro whispers, suddenly panicking; he looks back at the chair on which his sketchbook and pencils are still placed, close enough to the door anyone coming into the room would see them for sure. And if that someone is Zoro's father, the man who has no idea he is still attending the art school, years after demanding he withdraw, you don't even want to know what could happen... "Oh, God... cover yourself, quick!"
Zoro quickly grabs his night-gown, that he had left on the back of the sofa, and passes it to you; you take it, look at him, need just half a second to assess your priorities, and throw the night-gown on his chair, where it neatly falls covering his drawing tools.
"What...?"
A moment later the door opens. "Zoro, are you here? I just need... oh."
Until today you had only seen Zoro's father in pictures, like the one of the two of them at the fencing school hanging from the living room's wall, and you doubt Zoro had even told him about you, even just as a friend, at least until his father had noticed a trace of your lipstick on a coffee cup; therefore, this is your first meeting and God, you couldn't imagine a worst possible situation... nor, it must be acknowledged, a more memorable one.
Dracule Mihawk is a tall, very attractive man in his forties, with dark hair, a neatly trimmed bear, and beautiful bird-like eyes that earned him the sobriquet he is mostly known under. Zoro, who deeply respects him even though he still sees the older man more like a mentor and a future adversary than a father, told you he is gifted with an almost preternatural self-control, never letting himself be carried away by his emotions and very rarely reacting with joy, surprise or sadness when something unexpected happens.
You should perhaps be proud of yourself, then, since your presence in his house, and especially your state of undress, leaves the strongest swordsman in the world completely speechless.
"Zoro... what is happening?" he asks in the end, turning to look at his son "Who is this girl? Why is she... oh." he adds after a moment, averting his eyes "I see I'm interrupting."
Zoro quickly steps in front of you, who are staring at your feet as you desperately try to cover your most intimate parts with your hands. "She... she is my friend (name)."
"I see. I'll leave the you alone, I just needed to take some papers. I... apologize for disturbing you."
He nods at Zoro and then at you (who force yourself to reciprocate, fully aware that you must be red as a beetroot), turns, not noticing or perhaps not pay attention to the night-gown on the chair, and leaves, closing the door behind him.
For a whole minute both you and Zoro remain still as statues - or as models posing. "Do you think he suspected something?" you finally ask in a whisper, fearing your quick thinking was not enough to keep Mihawk in the dark. On the other hand, findinga naked girl in his home is technically not something the tutor of a young man should feel suspicious about...
"I... don't think so." Zoro answers slowly as he turns towards you; he is close enough you can feel the warmth of his body on yours, so close you could kiss him without having to move... "You... covered my drawing things instead of yourself."
"I did. Believe me, that was the most embarrassing moment of my life, but... I know how important it is for you to keep attending the art school, and that you don't want to disappoint your father, so I thought..."
Zoro grins as he takes your head in his hands; the purest affection shines in his brown eyes. He kisses you on the forehead and "I just want to make sure everything's all right." he quickly explains "He wouldn't take it out on you, he's not that sort of man, just... give me a minute, ok?"
"Of course. Can I take your night-gown if I hide...?"
"No."
You smile. "All right." you answer, and Zoro winks at you before following Mihawk out of the room. A couple of minutes, and pressing your ear against the door allows you to listen to the conversation between father and son.
"If you wanted to have the house to yourself for an evening you could have told me, Zoro. You're an adult, I would have had nothing against it."
"I know, just... I didn't really expect it to happen. And you're usually not at home at this hour."
"As I said, I had forgotten a few documents I had to look over with my new client. She's the girl you told me about, the one of the lipstick? Is she your girlfriend or...?"
A few moments pass before Zoro's answer; suddenly, you wonder whether he suspects you are listening. "Not yet; but I was planning on asking her tonight."
"Good. I don't mind if she stays the night, but if she doesn't, make sure your friend gets home safely."
Zoro promises he will. A minute later, the house door opens and closes, and soon after, Zoro returns to you, looking relieved but somewhat gloomy.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, just..." Zoro smiles as he takes you in, still completely naked, clearly appreciating the view way beyond simply as a good subject for a portrait, but a moment later he sighs "I... don't like lying to him. I know he never wanted children, but he took good care of me for years; he deserves better."
"You're old enough to decide how to live your life, Zoro. I know your father is a swordsman, and I don't doubt he only wants what's best for you, but what's so wrong with liking to draw?"
Zoro tells you that for people like him and Mihawk, the sword is much more than a hobby or an interest, no matter how passionately one practices it - it is a call, a way of life, a purpose one has to focus all their energies and willpower on, and that leaves no space for anything else. "Truth to be told, the sword is my real passion; as much as I like drawing, that's what I have decided to dedicate my life to, the thing I would choose if I had to pick one. It's just..."
"Just...?"
"My parents could draw. They were illustrators, for books and advertising and other things; they taught me, and then since I liked it, they sent me to the school. I know I'm not as good an artist as I am a swordsman, probably not good enough to earn my living with that, but I do like it, and... and drawing makes me feel close to them. You know, as if they were still with me."
Zoro looks at you, vaguely apologetic as if he felt guilty for ruining the intimate moment you were about to share with his sad musings. You don't mind; if anything, you have discovered a new part of him, the insecure, uncertain heart of a young man torn between his dreams and obligations, between the devotion to his birth parents and the loyalty to the man who has taken care of him. A part of him Zoro probably does his best to keep hidden, because he is that sort of man, but that you have discovered, and you can't help loving it.
"What are you smiling about?" Zoro wonders as he rests his hands on your naked hips, his touch relatively chaste but possessive enough to make you shiver pleasantly.
"I was just thinking how happy I am Luffy convinced me to come pose at the school." you muse "I found a new job I really enjoy, some great new friends, and..."
"... and you met me? Is this what you were going to say?"
"Hmm, perhaps..."
You laugh; Zoro laughs with you. "I'd really like to kiss you now." he murmurs in the end; in the well-lit room, you can see he has blushed, just a little "If that's all right for you, that is."
"Of course it is."
Zoro's lips are hot against yours. You waste no time before kissing him back, messy and awkward at first, but soon your mouths learn to know each other, they find a rhythm to follow and pursue together, a wild, unrestrained dance that you feel already addicted to a minute later, and soon your tongue finds Zoro's in his mouth, and his moan of pleasure reverberates through your body.
"(name)... fuck..."
His hands are still grasping at your hips, his whole body tense; he's still restraining himself, not wanting to take more than you are willing to give, but the time for qualms is over, and you want Zoro to know that while this is not how you expected your relationship to begin, you don't regret it, far from it, and you have never desired anything and anyone like him, and his hands on your skin.
"Touch me, Zoro." you whisper, your lips still pressed against his "Please, I need you to touch me..."
He moans again, fierce and avid and hungry, as he takes your face in his hands and then lets an arm snake around your waist, pressing your body flush against his; Zoro is still clothed, but you can feel the effect your nudity has had on him through the fabric of his jeans. You roll your hips against his erection, just as his free hand descends to squeeze your ass, and you both whimper.
"Let's go to my room." he proposes in a whisper, and you eagerly nod. Zoro quickly retrieves his swords, while you hold his sketchbook and pencils against your chest, then offers you his free hand, and you let him guide you towards the corridor.
"In here."
The room is large but sparsely furnished, which you expected; the bed is the sort with the mattress, covered by a duvet, directly placed on the floor. "Nice." you comment as Zoro, whose hands are shaking slightly, retrieves the suitcase, to hide his drawing tools, from the closet. He turns, and grins - no, he smiles at you.
"I changed the bedding this morning."
"Which has nothing to do with the fact you wanted to ask me to pose naked, I'm sure..."
He doesn't deny it, but he laughs - an unexpected, happy sound that fills your heart with tenderness, and the desire to hear it again. Zoro places his swords next to the bed, to be grabbed at a moment's notice; you want to ask him whether he expects an assault during the night, but a moment later Zoro has started undressing, and it would be physically impossible for you to focus on anything else.
As you expected, he has the body of an athlete, without an ounce of fat, well-muscled shoulders and arms, a flat stomach... and a large scar marring his chest, clearly old but still evident enough to make you pause.
"Oh, God... who did this to you?" you murmur, your fingers brushing against the edge of the wound as you try to imagine how painful it must have been "Was it... during a competition...?"
"Not exactly. It was my father."
"What?! Zoro, he could have killed you!" you cry, appalled; he doesn't deny it, but looks distinctly blasé about it, as he explains he had officially challenged Mihawk, foolishly thinking he had even just a single chance of winning, and his teacher had to show him how tremendously wrong he had been.
"That seems... cruel... I mean, towards any students, and especially his own son..."
Zoro shrugs, as if he really didn't care, or perhaps challenges and duels between swordsmen followed rules you cannot understand. "I'm not saying it was pleasant; but it taught me a lot, and from that day, I have promised myself I would never be defeated again."
"Well, if you're happy..."
Zoro takes your hands in his. For a moment all you can do is look at each other, and while you are the one who had never seen the other naked before, you can see awe, and desire, in the brown eyes of the man who has seen you unclothed a hundred times already. He kisses you once more before accompanying you down on the bed, and from there your hands start moving, hungrily searching, caressing, stimulating, and a sensual symphony of moans fills the air. His lips close around your nipple, and you instantly forget how to breathe; your heart is pounding, a fire burning down in your belly, and you have no words to describe how much you want him, which means that you'll have to show him...
Zoro's erection is beautiful, heavy and proudly erect, soft green hair descending from his navel in a thin strip and surrounding the base; you look at him in the eyes as you play with it, your hand moving up and down around the thick column. Zoro sighs, a lazy and happy smile on his lips, as he bucks his hips. "Oh, God, (name)..."
"You like this?"
"I love this... oh, this is even better than I had imagined..."
He has to ask you to stop after a few minutes, and takes your hand in his. "I don't have anything to put on." he confesses, which startles you a bit.
"Oh."
"I'm sorry, I... never really needed them." he admits, as he rubs the back of his head, like you have already seen him do when embarrassed "I can... go buy some; there's a pharmacy across the street."
You reflect on it for a moment. "No; if you don't mind, I'd like you to stay." you answer in the end as you turn on one side, scooting even closer to him "We can... cuddle, that'd be nice as well."
Your idea is approved. In the next two hours you do much more than simply cuddle, exploring each other's body and exchanging your pleasure; you talk a lot, play, joke, and simply enjoy that intimacy and closeness you both want to experience together. Part of you is deeply disappointed you didn't get to have sex with Zoro, especially given you are almost embarrassingly wet and the touch of his hands is addictive, especially when you see his fingers disappear between your legs, but the evening is lovely all the same, your body and Zoro's locked in an embrace. You didn't revise for your imminent exam like you had planned, but given what you have spent the last two hours doing, you feel physically unable to care.
"I really like you, you know." he whispers in the end; he has found a pizza in the kitchen's freezer and now you're eating together on the bed, still naked like the day you were born, and it may be the company, but you feel as if you had never had a better meal. After all, you did tell him he could buy you a pizza as payment for your posing sessions... "Not just because I think you are beautiful."
There is a spot of tomato sauce on his lip; you smile as you clean it with your thumb. "You do?"
"Of course. And I think you're kind, and generous, and you care about your friends, and... what I'm trying to say..." he sighs, and then mumbles something unintelligible, but you don't mind, because you are confident you know already what he wants, because you heard him talk about it with his father, and you want it as well.
"I'd like that." you answer as you place the empty pizza plate on the floor next to the table and then lay next to him once more; it's not exactly the grand declaration of love you had hoped to receive sooner or later, but it is very Zoro, and because of this it is perfect "I'd like that very much."
"Are you sure?"
"Zoro, I don't know what else I could do to show you I like you as well. Now, I can't stay the night because I have class early tomorrow. What about we cuddle some more before I have to go back?"
Zoro happily takes you in his arms, smiling as you rest your cheek against his shoulder. "You know, a lot of artists are jealous of their models." he mentions, his fingers delicately playing with your hair "So I hope you won't let anyone else draw you, at least like this... and that you'll pose for me again."
"You don't have to worry." you whisper back as you turn in his arms; his hips press against yours, making you shiver pleasantly "I'll be your model, and only yours, as long as you want me to."
Tumblr media
76 notes · View notes
rafemotherfuckingcameron · 1 year ago
Text
GUNS, BITCHES, WEED, MONEY, YSL, GOLD CHAIN, MASERATI, PENTHOUSE, HELICOPTER, FAME
Word Count: 3.9K
Pairing(s): Ward x Reader, Sarah x Reader, Rafe x protective!reader
Warnings: Flirting, Violence, Gun Violence, Home Invasion, SMUT MDNI 18+
Summary: Fem!reader has been hired by Ward to protect his children when a business arrangement takes a turn for the worse and he discovers that a reward has been offered for their capture.
Tumblr media
Part 1
Today marked the day when I was employed by Ward Cameron to ensure the safety of his children. I received an invitation to my boss's office, where I had the opportunity to meet Ward and discuss the specifics of my new role.
He extended his hand for a handshake and proceeded to explain his situation, suggesting that a young woman would seamlessly fit into his family and serve as an ideal undercover bodyguard. My boss then handed me three files containing the names of each child: Wheezie Cameron, Sarah Cameron, and Rafe Cameron.
After the meeting, we all stood up, and Ward returned to shake my hand once more. "Remember, no one can discover the existence of this arrangement," he emphasized, and I nodded in agreement. The reward for this assignment was set at $1 million per child or $4 million for all three. I was entrusted with their protection at any cost. 
Ward Cameron had been a highly respected figure in the Outer Banks until this deal went awry. I was uncertain whether the children were aware of his business, but it was my responsibility to investigate and ensure their safety from any potential threats.
That evening, I dove into each of the files, beginning with Sarah Cameron:
Age: 16 Description: Blonde hair Height: 150cm Noteworthy details: Friends with the Pogues, straddles the line between being a Kook and classifying as a Pogue. She's exceptionally bright with outstanding grades and seems to have a close bond with her father.
These were the key highlights from her file.
Moving on to Wheezie Cameron:
She didn't appear to be of much concern, as she mostly stayed at home with Rose.
Rafe Cameron's file, on the other hand, contained the most substantial information:
Age: 20 Description: Dirty blonde hair, deep blue eyes Height: 188cm Notable details: He's a typical frat boy, the eldest child, known as the Kook Prince, has issues with anger, and appears to be somewhat spoiled.
Rafe's file was particularly intriguing because it reminded me of my own past less than two years ago.
The following day marked my first day on the job. I pulled up at Tanny Hill in my sleek Matt Black Maserati dressed in a cute beach outfit.
As I arrived, I encountered Ward, who was coming out of the house with Rose. He introduced me to Rose as one of his clients' daughters and explained that I would be staying with them for a while.
Ward kindly assisted me with my luggage and guided me indoors to meet the rest of the family. Upon entering the kitchen, I was greeted by two lovely young girls.
"Sarah, Wheezie, meet Y/N," Ward announced as he circled the island counter.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," I greeted them warmly, offering a friendly smile.
"Sarah, could you please show Y/N to her bedroom?" Ward requested, and she readily agreed. She picked up one of my suitcases and led me upstairs to the third floor. There were only two bedrooms on this level.
"This is your room, and your ensuite is through there," she indicated the closed door in the corner of the room.
"I'm having a few friends over tonight, and you're welcome to join us if you'd like," she added as she placed my suitcase on the bed.
"Yeah, I'd be delighted to join," I responded as I began unpacking my belongings.
"Great. I'm just going to change; if you need me, I'll be on the second floor, first door on the right," Sarah informed me, to which I nodded in acknowledgment.
After she left the room, I proceeded to set up all my security and surveillance equipment. Around 6 in the evening, I could hear her friends arriving, prompting me to decide to head downstairs and introduce myself.
Sarah introduced me to Kiara, Pope, JJ, and her boyfriend John B, a detail I hadn't come across in the files. We all made our way to the fire pit and gathered around, discussing how they had all met Sarah.
To be honest, they weren't my usual crowd; they were sitting there, casually smoking weed. But in the end, I reminded myself that my primary responsibility was to protect Sarah.
As the evening progressed and the temperature dropped, JJ suggested that we all get into the spa to warm up. Everyone agreed and hopped in. Since I had my bikini on underneath my clothes, there was no need for me to change. The spa, while not large, had enough room for all of us. 
We stayed in for a while, engaging in a conversation about life. Eventually, Pope, JJ, and Kiara had to leave, and I got out as well to grab a drink from inside the house.
Upon reentering the house, I encountered someone who I presumed to be the eldest son, Rafe. Viewed from behind, his muscular physique was absolutely striking.
He turned around, revealing his sun-kissed, well-toned abs, which sent shivers through my body. He was undoubtedly the most handsome and attractive man I had ever seen. He was shirtless, and his pronounced V-line left little to the imagination, knowing that he’s big.
"You must be Y/N, my father mentioned you'd be staying with us," he remarked, eyeing me up and down. Closing the distance, he positioned himself a few feet away.
"Yes, I am, and you must be Rafe," I replied, playfully pointing my finger back at him with a smirk. He nodded and let out a small laugh.
"To be completely honest, when I heard one of my client's daughters was coming to stay, I wasn't thrilled. But now that I see what a beautiful girl you are, I think I've changed my mind," he confessed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear and running his index finger along my jawline to my chin.
His touch made my cheeks flush with warmth. I took a step back and moved around him, heading for the sink to pour a glass of water. "Is that what you say to all the girls?" I quipped, looking back at him with a mischievous grin.
He chuckled and shook his head, walking over to me. I turned back around as he placed his hands on either side of my body, effectively trapping me.
"Feel like something a bit stronger than that, sweetheart?" he murmured, leaning in closer. I could feel his arousal pressing against my clothed pussy, causing me to grow increasingly aroused by the second.
"Only if you're on the menu," I flirted back, leaning in as I trailed my fingertips along his arm and up to his shoulder. "You should come join us in the spa, and then I won't be the only one that's wet," I whispered into his ear, teasingly. With that, I pushed past him and returned outside to the spa.
As we continued our time in the spa, Sarah and John B suggested playing truth or dare. It happened to be Sarah's turn to do a dare. "Sarah............I dare you to make out with Y/N," John B declared, his eyes fixed on Sarah.
Just as Sarah settled down beside me, Rafe emerged from the house and made his way over to the spa. He gracefully entered and took a seat next to me, resting his arms on the edge, with his fingertips gently brushing against my shoulder.
"Rafe, you've arrived just in time. I dared Sarah to kiss Y/N," John B announced with a grin, causing Rafe's gaze to quickly return to me.
Sarah leaned and I tilted my head, our lips connected and her hand came to my waist. My hand rested in her neck and then she slipped her tongue in.
The kiss lasted about 6 seconds and when I returned to my seat the boy's faces were red hot. I could see Rafe fixing the bulge in his pants and shifting closer to me. 
Sarah took her turn and directed her gaze at her brother. "Rafe, I dare you to suck any part of Y/N's body from the neck down for 10 seconds," she challenged, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Rafe smiles and turns to me, he gestures for me to sit on the edge of the pool and he kneels down and opens my legs. He brings his head down and sucks on my inner thigh.
His nose brushes my clothed clit and moan leaves my lips. My cheeks went bright pink, but it felt so good. He knew what he was doing. 
After the 10 seconds had passed, Rafe grabbed my hand and gently pulled me back into the water. We continued to enjoy our time in the spa for a few more minutes.
Eventually, Ward called out, signaling that it was time to head back inside. Reluctantly, we all made our way back to the house. John B left, and Rafe retreated to his room.
One Week Later,
Since that night in the spa, Sarah and I had become close friends. We spent most of our time by the pool or out on their jetty. She would share stories about John B and how she envisioned a future with him, along with all the typical topics that teenagers discuss.
As we strolled along the jetty, Ward approached us with an announcement. He explained that they were going to visit their grandparents for the night and would return around lunchtime the next day.
Ward instructed Sarah to pack her belongings for the overnight stay and join them in the car. After Sarah departed to prepare, he confided in me that Rafe would be staying behind while the rest of us were leaving.
"Please keep a close eye on my son," he requested. "Sometimes when we're away, he can get a bit lonely." I nodded in understanding as they drove off.
With their departure, Rafe remained in his room. He had spent the previous night at a friend's house and was nursing a hangover. 
I had turned off all the lights, preparing to start watching a movie when I suddenly heard a noise outside. Although the house was securely locked up, that didn't guarantee someone couldn't find a way inside.
I cautiously approached the window and pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. What I saw sent a shiver down my spine: a man with a gun and a knife tucked into his back pocket.
In a rush of panic, I quickly and quietly made my way upstairs to retrieve my own gun, concealing it in my pants. My next destination was Rafe's bedroom, which fortunately was right next to mine.
Just as I was about to knock on Rafe's door, I heard the sound of glass shattering, confirming my fears that the intruder was now inside the house. My heart pounding, I moved towards the staircase and glanced over the railing, where I saw him roaming around, gun in hand, scanning for his next move.
I quietly retreated to Rafe's door, not bothering to knock. He was lying face down, wearing gray track pants. Carefully, I approached him to ensure he was still alive. Placing two fingers below his jaw, I felt for a heartbeat. His head shifted slightly as my cold fingers made contact with his skin.
He turned over, "About time -" He was cut off by my hand swiftly covering his mouth as I sat down on his bed. I sensed a smirk beneath my hand and signalled for him to remain silent. With a gentle retreat, I removed my hand.
"Shhhhhhh, don't panic. There's someone in the house, and he's armed!" I whispered urgently. Rafe attempted to rise, but I firmly pushed him back onto the bed. He sat there, trying to pull me closer, but I shook my head and went to lock the door.
Just as I was about to return to him, I heard footsteps just outside the door, followed by the intruder's phone ringing. Rafe shifted to the other side of the bed, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.
The intruder answered his phone with an unsettling message:
"Hey, I'm in. I don't think anyone's home... I'll check all the rooms before I leave... I'll see you in 20." After ending the call, he proceeded further into my room.
I hastily returned to Rafe, grasping his arm and pulling him into the ensuite. We both entered the shower and shut the door, our hearts pounding. Moments later, we heard the intruder forcefully open the door to Rafe's room.
I paced nervously around the shower, and then Rafe's phone rang, a mistake on our part as we had left it behind when we hid.
"I know someone is here, you left your phone behind!" the intruder yelled. He continued to approach the bathroom door, and I could feel Rafe's heart racing.
I turned to him, placing my hand over his heart, and slowly retrieved my gun, aiming it towards the man. Rafe's arms enveloped me, his shock evident upon discovering the weapon in my possession.
The intruder cornered us in the bathroom, spotting both of us, and demanded that I put the gun down. However, I held my ground. "You put yours down first!" I yelled back at him.
As he stepped closer, I sensed Rafe stepping out from behind me and pushing the intruder against the wall. Rafe started throwing punches at the intruder's abdomen, but the intruder retaliated by striking Rafe over the head with the gun, causing him to collapse to the floor.
Turning back to me, the intruder saw me placing the gun into my pants and decided to challenge me directly. I signaled for him to come at me, and he lunged.
He threw punches and tried his best moves, but I managed to evade each of his attacks. When he was finally down, I used my handcuffs to secure him to the heater near the window.
I rushed back over to Rafe, who was holding his head, and the area around it had started to bleed. I helped him up and sat him on the edge of the bed. Turning away from the intruder, I knelt down to inspect Rafe's wounds. That was my second mistake. 
The intruder had managed to cut himself free with his knife and sneaked up behind me, holding the knife to my throat. Rafe tried to assist, but he was in too much pain.
I shifted my body to the side, stepped on the intruder's foot, threw my head back, and thrusted my elbow into his chest, causing him to release me. He grabbed his gun and regained control of the situation.
“Bitch………I’ll kill you for that, or better yet I’ll kill him and I don’t care about the reward. Your reward enough!” The intruder's threat was chilling as he pointed the gun directly at my head, then turning to point it at Rafe.
Time seemed to slow as I considered my options and the gravity of the situation. Every move had to be calculated and precise to ensure his safety.
As the intruder menacingly questioned me with the gun pointed at his head, I could feel the tension in the room escalating. The air seemed heavy with anticipation as he asked, "Any last words, Mr. Cameron?" His finger hovered over the trigger, and the threat was imminent.
In a split-second decision to defend Rafe, I managed to wrestle the gun from his grasp and fired a shot that struck him in the chest. He stumbled backward and collapsed to the floor, but he was still alive.
I hovered over him, the gun aimed at him once more, and asked firmly, "Who do you work for?" 
Bending down, I awaited his response, determined to uncover the truth behind this intrusion.
In a final act of defiance, the intruder defiantly spat out blood and threatened, "You'll die for this!"
I responded resolutely, "No, you will if you don't tell me who you work for."
With a bitter grin, he retorted, "Kill me then, they already know who shot me, see this…" He pointed to his jacket pocket. "You're on camera, bitch."
Determined to eliminate any evidence, I promptly shot his camera and then him, ending the immediate threat. Now, the challenge was to uncover the larger conspiracy that had brought him here and potentially placed us all in danger.
I turned back to where Rafe was sitting, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and admiration. He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto him, straddling my legs comfortably on his lap.
With a deft motion, he took the gun from me and tossed it behind him on the bed. The intense moment we had just experienced lingered in the air between us. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”. His hands coming to squeeze my butt. 
"Are you okay?" I asked him, my hands gently resting on his shoulders as I glanced at his deep cut. He nodded in response, and then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
I moved closer to him, my hands snaking around his neck, and we deepened the kiss, finding comfort and solace in each other's embrace amidst the tension and danger that had just unfolded.
I pulled back from our passionate moment and glanced toward the intruder's lifeless body, then back at Rafe. "As much as I want feel you inside me, we have to clean this mess up" I said with a playful smile. Rafe agreed, and he lifted me back up.
I instructed him to go grab an old blanket, and he left to do so. Meanwhile, I began searching the intruder's body for any signs of identification, hoping to uncover some answers to the dangerous situation we had just faced.
I gathered all the personal belongings from the intruder and placed them on the bed. When Rafe returned with an extra-large blanket, I instructed him to turn the intruder on his side so we could slip the blanket underneath him.
Once that was done, he rolled the intruder back over, and I wrapped him up securely. Rafe then carried the bundled intruder downstairs.
As we descended, I asked Rafe, "Do you have any weights and rope?" He nodded and quickly fetched the necessary items from the garage, understanding the need to ensure the intruder remained concealed and secure.
We carried the intruder to the end of the jetty and placed him in the small boat. Driving the boat out into the marsh, we ensured his body was weighted down, ensuring it would sink. It was a somber and grim task that needed to be done.
Returning to the dock, it was already around 1 in the morning. We docked the boat and made our way back to the house. Heading up to Rafe's room, we set about cleaning up the blood, using bleach to remove any traces of the ordeal.
By the time we finished, both of us had blood and chemicals on our shirts.
After cleaning, Rafe turned on the shower. He removed his shirt, walked over to me, and placed a hand around my waist, tugging at my pants.
He leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips, followed by a couple on my neck. With a swift motion, he lifted my top above my head and tossed it onto the floor, igniting a passionate moment between us.
SMUT BELOW......18+
After that, he led me into the bathroom and took off his pants, showing me his rock-hard dick and the well-defined vein lines that ran down to his tip.
I licked my base lip and hauled my fingers down his toned body. He unclipped my bra with one hand while lowering my shorts and panties. He wrapped his arms around me as he led me back to the warm shower.
As I slowly moved my hand down his side to reach his big cock, I pushed my boobs against his chest. A groan left his lips and he kissed me more profound.
I slowly started to fall to my knees and moved my hand faster around his cock. I looked up at him through my lashes and opened my mouth and took his cock into my mouth and started working on him.
He assembled my hair in his grasp and began face fucking me. Hot cum ropes hit my throat as I felt his cock twitch in my mouth. I carried him through his high and swallowed his seed. 
He pulled me back up and kissed my lips tasting himself on me. He massaged my boobs and sucked on my left breast using his other hand to play with my other nibble. Moans left my lips uncontrollably, I threaded my fingers through his hair.
His hand left my breast and trailed down my front coming to toy with my clit. His fingers teased my entrance and inserted one finger in, pumping it in and out. As he moved quickly my fingers dug into his shoulder.
A knot started to form in my stomach, 'I was getting close. He pulled out just as I was a about to cum. “I want you to cum on my face” He said as he made his way down my throbbing pussy.
He hoisted my leg up onto his shoulder and brushed his nose against my clit making me grind my body into his face. He dove his tongue into my wet pussy and began to eat me out.
His tongue made circles and that feeling was coming up again. “Rafe….gonna…..cum” I screamed as I felt myself squirt all over his face. He licked up all my juices and rubbed at my clit again.
The feeling was so intense, I felt my legs slowly start to give way, but he held me up with his strong muscles. He stood back up and stroked himself a few times before inserting himself into me.
He lifted my leg up again to get a better angle. He stretched me out with his huge size. He started slow and then sped up his movements. Pounding into me, all that could be heard was skin slapping and our moans. 
He pressed my back against the wall and lifted me up to hit me at a new and deeper angle. I wrapped my legs around his waist and rolled my body on his. He then let go and turned my body around. He lined himself back up and thrusted into me from behind.
My hands came to land on the shower screen, while his hand started rubbing circles on my clit. My legs started to shake again as I felt my orgasm approaching. He wrapped his strong arm around me and I arched my back and dropped my head back onto his shoulder.
I felt my walls start to clench around is cock and he quickened his pace, leaving me a moaning mess. The shower was hot and steamy and I felt him spill into me, he rode me through my high and then pulled out.
Turning me around he sat down on the bench in the shower, pulling me onto his lap straddling him and I lined myself up with him. 
I rode him like my life depended on it. My boobs bounced out of control and he held on to me to for intense pleasure. I could feel the wetness in-between us starting to leak out. He thrusted up while I sunk back down, he was making me feel so full. “I think this is the best sex I’ve ever had” he said as he kissed me deeper and more passionately. 
PART 2
🔫🔪♥️💦💥🔫🔪♥️💦💥🔫🔪♥️💦💥🔫🔪♥️💦💥🔫🔪♥️💦💥🔫
80 notes · View notes
k0ff1n · 2 years ago
Text
WHY EVERYONE IN THE TWST FANDOM IS A PUSSY AND DOESN'T WRITE ABOUT ORTHO:
First of all, sorry if there are any errors, english is not my first language and I'm still learning it.
Seeing how people reacted to this post I'll add some things first, to at least not be called a pedo:
I'm literally a minor, so please don't call me a pedo because that's not really possible I think
If you were to actually read the post, not because you agree but because you want to complain then you have two options, to not read it at all or to consider the first point and the fact that I too would prefer the people writing about him to imagine a older looking version.
As stated before, if you want to complain pls don't interact
So I suppose that everyone who plays twisted wonderland knows who Ortho is, but in case someone doesn't, here's a little description:
He was and still is Idia Shroud's little brother, he died when he was a child and his body was remade by his brother to somehow "keep him alive".
I know that reading this gives the idea of him still being a child and that, if he was one, writing fanfictions about him would be wrong, so this is why I'll try to explain why having this idea while knowing the full story is kinda stupid.
1: HIS AGE
After saying that he died as a child and was made anew it gives the idea that he's still a child, but he technically isn't.
In the birthday card form the first year of the game, which is almost three years ago at this point, Yuu asks him in the interview what was his best memory from a past birthday party. To this Ortho answers the party that was held when he was five, which was eleven years ago. If you know basic math you should understand that 5+11=16, which makes him as old as the first years. Ok I know, some of you don't understand that being sixteen isn't the same as being five years old but for the sake of this post we'll say that, yes he's still a minor and we shouldn't write romantic stuff about him because bla bla bla (Also I'd like to point out that I'm not talking about writing nsfw stuff about him, just relationship scenarios instead of only platonic ones) but if you consider the year in which the card was released then it means that this August he'll be eighteen, so yeah legal age for stuff.
In case you want to argue about what he says in the story I'll leave the screens of the translation:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
2: HIS MENTAL AGE
Writing this might seem stupid but some of you don't understand it so I'll do it anyway. We said that his body is new, and this applies for his mind too, well kind of. Some of his memories as Ortho Shroud, the one who actually lived, are still inside his head, we know that because Idia somehow put some of them back inside of him to "preserve his little brother". With this said we are left with:
50% old memories
50% all that's known to mankind
We know that in his head he can search everything, you can clearly see that during history lessons and in some of his cards (if I'm not wrong it was a birthday one but I'm not sure which of the two). He talks about how much he likes playing games with other students and that since he can predict everything they'll do they decided to create a handwritten list of moves to use against him. From this we get:
He can know everything from the entire internet, from every site and from every data storage around the world
Can without much trouble go against entire groups of people at once and still win, something that I don't think someone with the mind of a kid can do
Tumblr media Tumblr media
To conclude this first part about his head I'll just say that you can't have the mindset of a child if you know everything, and this applies to him too. 3: HIS PERCEPTION OF HIMSELF
This is still about his mind but with a different point of view. When we finish the sixth chapter of the story Ortho gains a real heart, a real himself we can say. He's finally free from his brother's restrains and he starts to become a real person. The school realizes this too and accepts him as a student, starting from the first year. This might seem obvious but we know that two years before, when him and Idia arrived at the school, he wasn't perceived as a person, he was just a tool, another piece of metal and cables that his brother bought with him. Now having a heart and a mind of his own he still has the knowledge he had before but he can also appreciate things from another prospective, one only a real living being can have. I feel like saying this might not mean much but to put it simply: he arrives at the school and is fourteen, he stays a total robot for another year and then we meet him when he's sixteen. After another year he gains a heart and he's almost an adult and now, one year after he's become a person, he's to become eighteen. He's almost a literal adult, this is what I wanted to say. Another thing that I'd like to point out is the fact that during chapter six he acts a different way when with or without his brother. The "childish" version of him is only visible when he's talking to Idia and that single time that he slips in an annoyed expression, one his brother has probably never seen, he gets asked if there is need for maintenance. His real self is later introduced, he's way more similar to his brother if not worse at some points. Various times he expresses amusement in seeing someone struggle, something that even Idia had never done. We can clearly see that the version of Ortho that we've always seen wasn't the real one but something that his brother remembered about him from their childhood and that he had to take as his only option regarding personality. His real personality is yes, friendly, but not childish in the slightest. The most childish character in the game is probably Kalim lol. Btw these are some screens from one of the cards where be talks about himself and stuff, even before becoming a real person:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
4: HIS BODY
We know he's short, he's 148 cm. Oh wait you want to say that his face almost looks... like the one of a young looking person? Please don't. Seriously, this might mean something if he was the only character in the game with a young looking face but he isn't, we literally got Epel and Riddle a similar design. And oh look, people write about them, even nsfw stuff, but no one complains for some reason. Epel is sixteen, a minor, but no one says anything if someone decides to simply add the "every character here is aged up so everything's fine" thing. Riddle is seventeen, oh look, another minor people don't have a problem writing about. You can clearly see how stupid this is, he's the same age as them, has the same type of design as them but for some reason is treated different from the fandom. Also, to add things to this mix of reasons, his body isn't even human, he's a literal thing made of metal, wires, fans and a heart. Idia could customize him any moment, and maybe in the future he will who knows, but for now this is what we got.
There's also a "problem" with his voice if we want to call it that. Yes, in this case I'll say that he sounds like a kid, but there's a reason. When Idia created him the only voice he has ever heard his little brother speak with was the one of a five years old, we can clearly hear the similarities between Ortho's real voice when he was a kid in chapter six and the one that AI Ortho has. But during chapter six we also hear the voice that he's supposed to have now, and it's not a childlike one, he really sounds like a teenager.
5: THE FINAL (not the dir en grey song) PART
After all these paragraphs I sincerely hope that at least some of you understand how all this doesn't make sense. I know I'm not the only one who thinks this, I know other people with this same idea but at this point no one can really write anything without being called slurs or assuming random things about them. This post was just a simple explanation of how I see this "issue", if we want to call it that.
Also as stated at the start of the post I too would really prefer an older looking version of him, one with the voice we hear in chapter six from his real and current self and not the one that resembles his old one. This said I understand why some of you want to complain about me wanting fantictions about him and this is why I say that if there will ever be some I will only be imagining the "older" version and not the one that we have now in the game.
Thanks for everyone who read till this point and have a good day :)
219 notes · View notes
monsterswithimagines · 3 months ago
Text
Undisclosed Desires - Part 6
Tumblr media
Joe Goldberg x female!Reader
Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.
Words: 845
Masterlist
Saturday can't come soon enough. I feel like this week has lasted an entire year.
Then it's finally Saturday morning. I'm happy to go to work today, because at the end of the morning shift, you'll be waiting for me. My reward for my work. You won't even mind that I won't have time to change out of my usual clothes - it's a deliberate choice on my end, because you like how I look. You told Nadia about it on Twitter just three days ago.
@MoonShadow_: waarom zijn jongens in boekwinkels altijd zo lekker 😭😭
Which translates to: why are boys in bookstores always so hot
I didn’t realize you were thinking this way, (Y/n). If I'd known, maybe I would have made a move already.
Candace wasn't nearly this hard to read.
Candace wouldn't have been worth all this waiting, though.
I'm not ashamed to admit that Candace was a wrong choice. I thought I saw something in her that wanted to be known by me, to be taken care of, but I was wrong. You, on the other hand, are unknown to almost everyone except your dear childhood friend. It must be so lonely. But when you're with me, you won't have to be alone anymore.
Ethan notices I'm distracted today, but he doesn't say anything about it. He's happy to take over the regular customer service duties if it means I'll run up and down the basement stairs carrying heavy books from eight to twelve. Ethan is the kind of guy who swears by a Kindle.
You'd never use a Kindle, would you? I can't imagine it. You buy books way too often to bother about something as asinine as digital reading.
Maybe if I tell you the Kindle is everything that's wrong with modern-day America, you'll laugh and agree with me. But then again, maybe you'll just think I'm a ‘gatekeeping dick’. That's what you called someone on Twitter when they said The Secret History was awful and that only insufferable, snobbish, self-absorbed, classist rich kids would ever think to read this shit. Don't kill me, (Y/n), but I kind of agree with the guy. One day you'll see my side.
I kind of agree with you too, though: the world needs to learn how to read again, it doesn't matter where they start.
I used to judge people for what they bought at Mooney's, but now I don’t anymore. At least they're reading. You're making me a better person that way. You're making me realize that even if people are just reading whatever bullshit they saw on TikTok, at least they're reading.
It's one pm, and you're late. I'm not too upset about it, though. You texted me about an hour ago.
YOU: omigod joe!!!
YOU: my boss is super pissed i forgot to send a client this important email
YOU: i gotta fix my mistake i might be like
YOU: 15 mins late
ME: Don't worry. Take your time.
YOU: 😅
I didn't reply to your smiley. What on earth am I meant to say to a picture of a smiling face? Besides, a smiley isn't worth nearly as much as your actual smile.
And there you are.
Only ten minutes late. It could have been worse.
You look flushed like maybe you ran here, and your hair is a mess so you've covered it with a beanie again, but you also look so happy to see me. I'm happy to see you, too.
You hug me.
“I'm so sorry,” you say. I'm not sure what you're apologising for, because I'm still trying to get over the fact that you hugged me. “I've had such a crazy morning.”
“You're not even that late,” I assure you, which is true. Candace used to be hours late, sometimes. Sometimes she didn't show up at all. “Do you mind giving me a minute? I want to wash my hands and stuff.”
I don't need a minute. I've been ready to leave for a while now. But I think you might need some time, and I can tell you won't ask for it.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “No problem.”
So I turn and I head to the bathroom. This means leaving you alone with Ethan, which may be risky. Ethan might say something stupid, or something about me. But then again, I don't think he'd ruin ‘getting some tail’ for me.
In the bathroom, I wash my hands and check my hair. I look how I always do after a shift at Mooney's, but I think that's fine.
You look beautiful, (Y/n). It's too soon to tell you something like that, but you do.
I emerge. You look calmer now. You're waiting in the office - Ethan must have let you in - sitting with your hands behind your head and your feet on the table. Stretched like that, I can see a bit of the skin above your jean shorts.
It's deliberate. You're taunting me.
“Hey,” you say. “All ready?”
You're wearing make-up. You don't usually wear make-up.
“All ready,” I agree.
18 notes · View notes
quitealotofsodapop · 1 year ago
Text
Answering all three Asks I have about The True Immortal Compliant in "The Monkey King and the Infant" au:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Answering asks from @justweirddino and @kyliecatqueen + an anonymous;
Pretty much yeah; the whole Monkie Gang only start out barely tolerating True Immortal Compliant/TIC/Ruyi. Wukong (+ most characters who know about the incident) thinks he's a scumbag for extorting the Kingdom of Women all those years ago. But DBK really wants to see his little brother again (the bull has been locked up for hundreds of years) and begs for them to be at least polite when he visits.
TIC is like that creepy mega-right-wing uncle that you have to put up with at thanksgiving and/or christmas. Has really harsh, outdated opinions on womens health. Makes dirty jokes at others expense. But since he's a guest, you don't want to be rude and call him out. In general a dinner with him is more painful than the furnace in SWK's opinion.
After its over Shadowpeach are like; "Lets never speak to him again." "Agreed".
Then a couple of years pass and Spicynoodles are expecting their first baby(s). Uncle TIC makes himself known. At first DBK and Red Son believe he's emerged to establish contact with his future grand-niblings. PIF is suspicious; she knows her brother-in-law still has access to that Spring Water, and that TIC has been enjoying his new life of luxury in the Underworld...
Red Son is like the little kid who used to think his uncle was cool, then as he got older realized that a lot of stuff was red-flags. He makes sure not to give MK/Xiaotian any drink provided by TIC.
It comes to a head when TIC invites the whole Spicynoodle fam + grandparents to his palace in the Underworld in the lead up to the Spicynoodle wedding. The volcanic, super-hot Demon Bull Palace in the Underworld.
At dinner there's nothing but wine/baijiu to drink. Luckily most of the fam packed their own supply of water/iced tea for the journey and give that to MK to drink so he isn't dying of thirst. The micro-aggression does not go unnoticed however.
Later on in the night, MK gets out of bed to stretch his legs (babies making a ruckus), only to be summoned by TIC sitting in the drawing room. A platter holding a pitcher of water, two full glasses, and wedges of lemon just sitting there on the table.
TIC: "Why don't you sit with me and drink? I'm so sorry I'd forgotten your... limitation during dinner." MK: "Um... it's no problem really. I'll sit for a bit. Kids were just keeping me awake is all."
A few moment of awkward convo pass. @justweirddino describes the perfect proceeding scenario. MK is just swirling his glass of water, glaring into it as TIC sits with his own empty glass.
TIC: "You're not drinking." MK: "You poured the glasses before I came in. I didn't see you pour yours." TIC: *Pupils dilate a little but tries not to show any emotion* MK: *pours half the contents of his into TIC's own glass* "It wouldn't be fair to drink mine with yours empty. Drink up!" TIC: *hand shaking as he takes his glass. hesistates taking a sip.* MK, still as brightly as before: "The Demon Bull Family has such a rich history! I really can't help looking into it, seeing how I'm gonna be part of the family really soon!" TIC: *Sweats* MK: "And of course I love hearing how our families interacted during my dad's pilgrimage. Including a really funny chapter involving the Kingdom of Women." TIC: *oh shit reaction* MK, smile turning devious: "You really thought I was that stupid did you?" *lets out the loudest Help!/Danger! chirp he can* Outside the drawing room: *frantic boss music starts playing and getting closer*
TIC barely makes it out of the room alive.
Fun fact about the Spring Water. Half a bowl/goblet is sufficient to cure a pregnancy. But more than that? According to the old woman in Journey to the West that helped Zhu Bajie and Tripitaka; "Any more will dissolve your insides."
Wukong helpfully provides the above knowledge and proceeds to nearly strangle TIC to death.
It wasn't just a simple "remove future heirs"-plan.
It was also a "remove nephew's spouse"-plan.
Once the group learns that last bit, Red Son has to be held back by multiple family members/bull clones to stop him from delivering his Uncle straight to The 10 Kings themselves.
As you can imagine, this was the final straw for DBK. He can deal with a jerk of a little brother - but for his own flesh and blood to try and murder his future son-in-law and unborn grandbabies? Zero contact immediately. Thank you for dinner, never speak to us again or we will destroy you.
Bonus horror/crime idea of TIC;
Princess Iron Fan is comforting MK as TIC is being dragged away to answer for his crimes. She smells the glass and winces.
PIF: "Urgh. No wonder you noticed it. It smells so bitter. Almost like..." PIF: *Drops the glass, shattering it on the ground. Hands clutching her mouth as she remembers the times in the far past when she and DBK had tried for children. A servant always bringing her a familiarly-foul smelling tea when the queen became "nauseous/unwell".* MK, immediately worried: "Yuemu! [mother-in-law] Are you ok?" PIF: "...I'm going to kill him." *wind teleports out of there* MK: *is left confused, but understands her anger*
So yeah, when TIC shows up he doesn't escape post-S4 alive.
62 notes · View notes
chloe-spade · 7 days ago
Text
Everlasting Love Prologue:This is my Idea
Long ago, there was a king who was blessed with a beautiful young baby that he named Vil. Vil was celebrated as the first child of King Eric, and he was loved by many, except for one man, a man named Divus Crewel, a man who was known for his wicked magic. One day, during the celebration, Divus tried to take the throne with magic but was apprehended by the guards and was banned. Though many claimed that Eric's kind heart would cause a problem in the future, Eric was just happy that his young son was safe from the awful wizard's hands.
Finally, an official ball was held in celebration of the young prince.
Among the esteemed guests were the royal family of the AfterGlow Savanna, a kingdom from a faraway land. The lovely queen, Ashanti, and her sons, Prince Farena and the young Prince Leona, added a touch of warmth and unity to the grand celebration.
"Go on, Leona," Ashanti urged, pushing Leona forward. "You do have a gift for the young prince, don't you?"
Leona, though only three years old then, presented a silver locket with a swan engraved onto it, watching Vil giggle and trying to reach for it.
King Eric and Queen Ashanti looked at each other, their eyes lighting up at the idea that could potentially shape their children's future. They decided that Leona and Vil would be wedded as soon as they reached the appropriate age, a decision that filled the air with anticipation and excitement.
It started when Vil was five years old, and they went to the Kingdom of the AfterGlow Savana. Vil was somewhat apprehensive but figured he would give this thing a chance, considering he already had a slight crush on Leona.
"Ah, look, our guests have arrived," Ashanti announced. "Come now, Leona, we must greet our guest.
"Come, Vil," Eric grinned, helping Vil off his horse.
Vil huffed as Eric pulled his hand towards Leona and Ashanti.
"It's a pleasure to meet you once again, Queen Ashanti," spoke Eric. "It's incredibly nice that you have invited to stay at your kingdom for the entire summer."
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, King Eric," Ashanti laughed. "I hope you do remember my youngest son, Leona."
"I have, and this is my son, Vil. A pleasure, right, Vil?"
Vil glared from behind his father, looked at Leona, and huffed.
"Vil, introduce yourself," Eric urges.
Vil walked forward and bowed, "I am Prince Vil."
"Prince Leona," the lion huffed.
The two stared at each other, already loathing the summer ahead.
🦁
I can't believe I'm stuck with her all summer
I bet she doesn't wrestle, hunt, or box
🦁
With Ashanti's urging, Leona kissed Vil's hand, resulting in a slap and an annoyed young boy. Vil was wiping his hand against his pants before shaking his fist at Leona, which surprised Leona.
🦁
He looks conceited
What a total bummer
If I get lucky, I'll get chicken pox
🦢
Despite Vil and Leona going in different directions, they both pushed back towards each other. Now annoyed, they glared back. They didn't want to be here, and they knew it.
🦢
So happy you could come
So happy to be here
How I'd like to run
This is not my idea
This isn't my idea
Of fun!
🦢
Later that day, Leona teases Vil too far, so Vil chases Leona with a wooden sword. The parents talked with each other, none the wiser, about the attack that Vil was about to make against Leona.
🦢
The children seem to get along quite nicely
We'll join our lands if this arrangement clicks
My dear King Eric, that's my point precisely
It's such good parenting
And politics
So happy we agree
I think we've got a deal
Leona's quite a catch
🦁
Eric gasped as he grabbed Vil before he managed to wail a hit at Leona, who was sticking out his tongue at Vil behind Ashanti. Both parents gulped and chuckled at each other.
🦁
This is my idea
This is my idea
Of a match!
🦢
"Enough, both of you!" Ashanti groaned.
Vil was now 12 years old and looked down at his father and the carriage behind him, packing for the summer trip to the Afterglow Savana. Vil covered his ears, annoyed that he had to go again.
🦢
Good heavens, child, don't dawdle
We can't keep Leona waiting
I haven't packed or washed my hair
And father, I get seasick
🦢
Eric sighed as Vil closed the blinds of his room.
Queen Ashanti opened the door and was appalled by the arrow that hit a badly drawn picture of Vil.
🦢
They soon will be arriving
Is that respect you're showing?
You make me kiss her hand again
I swear I'm gonna be sick
🦁
Vil and Eric arrived at the docks, and Vil gasped as a nearby tomato almost hit him. He turned to glare at Leona and his new friend, Ruggie, laughing with each other.
Vil sat by his father, glaring at the boys as they rode to the castle.
🦢
One day Prince Leona will be his intended
Splendid!
🦁
As they enjoyed the afternoon, they watched Leona and Ruggie run away from Vil, who was still upset about the pranks they had played on him but also tried to be friendly per his father's request.
🦁
We've tried all summer but we just can't lose him
🦁
"Hey, fellas, wait up!"
Ruggie pulled Leona onto the rail, sliding down and running away from Vil. "Quick, put on some speed!"
🦁
When picking teams
Or friends
I never choose her
You think she'd take a hint and learn to read
🦢
Vil looked up at the treehouse and the massive sign that said, "No Herbivores," which annoyed him. He was offended that this had to come to this.
🦢
This really isn't fair
We really couldn't care
Boys, it's all or none
🦢
Vil kicked the pole beneath the treehouse, and the treehouse collapsed, injuring Leona, Ruggie, and Vil.
They spent the rest of the vacation confined to their rooms. Once they had left, Vil huffed as he and Eric rode away, and Leona and Ruggie waved them off.
🦢
This is not my idea
This isn't my idea
Of fun!
🦢
Going into 15, Vil knew that summer was close approaching. He rested and read at the library to clear his head, ignoring the people around him. He was overjoyed about Vil and Leona's future.
🦢
Long before they met
Leona and Vil
Were destined to be wedded
However, anyone could see
The only point on which they didn't disagree
Was that the very thought of summertime
Was dreaded
🦁
When visiting, Vil couldn't help but imagine being a king of his kingdom, even forcing Leona and Ruggie to play along with him, much to their dismay. Leona's way of fighting back was to dress as a monster to scare the queen and kidnap her, and hearing Vil's anguish made Leona feel much better.
🦁
She tries to talk me into playing dress-up
She's always flirting with the castle guards
🦁
Leona felt his ears drop as Vil laughed at a nearby guard's joke, no matter how bad they were. Ruggie could only chuckle as he teased Leona about his new crush.
🦁
I think you really sort of like him, 'fess up
I'd like hin better if he'd lose at cards
Four sevens and a ten
🦁
Leona's eyes went to Ruggie, who was behind Vil, marking the numbers of Vil's cards. Leona figured if this was how to mastermind the game so he could finally win one, so be it. This is a game of wits, after all.
🦁
I think I've won again
Every time he's won
This is my idea
This isn't my idea
Of fun!
We need a royal wedding
I'd love to be invited
At least we'll get a holiday to rest our ploughs and axes
🦢
During the carriage ride back to King Eric's boat, Vil waved at the villagers while Leona spent most of his time teasing Vil. Vil knew Leona was making faces behind his back, but Vil couldn't care less about that. He just waved at the villagers until he was at the docks.
As Vil and King Eric departed, a tomato flew onto Leona's face, making Ruggie laugh.
Leona glared to see Vil, grinning like a cat, throwing a slingshot into the ocean.
"…Well played."
🦢
Someday these two will marry
Two lands will be united
And with some luck their marriage may result in lower taxes
🦢
"What if Vil doesn't go for the merger?" King Eric wrote in his letter, now nervous as Vil had recently turned eighteen.
"Urge him!" Queen Ashanti's letter screamed at him.
Vil and Leona had had enough of ignoring their father and mother about getting ready. A week from now, June 1st, was the day they had to meet again and do the same routine of ignoring, fighting, and arguing with each other. They knew it would never change.
🦢
For as long as I remember
We've been told we'd someday wed
Every June until September
🦢
Leona struggles as Ashanti pushes him toward the ballroom, where he is supposed to meet with Vil. Meanwhile, Vil is grabbed by his arms and refuses to leave his carriage to meet Leona, who is now upset about being there again.
🦁
All their pushing and annoying hints
I've got bruises with their fingerprints
🦢
Both were pushed into the ballroom, facing away. They didn't even know what to do; now, they were officially alone.
🦁
I can do much better, I am sure
He's so immature
🦢
As they slowly turn, Vil felt a tinge in his heart. But a good tinge, a feeling that told him to walk closer, and lucky for him, Leona did the same, reaching for Vil's hand. Leona's hands were soft and delicate for the first time in his life, holding Vil's with care and love. It made Vil's heartbeat. They stared, and Vil melted, seeing Leona's smile, a genuine one.
🦢
I see him smiling and my knees start buckling
I see inside him and my doubts are gone
He started out as such an ugly duckling
And somehow suddenly became a swan
🦁
Vil pulled back and bowed to Leona—a proper one, which he never did, even when meeting with Leona. It was an adequate bow to show that Vil was ready to keep the past behind him. He was surprised to see that Leona was also bowing back to him; their feelings were mutual.
🦢
So happy to be here
Till now, I never knew
It is you I've been dreaming of
This is my idea
This is my idea
🦢
Everyone rushed in, and music filled the air as Leona and Vil's hands met again, eyes only locking with each other, ignoring the room and everyone around them.
🦢
What a good idea; it's such a charming and romantic notion
This is my idea
This is my idea
Such a good idea
Such a good idea
What a good idea
Such a powerful and magic notion
This is exactly my idea of love.
🦢
Vil and Leona danced in the ballroom, their eyes locking. Leona couldn't help but keep Vil close, and Vil's hand reached for his shoulder. They were dancing like they had been dancing for years, but it was the first, and they knew it wouldn't be the last dance.
🦢
This is my idea
This is my idea
This is my idea of love
🦁🦢
As the music ended, they kissed. It had been a long time coming, but they wanted it, needed it, and finally got it.
"I love you," they whispered to each other, and the others cheered.
"So," teased Ashanti. "Will there be a wedding?"
"Yes, of course," Vil smiled. "A wedding shall be in order. But I hope not to soon."
"Me neither," Leona chuckles. "I still treasure my beauty sleep afterall."
"Spledid!" King Eric cheered. "The wedding will be held at our kingdom at the end of next summer! A perfect way to finally combine our lovely kingdoms."
The people cheered at the king's words, but the moment ended as lightning flashed. A man appeared, sitting on Ashanti's throne, sipping on wine. He looked out of it but still had a wicked smile.
"Oh, congratulations, my dear king," the man chuckled, clapping his hands. "Such a beautiful announcement. I would've cried if I hadn't lost my tears years ago. But again, you have my congrats. But I do have some… unfortunate news."
"Explain who are you now!" Vil demanded. "As far as I am concerned, you are not welcomed here."
"Now, Vil, is that how you talk to your actual future husband?"
"Husband? You?" Leona scoffed.
"Exactly, I never met you in my entire life," Vil snarled.
"You are correct," Crewel chuckles. "But you can see that the queen barely spoke a word about me."
"What does my late wife has anything to with this?" Eric pondered.
"She agreed to marry me when we first met. She was a mere princess back then, oh so beautiful and breathtaking that my father paid for her hand in marriage to me," Crewel explained. "But, poor me, she ran off on the night of our wedding, and years later, I heard she married good ole King Eric!"
"And to think I trust you to be most trusted advisor," Eric gasped.
"That was a cover! I had to get close to her again, even if she was tied down, and it worked. That's not all! I knew, I knew that if I didn't marry her, no one would." Crewel chuckles. "But I am getting ahead of myself. Your son is the only person to match Lorelei's beauty, and I was enamored when I saw him arriving at the castle today. I couldn't help but want to ask."
"And my answer is no!" Vil snapped.
"Get out or I will fight you myself," Leona threatened, drawing his sword.
"Ah, fine," Crewel grinned. "But you all should watch your back. You don't know what I am planning."
With a final laugh, he disappeared into a puff of red smoke, startling others.
"Father, what is the meaning of this?" Vil demanded his father.
"Vil, it was a long story," Eric sighed. "Crewel was my personal advisor and famed mage of the town. One day, he tried to use the Forbidden Arts to overthrow me and the kingdom. I, even though I regret it now, did not kill him. I spared him and banished him from the kingdom. We have lived peacefully ever since I have banished him."
"And now he's back," Leona snarled. "Your highness, I can't believe you didn't have a spine. That man have threatened your kingdom and you have simply left him live."
"I know," sighed Eric. "I hate that too, Leona. I wish I had done what my people wanted me to do. I was a coward to my own people."
"…You did what thought was right at the time," Ashanti spoke. "Unlike us, you do not want blood on your hands. Banishments are simply a way to save your kingdom."
"What do we do?"
"Well," Ashanti cleared her throat. "Guards! Make sure every angle of this castle is protected, and if you see anything related to magic, tell us immediately!"
"Yes, Ma'am!"
Ashanti sighed. "All of this before Farena comes back after his vacation. Oh, how will I cope?"
🦁
"Spending my night calculating a map of the kingdom, was not on my fortune card today," Ruggie yawned.
"Believe me, you are the only one who thinks that," Kifaj groaned. "Now quit your whining. If you laze about now, Crewel will certainly capture Vil if we are now lazy."
"He has a point," Leona sighed. "We already have all our guards surrounding the perimeter, Vil in his guest room, with a guard and a guard outside the window. We also have guards by the docks and by every boarder of the kingdom. Routine checks are also permitted. Who knows when at any time during his summer that he'll strike."
"You have all this planned out," Ruggie groaned. "Alright, how about defenses?"
"Arrows shot at the ready, Mages around us to strike and alert us if they see any unsual activity." Leona answered.
"…Really planned out."
"My word, I have taught you well," Kifaj chuckled.
Ruggie shrugged and nibbled on a late-night pastry. "So, what do you know about his Crewel guy anyway?"
"A mage," Leona spoke up. "Very powerful enough to be able to use it to maniplulate a lot of people. Some rumors say he can transform into anything he wants, so everyone is not safe in this palace, even if they aren't disguised or not."
"He can do much more, but without his forbidden arts, he's almost practically nothing," Kifaj explained. "But those are hidden within the depths of King Eric's castle, and he didn't even tell me where. And I've known that man since you guys are children. But that doesn't stop him from getting away with anything."
"Pretty much," Ruggie sighed. "Well, I already contacted people from below, and it's only a matter of time that someone would tell us that a mysterious sight come forth."
A bump at the window made everyone jump; a mere parrot tilted his head.
"How did you get here?" Ruggie chuckles, "And I thought parrots were in the Scadling Sands."
"….I thought so too," Leona mumbled, walking closer to the window. "Why is one here?"
"Perhaps migration?"
"In the summertime?" Kijaf mumbled.
Leona sighed and shooed the parrot away. "Pay it no mind, we have more important things to discuss."
🦢
Vil groaned. He was trying to relax and read in his room, but it wasn't working to calm his senses, and he hated this dread he felt. Vil didn't mind that he was protected and was stuck in his room for the whole night until they found a plan to find Crewel, but this didn't make him feel any better.
Vil wished he knew why his father never told him about Crewel and his past with his mother, whom he barely knew. What other secrets did his father keep from him?
Vil got up and walked towards the window, looking down at the landscape. Despite his angry memories of the kingdom, it was oddly beautiful. But something caught his eye.
It was Eric on his horse, riding away from the castle.
Vil sighed and knew that if this was the only way to get the answers, he might force them out of his father.
Vil looked around, quickly left his room, grabbed his horse from the stables, and rushed out to follow his father.
"Father!" He cried out/
"Vil?!" Eric gasped, looking behind him. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to ask you the same thing," Vil snarled. "But in truth, I want to know why."
"Why what?"
"Why you never told me about this man until now?" Vil pondered. "Why did it take that man appearing for you to tell me, us, the truth? Why did you never tell me?"
"Because that man," Eric paused. "Because he murdered your mother. During the very last months of her pregnancy with you, she started to get very ill, and no one knew why or how to cure her, and by the time you were born…she was gone, and he was captured as the culprit. But I could not kill him, Lorelei probaly wouldn't want me to so I didn't, so I just banished him, to never show his face in my kingdom again. And he didn't..until now."
"And mother?"
"She never told me she knew him." Eric sighed. "Pribably just to save me the jealousy? I may never know, but Crewel is my responsibilty and I need to deal with it once and for all."
"Alone?"
"I can't fathom the guilt of losing you or AfterGlow Savana because of me and my weak heart."
"Father.."
"Go back, Vil, you'll be much safer back at the castle than with me," Eric ordered.
Vil nodded and turned away, hearing his father's horse trot away. Vil sighed in relief, but he had gotten the answers he wanted, so he must turn back before anyone notices that he is missing. As he rode away, a terrifying screech echoed throughout the desert, frightening Vil.
But he didn't stay as he forced his horse to run away, hearing the screeching grow closer to him. But Vil kept riding and never looking back. It was in vain when two gruesome large claws grabbed onto Vil's shoulders and forced him up away from his horse and high in the air.
"Let go of me, you foul beast!" Vil cried, shaking away, but the monster's claws tightened around his shoulders every time he did.
Vil screamed more and continued to struggle, watching as the kingdom's view grew much more distant. He found himself in the familiar, lush areas of his kingdom. At the journey's end, he felt the claws loosen and drop him into a nearby pond, Vil splashing as he dived down.
Vil burst out of the water, gasping for air. He swam to nearby land, coughing.
"Even when you are drenched in water, you are so beautiful," Crewel complimented as Vil crawled onto the land.
"What did you do?"
"What I could to finally you to myself," Crewel grinned. "No ones knows where you are, not even that lazy prince you call a fiance."
"Don't you dare-"
"Ah,ah, ah," Crewel grinned. "Don't worry, as long as you are loyal to me, no one will get hurt. But, oh, if I turn my back on you, you'll escape, and I can't have that, no, no."
Vil groaned, trying to get up, but felt a tinge of pain.
"What should I do with you? Oh, I know exactly what I should do…but I need an audiance."
Crewel grinned as he snapped his fingers, and some animals appeared: a peacock, a deer, and a canary, who did not look like they wanted to be here. But Crewel did not care and grinned as his hand glowed a clear blue and white.
Vil gasped as the water underneath him began to surround him, and he felt his body change into something different. He felt submerged in the water, and once he flew high into the sky, he realized what he had become.
A swan, a prisoner of the pond.
"Oh, don't feel down, Vil," Crewel laughed. "Tis is only until the moon's reflection, like my dear other…shall I say, friends?"
"….You..!!"
"Ah, wait for tomorrow," Crewel grinned. "I must talk to you when you are human, and trust me, we will talk."
Vil snarled as Crewel walked away. But alas, he could do nothing but to stay with the others in the pond, away from everything he once knew.
Away from Leona. Away from his father.
Away from everyone he cared about.
6 notes · View notes
nientedenada · 1 year ago
Text
Why the Altmeri Commentary on Talos is Important to Lore Discussion (Even if It Isn't the Thalmor's End Goal) 
Originally posted on r/teslore three years ago. To be clear, important in this context means if you're trying to guess where TES might go in the future. And as the years go by, and we now have an almost complete turn-over of developers at Bethesda, it may be less relevant. Still, the new developers will have all these old ideas to rummage through.
This begins with a split among fans, though I don't think it has to be a nasty split. There is a very strong opinion in /r/teslore that Out-of-Game texts are valid if you want them to be, if you find them interesting enough for your Tamriel. And there's another very strong opinion that only official lore is really valid for theorizing. To be completely honest, we all probably dabble in one or the other at different times. Sometimes we are more creative and speculatory about Tamriel, other times we are arguing out the Lowest Common Denominator of agreed-upon lore. (It's never actually agreed upon, but that's part of the fun.)
But there's a third possibility: examining Out of Game texts for the perspective they can give us on In-game lore. A really good example of how this works would be the document: On the Nords' Totem Religion. It was a design document for Skyrim which was not incorporated into the game directly. However, the document gives a lot of insight into the little we do see in Skyrim of the ancient Nord religion. It is useful in interpreting the game itself.
It's also useful for going forward. When ESO returned to Skyrim this year, we could bet that the devs would be taking a closer look at the local religion, as they had in Elsweyr last year. And we could also guess that they might turn to that unofficial Skyrim design document which best explained the original ideas for the Nord religion. As of a few weeks ago, much of the Totem Religion document's lore has been added to the official lore as in-game books in ESO.
The totem religion document is as uncontroversial example of this process as you can find. Most everyone in lore circles has regarded it as a very useful document. You won't find that agreement about all OOG unofficial writings. But I'd like to make the argument for why the Altmeri Commentary on Talos is worth knowing and discussing even if you don't end up thinking it's true.
So, I'll begin with quoting the whole thing. It's pretty short.
What appears to be an Altmeri commentary on Talos To kill Man is to reach Heaven, from where we came before the Doom Drum's iniquity. When we accomplish this, we can escape the mockery and long shame of the Material Prison. To achieve this goal, we must: 1) Erase the Upstart Talos from the mythic. His presence fortifies the Wheel of the Convention, and binds our souls to this plane. 2) Remove Man not just from the world, but from the Pattern of Possibility, so that the very idea of them can be forgotten and thereby never again repeated. 3) With Talos and the Sons of Talos removed, the Dragon will become ours to unbind. The world of mortals will be over. The Dragon will uncoil his hold on the stagnancy of linear time and move as Free Serpent again, moving through the Aether without measure or burden, spilling time along the innumerable roads we once travelled. And with that we will regain the mantle of the imperishable spirit.
What it doesn't say: Nowhere does it say it's a Thalmor document. Nowhere does it mention the Towers. Those two points are pretty well-known in lore circles, but they come up enough to make it worthwhile to point out.
Second thing to notice: its date.
Submitted by Lady N on Sun, 09/19/2010 - 19:53 Obscure texts Author: Michael Kirkbride Librarian Comment: Many of these are in-character snippets taken from various forum posts.
It doesn't have an exact date; the old forums have been deleted. But we do see that it was re-posted on the Imperial Library on 09/19/2010, the year before Skyrim came out. This important detail is glossed over in a lot of the discussion of its relevance. It is not a document written after Skyrim trying to put a creative spin on some details in-game. It's a document published before Skyrim came out, and hence a window on the discussions that were going on in the development of Skyrim. We need to look at the stuff in Skyrim with the question: Does the Altmeri commentary shed any light on what's going on here?
Well, the fact that the Altmeri Commentary suggests that Talos needs to be erased from the mythic makes it very relevant. Maybe this is not the reason for the Thalmor's Talos ban in the game that eventually was released. But it's evidence that during the development of Skyrim, the reason was being kicked around by someone in discussions with the devs. It's that context that finally informs the two lines in-game that might refer back to the Commentary.
The first and most often quoted is Ancano's boast:
You think I can't destroy you? The power to unmake the world at my fingertips, and you think you can do anything about it?
It's pointed out that he can simply be boasting of his power there, without any reference to a supposed greater plan. And yes, that's true. But remember, we aren't interpreting that line in a vacuum. There was a development-related post that brought up a fanatical Altmer idea of unmaking the world before Skyrim, and it's just a coincidence that a fanatic Thalmor member boasts of having the power to do so in the game? These things have nothing to do with each other?
And then there is the other line from Esbern which I think is even more significant.
I don't suppose they want the world to end any more than we do. Or at least, they'd prefer it to end on their terms.
Esbern's statement does not confirm this is the Thalmor's plan. What it does is confirm that the idea this is the Thalmor's plan exists in-universe. And Esbern is not some random conspiracist; he's a lore-master. Dragons were his hobby but we also know from his dossier that the Thalmor consider him responsible for two of the most damaging operations on Dominion soil. He knows his stuff when it comes to the Thalmor. His opinion may be affected by paranoia, he may not even hold the opinion very strongly (suggested by how he corrects himself there), but he is not some random guy in the pub with a conspiracy theory about the Thalmor. If it's a conspiracy theory, it's an important one in-universe.
So, we have a timeline that suggests the Commentary is important, and two references in the game of Skyrim to the idea presented in the Commentary. The references are independent, coming from ideological enemies, Ancano and Esbern. I'd say that makes a very strong case for the Commentary's ideology existing within the universe.
If this concept exists within the universe, the Commentary is important even if it does not represent the Thalmor's ultimate goal accurately.
But where does one go with that? With Michael Kirkbride's historic and ongoing influence on the TES franchise, elements of the Commentary are quite likely to make it into future games. On the other hand, the Commentary may be a window on an idea in development that was tossed around and ultimately abandoned. Maybe it's not Thalmor belief, really. It could even be Blades propaganda. Maybe Ancano believes in it, but he's actually a fanatic who's out of step with the Thalmor in general. etc. etc. etc.
Acknowledging that an Out-of-Game source is relevant does not mean accepting it as the Truth Bound To Be Revealed by TES VI. TES fandom has had enough of that over-certainty already. I think we've all met someone who takes some random developer's post as The Gospel Truth that cannot be questioned. That's frustrating, for sure. But let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater. It doesn't make sense to ignore it completely in discussions about the Thalmor's ultimate goal. There are enough sources to make it worth looking at, both inside and outside the universe.
This post was about the relevance of the Commentary, but if you're interested in how the Commentary's ideology could function within the Thalmor, I can never recommend enough this old /r/teslore post: Analyzing the Altmeri Commentary on Talos.
Additional reply in comments: I thought I'd hedged enough on my statement. I won't claim Esbern as an expert on the Thalmor's ontological goals, although he definitely is more knowledgable about the Thalmor than the random guy at the pub. I do think, however, that his statement confirms that some people within the universe think this is the Thalmor's end goal. I see his statement there as he's not certain himself of it.
In the comments of the original post, a user who has since deleted their account posted a very interesting timeline of the development under discussion. I also recommend this discussion with Misticsan about the post and whether fans give the Commentary undue importance in contrast to other sources on the Thalmor.
This was only the beginning of a very involved journey into the weird fandom status of the Altmeri Commentary and the Towers Theory. It's a lengthy saga, and I've put off formatting it for tumblr but I do mean to eventually copy all the teslore posts over here.
35 notes · View notes
goldenamaranthe-blog · 1 year ago
Note
Okay, now I'm intrigued to see where the Archery and Warlock AU goes.
I wonder when they really read the contract that they just agreed they realized they married or something besides making a typical Warlock pact.
Hmmmm.... Fey are known for being sneaky. Queen of the Fey Kali intervention, anyone? Also, forgive me for taking the shortcuts here with the names.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Archfey!Blake: (heavily pregnant, and sitting in a plush chair in a cottage tucked away in the middle of the forest as she embroiders a little emblem on a baby blanket)
Warlock!Yang: Hey, Babe! I'm going to run to town quick and pick up a few things. Do you need anything?
Blake: (shakes head) No, I'm good. Thank you though.
Yang: Alright, if you say so. I'll be back in a couple of hours.
Blake: Um, actually-!
Yang: I'll pickup two sweetrolls, three lavender dumplings, and see what the fish market has to make some salmon steaks tonight.
Blake: (blushes) You know me too well.
Yang: (exits the cottage)
Blake: (waits until the sound of footprints disappear and quickly pulls out the contract) What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What is going on?! (reads contract and finds a fine print)
Blake: (growls and blasts a summoning spell at another chair)
Queen of the Fey Kali: (appears in the chair while reading and sipping tea) Oh, hello, dear. How are you?
Blake: (holds up contract) What the seven hells is this?!
Kali: What? You were crushing over that human ever since she accidentally stepped in the Fey Circle two years ago! I just thought I'd help push things along!
Blake: Forcefully binding us in a contract is entrapment, Mom! I can't allow this contract to continue in good faith if it's influencing Yang's emotions!
Kali: Oh, dear, no! I wouldn't go that far. The spell just makes you two a married couple in the eyes of the Fey. Your emotions are your own. I assure you.
Blake: ......Oh......
Kali: (smirks) So, how's my little grandbaby doing?
53 notes · View notes
jerseyshoresy · 5 months ago
Text
I Pucking Love You
ANGST, FLUFF
Request for @laserotters ! Reader joins beer league hockey team--never having played the sport. Reilly and Jonesy lend their support, but will it be enough to impress Coach and capture his heart?
Coach x gn!reader
Warnings: language, some suggestive conversation
"What the fuck was I thinking?"
You muttered under your breath as you heard the slams of bodies against glass, your heart plummeting. This was a beer league, right? Why was everyone being so aggressive right now? You were watching your first game as a real hockey player unfold from the bench, not yet being put on the ice due to being the newest member of the team. You were tense as you fiddled with the laces of your skates, making sure they were tight for whenever you were sent into the game. You hadn't told anyone you were a complete rookie when you eagerly agreed to joined the league, your mouth and heart taking over the reigns when your head should've won the battle to keep you quiet. Instead, you had managed to make a complete fool of yourself in a matter of a few days and screw up the one good thing you had going for you. You took another nervous sip of your beer as your eyes scanned the players' bench, the doorways, the crowd for one person in particular—Coach.
The whole reason why you were here in the first place.
But you didn't know if he was going to show up to play, like he was supposed to, or watch from the sidelines and support you, like you wanted him to, after everything that had transpired yesterday. You wished with all your might that Coach believed in you as much as he once said he did.
Your team coach's voice pulled you out of your daydreams. "Y/n! You're going! Get in there!"
You gulped as you gripped your hockey stick tight, your knuckles pulsating under your gloves.
Here goes nothing.
“We’re looking for players for our beer league hockey team. You in?”
Coach had approached you three weeks ago while you were in MoDean’s, hanging out with your friends Jonesy and Reilly.
You almost choked on your drink in surprise but tried to hide it as quickly as possible. "Who? Me?"
You were a bumbling, lovesick mess when Coach spoke with you, walked near you, or even just looked your way. You'd had the biggest crush on the man for years but never wanted to make a move in case he wasn't over the death of his ex wife, Barb, yet. You would much rather yearn from afar than ever risk disrespecting him on accident. However, your refusal to admit your feelings was causing you to be on edge every time Coach was around, making you an anxious wreck.
"Yes, you," Coach said expectantly. "These two idiots are already signed up but we're looking for more talent. I'd love to get you on the ice if you're available."
"O-oh! Yes, sure! I love hockey," you said, your words tumbling from your throat. "When do we start?"
"Perfect! First game is in three weeks. There's practices Saturday and Sunday afternoons, but they aren't mandatory. It's a beer league so you can rely on any hockey skills you've learned from the past and you'll do fine." He clapped you on the shoulder and you tried your best to not keel over from his warm touch.
"Can't wait to see you in the barn, y/n."
"Right, yes, of course. Sounds great," you said as enthusiastically as possible, Coach giving you a small smile before walking away. Reilly and Jonesy exchanged glances with each other before turning their attention toward you, confused looks on their faces.
"Y/n... you've never played hockey," said Reilly.
"You've never even ice skated. That's, like... unreal for anyone in Letterkenny," Jonesy piped in, Reilly nodding in agreement.
"You guys are making me feel so much better." You rolled your eyes. "Besides, I have a few weeks! I can learn all I need to know, right?"
"Not quite."
"Definitely not."
Your friends' voices merged as they made their wariness at your decision known.
"You guys were great at hockey and you're already on the team. Can't you teach me some moves? We can practice every day from now until the first game. Please?" You gave them your best puppy dog impression but they, surprisingly, weren't moved.
"Why don't you ask Coach to teach you? That way, you two can spend some alone time together." Jonesy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Then you can finally ask him out," Reilly suggested, making Jonesy high five him.
"Great idea, boys. Y/n can learn some sick moves and get a sweetie. Sounds like a great plan, boys."
"They'll get hockey sticks in both senses of the word, boys."
"Y/n can hit the puck then hit up Coach to fu-"
"Enough!" you exclaimed, embarrassed by what your friends were shamelessly saying in the crowded bar. "I get what you mean. I don't want Coach to know that I'm new to hockey and if I ask him to teach me, my secret is out. Can you guys please just help me out this one time? If I score in my first game, I promise I'll ask Coach out."
"That'll be two scores for y/n in one night, boys!" yelled out Jonesy, Reilly jumping up and down in excitement with his best friend. You finished your drink and paid your tab to Gail, not wanting to waste time at MoDeans any longer. You had hockey equipment to buy.
Your first practice was a total disaster. The simple task of ice skating was proving to be a lot more difficult than you thought, let alone trying to multitask staying upright while watching a puck fly around and doing your best to guard it from your personal trainers. You went home that day completely dejected until you thought of Coach and how happy he would be seeing you score a point. The potential of being the one to make him scream in happiness during the game was a strong incentive for you to return to the rink the next day, ready to give it your all. By the time the first team practice came about at the end of the first week of your private training, you were confident in your abilities to at least skate well enough while wielding your stick. You were competent enough at the sport now to where your teammates thought you hadn't played in a while but were getting back into it slowly but surely.
The second week of your training with Reilly and Jonesy went tons better than your first week and you were actually getting excited for the team practice to better hone your skills. Saturday's team practice was the best you had done, proving you could take a hit from someone without falling over and losing control of the puck. Sunday's practice, though, was one for the books. Coach made an appearance and your heart was hammering through your uniform. He looked so handsome in his hockey gear, a far cry from the suit he usually wore while coaching. You liked seeing this side of him, infinitely more relaxed while playing the game he loved deeply. You were honored when he chose to partner with you for drills but you found it hard to focus on the task at hand every time you spied Coach's muscles bulging from under his sleeves or when his plush lips spoke your name to get your attention. When you did focus on hockey, though, you were able to keep up with Coach's pace and found yourself on the receiving end of many compliments from your friends and teammates alike, igniting a fire inside you to keep working harder. You were dead set on gaining the skills needed to get that puck in the net during the game, if not only as a promise to yourself to finally ask Coach on a date, but as a testament to your dedication to hockey and unwavering determination in the face of a daunting task.
The third and final week of training before the big game had Jonesy, Reilly, and you practicing your abilities to shoot the puck into the net when there were obstacles to maneuver around. They took turns guarding you, as well as the net, successfully blocking you from making a shot all throughout the week, but by the time Friday came around, you had outsmarted and out skated the both of them, smacking the puck into the net and earning cheers and hugs from your closest friends as you celebrated your achievement.
"That's all we can teach you," said Reilly, "now you just have to remember all of this stuff when you're actually playing."
"But we know you'll do great out there. You had the best teachers after all." Jonesy pointed at himself and Reilly while you let out a laugh.
"Thanks for all your help, guys, I really appreciate it. I would've been completely at a loss without your guidance and hockey expertise."
"Hockey expertise? That's my middle name. Actually, according to my birth certificate it's not, but it should be."
Coach's voice boomed from the doorway behind you, making you jump at the unexpected, but very much welcome, visitor. Reilly and Jonesy packed up their gear and made a quick exit, not-so-subtly hinting at you to enjoy your alone time with Coach by making hearts with their hands and kissy faces. Coach was none the wiser at the shenanigans happening behind his back, which you were grateful for.
"So, what was it those boys were teaching you? If you need more help, I'm here to practice if you'd like to join me."
Even with the cold air of the ice rink enveloping you, you felt your face warm at his willingness to spend time with you. You told him what you and the boys were up to earlier and he hummed in approval.
"I like that you're prioritizing scoring. That's a real winner's attitude, I like that about you."
You tried not to let his phrasing get to your head because you needed to keep a clear mind during this practice, but you couldn't help but feel giddy at the fact that Coach complimented you so freely. No one else seemed to get that treatment; did he have feelings for you that ran deeper than friendship? It was much too early to guess at that, but no matter what, his words meant a lot to you since he was extremely honest so you knew he meant what he said.
"Why don't you show me what you got and I can see what needs improving?"
You nodded and drew in a breath, recalling everything you learned over the past weeks. As you skated around, puck flying across the ice, you did your best to avoid getting blocked by the various hazards placed by Coach as well as Coach himself. He was impressively fast and quite nimble in his skates, not leaving much room for you to find an opening to lob the puck into the net. After a few failed attempts, Coach stopped you for a moment.
"Can I show you a better way to hold the stick while you shoot?"
"Please do, this is getting frustrating."
Coach smirked. "That means I'm doing my job well. I want to see you succeed at the game tomorrow, though, so you have to make sure you can keep calm to barrel through anyone who gets in your way."
"You're right. I get in my own head too much, too often. I just have to have trust in my skills and I know I can do it."
Coach was now standing to your side, holding his hockey stick out. "Put your hands like this... no, like this... yeah, sort of? Keep them lined up like this."
His demonstration was hard for you to understand exactly how your hands should be resting on the stick, but before you could express more of your frustrations, Coach caught you by surprise for the second time that day.
"Would you mind if I move your hands with my own?"
"That's fine," you squeaked out, anxiously awaiting his now ungloved hands to rest on top of your own. His soft skin made contact with you as he gently moved your hands to grip the stick in a new position. You didn't want to know how flustered you looked at that moment. You felt like your entire brain shut down and you forgot how to function as a human for a second, too involved in the lovely feeling of his hand on yours. The proximity was killing you as he held you close, the slight smell of cologne wafting into your nose and making you never want to experience another scent in your life but that one. When he finally let go, your hands felt empty in a way you'd never known before. However, you shook off the feelings of heartache for the man who was so close yet so far from you in favor of whacking the hell out of the black disc in front of you.
"Just remember, be quick and precise with it! You'll want to-"
You cut him off with a slam of the stick on the puck as it went whizzing past him and into the net with breakneck speed.
"Like that?" you asked, a cheeky smile on your face.
"Just like that," breathed out an astounded Coach. "What a great shot. You're a fantastic player. Do that tomorrow and we'll have no problem winning."
"Yay! That's what I was hoping for," you told him, taking a swig from your water bottle. You both decided that you had enough practice, not wanting to over exert yourselves before tomorrow's game. You two sat on the bench together, shedding your skates and talking about your hockey journeys. You heard how Coach got started playing and why he's so passionate about the game, and it made you happy knowing that he trusted you enough to delve into such personal topics. It was now your turn to divulge your history, or lack thereof, with the sport, and you tried your best to be honest but not totally spill your secret. However, Coach's presence relaxed you too much and you found yourself speaking much too freely.
"It's hard to believe I figured this all out just in these past three weeks," you sighed dreamily, your chin resting in your hands as you observed the ice. All of a sudden, your eyes widened in realization of what you said. You prayed Coach didn't catch what you uttered, but you weren't so lucky. You reluctantly turned your head toward him and were met with a look of pure incredulity on his face.
"Wait, what did you just say?"
You wished you could lie your way out of this but it was impossible. You screwed up, big time, and now you have to own it.
"I didn't want to tell anyone that I'd never played before because I really wanted to be on the team," you said sheepishly, "but I have the skills I need for the game, all thanks to Jonesy, Reilly, and you, of course."
Coach didn't seem any bit convinced. "You're telling me that the game is tomorrow and you think you can survive out there after never having played hockey? Are you out of your mind?"
"It's a beer league, Coach, not the NHL," you argued. You were upset that he wasn't taking your progress seriously. He had said himself that you were a great player--why did it matter that you hadn't hashed it out with strangers when you were capable of holding your own against your teammates in practice matches?
"It may be a beer league, y/n, but you're still gonna get crushed out there. Absolutely pummeled. I'm not allowing you on the ice for a few games at least."
"I am an adult, you can't tell me what I can and can't do." Your tone was tinged with venom.
"I am a coach and I know what players should and shouldn't do."
Coach, in his anger, was leaned in toward you, his face infiltrating your personal space. You would've been elated to be so close to him at literally any other time but this. You huffed in annoyance while Coach's peeved expression stayed trained on you as you backed up and crossed your arms in defiance, neither of you saying anything but your expressions were doing all the talking. The large, empty rink was presently feeling much too small as you stared into Coach's narrowed brown eyes.
"I don't need this from you. I'm going home. See you tomorrow."
You grabbed your bag and walked away as fast as your legs could move you without looking too pathetic.
Now it was game day and Coach was nowhere to be found. No one had heard from him all day so it was assumed he wasn't playing. With another person out due to sickness, that meant the team had just the right amount of players to rotate you in and allow you some time on the ice.
Which is where you were now.
Literally on the ice because some jerk on the other team slammed into you.
"This isn't the NOSHO, asshole, take it easy," you grumbled, quickly getting up and back into the game. It was halfway through the third period with still no sign of Coach, and you resigned to the fact that he stood you all up. You were disappointed, to say the least. What was his problem? You didn't explicitly lie to anyone and you were able to (mostly) hold your own on the ice. There was no reason for Coach to be this upset at you for something so silly! You shook your head to clear your thoughts. There was no time to care about something like that when you had a game to win.
By the time the last minute was shown on the board, the teams were tied for points. You still hadn't scored your own point, but you were helping the other members of your team score by blocking players and passing the puck back and forth. For it being your first game, you weren't doing horribly. Jonesy and Reilly were by your side a good portion of the time to encourage and support you, making your heart swell with joy at knowing your friends always had your back.
If only my crush was the same way, you thought to yourself.
The puck had made it back into your possession as the clock quickly counted down. You were skating fast and hard down to the net, utilizing your training to avoid the players actively trying to block you. You sped around them, completely focused on the monumental task in front of you.
"SLAM IT IN! SHOW 'EM HOW IT'S DONE!"
Coach?!
You were stunned to see his figure up against the glass, slamming on it with his palms. His arrival was enough to kick yourself into gear, ready to prove your worth as a hockey player. You took in deep breath, making sure your hands were positioned just like Coach taught you. Without hesitation, you brought your stick back and rammed it forward right as you got hit from behind by an opposing team member. The puck went flying through the air and landed neatly behind the goalie as the buzzer went off, signaling the end of the game.
You just won!
As the crowd went wild, your teammates rushed over to you, cheering for your impressive game winning move. The exciting moment of victory was over as quick as it began, the rink clearing out in a hurry as people had better things to do on a Saturday afternoon than celebrate a beer league hockey game. It was once again quiet as you collected your things, ready to get home and take a much needed shower. You were currently putting your skates in your bag when familiar shoes entered your vision.
"Why weren't you here earlier, Coach?" you asked, hesitating to meet his eyes out of disappointment, but your love for him was stronger than your dismay. "We were all worried."
His brown eyes held an uncharacteristically soft gaze toward you as he spoke.
"I couldn't stand to see you potentially get hurt and not be able to protect you," he confessed, a blush lighting up his face, "but that's all part of the game, I guess. I thought it was best for me to sit this one out and let you experience hockey as it should be. I wish you would have told me you never played before so I could have taught you everything you needed to know to stay safe out there but... it seems like Jonesy and Reilly really pulled through for you. You played well today, I'm proud of you, y/n."
You didn't know what to say. You couldn't fathom that was the reason Coach didn't want you to play. The normally brash, aggressive man was standing in front of you, blushing, meeker than a mouse, and telling you he wanted to protect you. Did that mean...?
"I really like you," you blurted out. "I have for the longest time and I promised myself I would ask you on a date if I scored today so that's what I'm doing. Would you like to go out with me sometime?"
If you were shocked at Coach's admission of why he was MIA most of the day, he was triple the amount of shocked at your question-- you could tell by the way his mouth hung open before he sputtered out an answer.
"Oh! Well, I haven't been on a date since my beloved Barb left me alone on this earth... but I like you too, y/n. A lot. I'd love to join you on a date."
You exhaled a sigh of relief. "Wanna meet at MoDean's later tonight? I heard it's open mic night."
Coach's eyes lit up. "I'll bring my ukulele. See you there?"
"See you there," you said in agreement, a wide smile never leaving your face. You would have never thought that this day would come, but you were overjoyed that you gained the confidence to ask out the Coach of your dreams. Tonight would be the perfect ending to the perfect day.
You'd better pucking believe it.
7 notes · View notes
papermonkeyism · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Finished my first re-read of this book in twenty years. (original name Homeland, this is the Finnish edition.)
And yup, this sure is a thirty year old book. I don't know why I feel kinda disappointed, I knew exactly what I was getting into. It was somehow both not as bad as I remembered while also being in a way worse than I expected.
But nah, they're just evil. Grinning maliciously and taking unholy pleasure in being evil.
It's kinda frustrating read, to be honest. The story in itself isn't all that bad, I'd say, but it's hindered pretty bad by being based entirely on DnD mechanics, specifically the alignment system. Like, the story in itself makes sense, it tells about dark elves, who basically live in a cult, and the protagonist who's born into it, but will eventually abandon it and leave.
But instead of actually examining what living in a cult would be like, they're just evil. Maybe it's just my perspective, being someone who's been on the internet for a couple decades. I know people who come from abusive bacgrounds, and I've heard stories from people who've survived actual cults, and it would make perfect sense to treat the drow as a cult, except with their god being actually real and actively meddling with their lives to make the brain washing just that much worse. There's a lot of potential in there!
Like the main character is raised from the very start being indoctrinated in the spider cult, there's even a scene where he gets whipped (with a multi-headed magic whip made of living snakes) at the age of four or five for daring to look happily at a woman while being a child of inferior sex, yet he never acts like this kind of raising left any marks in the way he behaves. No trauma at all, what so ever. He keeps being openly surprised by his people not being nice to each other despite the book telling how he was raised to know his place. The guy has no self-preservation at all, he keeps wondering out loud at people with the power to hurt him and I just keep wincing so bad.
He somehow just speed runs his thirty years of life in life lessons in the last few days of the book. Like, you were raised into this your whole life, yet you're only learning all of it now?
(and why do you keep calling it "unholy" all the time, it's the only religion you've ever known. Also that one time he openly gasped about the unholiness at his sister, who's an entire priestess, and her reaction was along the lines of "yeah, but she's the goddess of our people", like why are you agreeing with him about the unholyness?!)
Honestly, you could very easily just rewrite the whole book, keep all the story beats as is, and take out the "always evil by default" racial setting without losing pretty much anything. You'd probably still need to keep the gods as real, physical entities the way they are, but it'd still make it a lot more beliveable.
I have much gripe about the tone of this book, apparently.
I mean, I do like some of the tropes it has, not gonna lie. More prominently in the later books, but still. There's a reason Drizzt was the favourite character of teenage me twenty years ago, and it's been so weird revisiting this story after all this time. I'm still having many mixed feelings here. Multiple emotions even. I don't even know what they are, but they sure are many.
Though, you know what's the worst thing? I am notoriously bad when it comes to names, I have some serious trouble learning and remembering even people I live with for extended periods of time. I can't name most of my old classmates despite them being people I spent 3+ years with, and it once took me over three months to learn the name Paula despite being such a simple and common belonging to one of my closest friends at the time. I'm bad with names. So why is it that I can still remember things like fucking Daermon N'a'shezbaernon, that's an absolute monster of a name, and I haven't thought about it for a single second in the past two decades, why the fuck do I still remember that one???!?
Anyway, onwards to the next book!
45 notes · View notes
slickbackdani · 1 year ago
Text
So, with the end of the current hiatus nowhere in sight, the creators of Epic Rap Battles of History have been releasing short videos in which they respond to people's matchup ideas and talk about whether or not they'd do them. What follows are my thoughts on each suggestion.
Dog the Bounty Hunter vs Chris Hansen: Terrible; Dog stopped being relevant years ago and Hansen has no real valid matchups
Jack Sparrow vs Bilbo Baggins: They might be able to pull it off, but the connection is tenuous at best
Malcolm X vs Nelson Mandela: Perfect. Do it immediately
Dexter vs Punisher: Could work, though I prefer Punisher vs Peacemaker
The Wiggles v-NO
Marco Polo vs Zheng Yi Sao: Awesome; the show's always great at spotlighting obscure historical figures, so this would be fun
Sheldon Cooper vs Rick Sanchez: I don't really get their reasoning for passing this one up. "I don't wanna use Rick because his creator is problematic," they say seconds before suggesting Roseanne instead and three years after using Harry Potter
HP Lovecraft vs Mary Shelley: Could work, but Lovecraft might be better suited for a more prolific author
Captain America vs Mussolini: Could work, but I prefer Cap vs Batman
Black Panther vs Catwoman: Unique idea; would be cool to see which versions of the characters they use
Ethan Hunt vs Angus MacGyver: Meh
John Wilkes Booth vs Lee Harvey Oswald: I'm glad they turned this one down; it just sounds very insubstantial. The fact that they each killed Presidents is the only thing either of them are known for
Robin Hood vs Ned Kelly: Sounds awesome; I can’t fathom what Lloyd was talking about when he said Robin Hood can't be made "cool." Has he never heard of any of the non-Disney movies he was in?
Steve Harvey vs Dr. Phil: Meh
The Three Stooges vs The Three Musketeers: IT'S ALL I WANT AND I'VE WAITED FOR SO LONG
Patrick Bateman vs Andrew Tate: Bateman is worthy of a rap battle, but there is no fucking way a disgusting sack of shit like Andrew Fucking Tate deserves to be immortalized in this or any series. Not only is he a monstrous asshole, but since I'd never heard of him before he got arrested, he just comes off as too second-string and his image too fleeting to be remembered after the battle's release anyway. It's like how Sarah Palin and Napoleon Dynamite appeared in season 1; what's the point? Bateman would be better off facing another fictional character like Tyler Durden or Tommy Shelby or Rorschach or Homelander or any other member of the "you're missing the point by idolizing them" club
Miles Morales vs Dick Grayson: A great idea for a battle, but it irks me how they seem to only think of Dick Grayson as Robin, and even then only how he was portrayed in the 60s TV show. Since Dick Grayson's graduation to the solo hero Nightwing and his leadership of the Titans have been the status quo in the comics for decades, and even his TV and movie appearances as Robin clearly show him to be more than the hyperactive goofball that Lloyd portrayed him as in season 2, their lack of research here is jarring — especially considering how diligent they are with their other characters (remember, Peter read every issue of the Dragon Ball manga and watched every episode of Breaking Bad in preparation for the later half of season 3).
Garfield and Jon vs Calvin and Hobbes: Eh, I don't see it. No disrespect to their creators or fans, but they just ain't rap battle material
Metallica and AC/DC vs Slayer and Guns n Roses: I agree with them that a team battle between unrelated heavy metal acts would be unwieldy, but any combination of those four could totally be awesome in a straight 1v1 battle
Richard Nixon vs King John: Could work, but I'd rather have Nixon in a Presidential royale
Barbie vs He-Man: Another "meh" idea, but I'm not fond of Peter's assertion that He-Man is only known for the bad '90s movie when he's appeared in multiple media before and since that have all gained a far more positive reception and a strong fanbase
17 notes · View notes
starspray · 9 months ago
Note
BTS for what your life is?
BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from [that fic]
What Your Life Is was so much fun to write! I'd never done anything with Harad before and it was a lot of fun to do some worldbuilding there, and to figure out all the OCs--who they were, what their relationship to one another was, etc. I have a fair amount of notes that never made it into the fic, that I jotted down before I knew where the story itself was going to go.
It's a TRSB fic, for @independence1776's gorgeous moodboard. Fun fact, IIRC said moodboard was made with me in mind because I'd made a joke about having written Maglor being more or less forcefully befriended by smaller and hairier creatures (hobbits twice and Roverandom once) several years in a row for TRSB. I was extremely excited to snag it during claims!
It's very hard to pick a favorite passage but I'm very fond of this one:
"Father also wanted to ask if he can bring the family here before the storm season begins in earnest," said Mathos. "He does not feel it is safe anymore for anyone known to do business with Elves. And he promises to bring extra supplies." "Yes, of course," said Maglor. "You would all be welcome. I'll go tomorrow—" "You can't go!" Nanaia protested. "Haven't you been listening to what Mathos is saying?" Iset demanded at the same time. "I don't plan to draw attention to myself," Maglor said. "Besides, if what Barca told me is true, they all think I walk around dripping blood everywhere." "Huan will draw attention, and you know that he won't be left behind," said Iset. "He drew very little attention when we were there just a few weeks ago," said Maglor, "and I can change both his and my appearance if I must." "You said you couldn't, last time," said Iset. "I cannot shrink him down to the size of a cat," said Maglor, "but I can give him the seeming of—oh, I don't know, a pony or something. If I must. Huan can take care of himself, and I can of course change my own appearance." When Iset still looked skeptical he added, "I have sung the Lay of Leithian for you before. Do you remember Felagund's arts? If he could make himself look like an orc, I can certainly change my hair color." "You are not Felagund," Iset said, in the same tone that Vanna used to scold the twins when they tried to imitate the great heroes of their favorite tales. "No, I am not," Maglor agreed, only barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I am the one who taught him. It just takes more time and effort than I care to expend on a routine shopping trip. This will be different." "You aren't going to go to the temple, are you?" Mathos exclaimed. "Maglor, you can't!" "Everyone around here seems very sure of what I can and cannot do," Maglor said. "I have walked this world for more than three Ages of the Sun, remember, and faced far more serious dangers than a few Men in dark robes who believe they can bring Morgoth back from the Void with a few chants."
Maglor has just learned that the Sons of Elrond were looking for him before disappearing, and both fortunately and unfortunately for him he is surrounded by people who would very much like him not to endanger himself, but who also have been living with him in peace and (relative) safety for a long time, so they don't really know precisely what he's capable of. I love a Maglor who is both competent and confident--he's not very happy about this turn of events, but he's not going to shy away from doing what he has to, especially if Elrond's kids are involved.
I also really like the idea of Maglor having taught Finrod both music and magic back in Valinor, though I haven't done anything else with it.
What I liked most about writing this fic was now unsolitary Maglor is, in a pretty big departure from how he's typically written (and how I typically write him) post-Silm--it was part of Indy's premise with the moodboard, and it was so much fun to write a big complicated household/found family for Maglor to be a part and nominal head of. And I got to make OCs galore! There are a grand total of four canon characters present in this almost 20k word fic, and I think it's great.
5 notes · View notes