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gxthicupid · 7 months ago

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𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗢 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗱 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 + 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦

𝗡𝗘 𝗭𝗛𝗔 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗬

I know this theory has been talked about a lot, but I would like to put my own thoughts and opinions about Ne Zha’s age. Of course, Ne Zha died at the age of 12, yet in the series; considered to be a somewhat spin-off/sequel to the Journey to the West novel, he appears to be physically an adult.

Understandably, some people wanted to defend the idea of Ne Zha physically and mentally grown since Journey to the West by using other country’s beliefs of Ne Zha depicted as an adult, however, other countries still depict Ne Zha as a child, and the crew for LEGO Monkie Kid revealed he was canonically a child during Season 4, Episode 5 “The Court of the Yellow-Robed Demon”. This leaves to the question of how he managed to appear older.

I have been pondering on the idea for quite some time, and while going through several posts of people’s headcanons, references from other media depicting the other characters from Journey to the West, I have come to a conclusion.

To support this theory, I will be using Macaque as an example to answer the mystery behind Ne Zha’s sudden ageing in LEGO Monkie Kid. It has become abundantly clear Macaque has a missing eye, and in the Season 3, Episode 8, “Benched”, while trying to retrieve the third Samadhi Ring from Tang, for a split second, the tip of his tail becomes slightly white.

While going through fanart, people often depict Macaque, having glamorised his looks in order to hide his features (i.e., his scarred eye). Saying that, I believe Ne Zha has adapted to glamorise his child form into an adult form, possibly from wanting to fit his mental age physically and feel comfortable. Macaque so far, hasn’t shown his true form for a prologue time, I believe Nezha can hold his adult form without any difficulty.

𝗠𝗞’𝗦 𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗬

Season 5 of LEGO Monkie Kid is bound to show Nuwa, or MK’s supposed mother, on the show. Most people are wanting Nuwa to be a loving and caring mother, however, I do not believe that will be the case considering the direction the show is taking on MK’s backstory.

In the Season 4 special “Emperor’s Wrath”, the Kings of Hell in the Underworld are shown to be devising a plan for the upcoming events for Season 5, and personally, I believe Nuwa will be some sort of secondary villain associated with the main plot in Season 5.

I am predicting that Nuwa has some strong connections, or at the very least, is acquainted with the Kings of Hell. Perhaps in the past, the Kings of Hell held a grudge against Sun Wukong after erasing his name from the Book of the Dead.

They weren’t able to change the pages since the paper magically link to the people whose names are written, and possibly, recreating a new set of paper will negatively affect the other people’s mortality; which the Kings of Hell are not willing to risk.

Leading to the Kings of Hell requesting the aid of the creator of humans, Nuwa, since the residents of the Celestial Realm are not going to approve such a dire plan without the approval of the Jade Emperor.

Maybe the Kings of Hell gained Nuwa’s interest throughout a promise with a type of reward at the end of deal, and making her create a lifeform with equal or stronger power than Sun Wukong.

From the flashback in Season 4 Episode 6, “Show Me The Monster'', there were several stone statues of various animals before the creation of MK (hinting there were several attempts to create the perfect lifeform).

The idea of creating MK as a mystic monkey probably links to the Journey to the West novel, in the chapter where Macaque shapeshifted into the Monkey King and deceives the other pilgrims; and before the reveal of the Six-Eared Macaque, it was stated that the imposter was close to Sun Wukong’s power level, which, I’m assuming, Nuwa took note.

Since Season 4 has hinted that Sun Wukong had some sort of connection with MK before he was created, I am predicting that he possibly knew Nuwa as a friend before she became an acquaintance with the Kings of Hell. Nuwa used that relationship as an advantage to analyse his skills and powers, while discussing using Sun Wukong as a pawn to help MK to be trained by the Monkey King, in order for MK to unlock his powers later in life.

Reasoning why I believe Sun Wukong isn’t aware of Nuwa is supported in the Season 4 special, “Emperor’s Wrath”, when Azure Lion was defeated, Sun Wukong questioned him who set him free from the Scroll of Memory, and Azure Lion had no recollection.

Supporting this theory, judging the age of MK when he first met Pigsy in Season 4, Episode 6, “Show Me The Monster”, he seemed to be around the age of 5 years old, which when he should some remembered of Nuwa or Sun Wukong to some degree, but it’s possibly she must have erased MK’s memories. This might be an ability that she might use in Season 5.

Nuwa must have deceived Sun Wukong somehow to convince him to protect MK when he proves himself to have potential to become Sun Wukong’s successor, not only to allow MK’s abilities to develop and become stronger, but she might also use MK to spy on the Monkey King from afar.

To support this theory, I will use the 5th Anniversary LEGO set of Monkie Kid, as Nuwa is seen to be in disguise while running a jade shop in Megapolis. Perhaps she purposely dropped MK off at Pisgy’s Noodles and lived around the city to observe MK and waited until he was ready to wield the staff. Sun Wukong must have done the same, but without the knowledge of Nuwa’s plan with the Kings of Hell (To learn Sun Wukong’s weaknesses for the sake of devising a plan).

In the pilot episode of LEGO Monkie Kid, “A Hero is Born”, MK needed to deliver some noodles to a customer, but ended up dealing with the Demon Bull Family. Perhaps Nuwa also purposely made MK make the trip so that he can find Monkey King’s staff and allow MK to meet Sun Wukong and start training because Nuwa might have a deadline to finish her end of the deal, before the Kings of Hell will take action in Season 5.

𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗞𝗘𝗬𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Connecting to the last theory, I believe there will be a likely chance that Season 5 will introduce the other mystic monkeys from the Journey to the West novel. Judging from the direction of the LEGO Monkie Kid series, there will be new characters introduced other than Nuwa, considering that Season 5 will focus more on MK’s past, and him learning how to control his monkey powers.

For those who aren’t aware, in the Journey to the West novel, it is canon that there are a total of four mystic monkeys, which includes Sun Wukong (Spirit Intelligent Stone Monkey) and Macaque (Six-Eared Macaque Monkey).

The other two are known as the Red Butt Horse Monkey and the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey (using the translated names from the Chinese characters).

Since the series does slightly alternate the Journey to the West lore, perhaps the Red Butt Horse Monkey and Pass through Arm Ape Monkey were created before Sun Wukong and Macaque, and the idea of MK being a new mystic monkey existing in the LEGO Monkie Kid show does bring their attention and they will contribute to the main conflict of Season 5 (Perhaps they know much more about the upcoming conflict with the Kings of Hell and MK’s monkey power awakening).

This prediction might be a bit of a stretch, but since MK’s monkey powers will most likely be one of the main focuses for the plot of Season 5, I believe these two monkeys are willing to become an influence; both negatively and positively.

Reasoning for this prediction is connected to the fact that the Red Butt Horse Monkey is known to have the ability to avoid death and lengthen its life, which I believe might lead the show to make an alliance with Nuwa and the Kings of Hell.

Meanwhile, the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey might be helping MK through his glitching when it comes to his monkey form, and might have more knowledge about dealing with MK’s problem than Monkey King.

To support this theory, in Season 4, Episode 7, “Pitiful Creatures”, when Wukong first sees MK’s glitching, he looks like he doesn’t look like he know how to deal this side-effect of unlocking the monkey powers, considering that Sun Wukong and Macaque were already created as monkeys and were able control their powers.

The Pass through Arm Ape Monkey might have known of MK’s existence through the battle against Azure Lion in the Season 4 special, “Emperor’s Wrath”, as the sky and the whole world was breaking apart, and since the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey can manipulate the moon and stars.

It could be the reason why the Red Butt Horse Monkey told Nuwa and the Kings of Hell about MK’s powers.

I don’t have anything else to say about this theory/prediction. However, if the series doesn’t show them, there HAS to be some influence, Easter eggs, etc. connecting to these mystic monkeys.

𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗕𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Aside from Sun Wukong and Macaque having their pasts explored, the series does have the Demon Bull King appearance in these flashbacks since he was once a member of the Brotherhood, first revealed in Season 4, Episode 2, “New Adventures”, as everyone is discussing who will be the next Jade Emperor after overthrowing the current one.

From this single flashback alone, DBK was shown to be a good guy, fighting alongside his sworn brothers for they thought was right, and it does beg the question: What made him change his morality from good to bad?

In the pilot, Season 1, “A Hero is Born”, he is first introduced as the main antagonist whose goal is to conquer the world, and suddenly Sun Wukong traps him under a mountain despite DBK being his sworn brother. This minor detail is very unusual considering that in Season 3, Episode 10 “The Samadhi Fire”, showcases Sun Wukong, Demon Bull King and Ne Zha helping to separate the Samadhi Fire from Redson as a child.

Judging from this scene, the event must have taken place post to the Journey to the West, as the Monkey King isn’t wearing the circlet, as most of the flashbacks which are taking place in the Journey to the West shows him wearing the circlet given from Tang Sanzang. The pilot does show Sun Wukong wearing the same suit of armour as in Season 3, Episode 10 “The Samadhi Fire”, and it's strange how the Monkey King went from helping the Demon Bull King to fighting him.

Either something happened between the events of removing of the Samadhi Fire and the events occurred in the pilot, or off-screen there was some conflict between the two, but set a temporary truce to help Redson with the Samadhi Fire.

The most assumed event that could pinpoint the morality change of the Demon Bull King would be when he and Princess Iron Fan met during the battle against Heaven. However, I highly doubt that. Since this event took place before the birth of Redson, and if Demon Bull King and Sun Wukong didn’t have conflict during this time period, then this accusation would be inaccurate.

This wasn’t a theory or a prediction, however, I REALLY do feel like talking about this since it’s been bugging me for quite some time. I hope that Season 5 will be able to resolve this plot hole and perhaps it might correlate with the main plot of the next.

While I do hope, I also doubt it since the Demon Bull Family has not had much screen time in recent seasons. But simultaneously, I bet there will be a chance since the new 5th Anniversary LEGO set does display Redson working at the BBQ restaurant in Megapolis, so maybe a slim chance.

I was going to talk about Peng and Erlang working together in Season 5, considering the current conflict with the Monkie Gang and Peng, and due to the fact that Erlang is a cousin? Brother? Or a family member of the Jade Emperor according to the Journey to the West novel, and wanted to avenge his death.

(Probably ignore this one, this was a last minute theory)

But I didn’t know what else to talk about and it does seem like the two will be working on their own.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the theories that I have come up with. I haven’t gotten the chance to re-watch all of the episodes of LEGO Monkie Kid, so I mostly relied on my memory. Leave some comments about your thoughts and theories of the series or what will happen in Season 5.

#Lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk theory #lmk predictions #lmk season 5 #lmk season 4 #lmk season 3 #lmk mk #lmk nuwa #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk demon bull king #mystic monkeys #journey to the west #jttw #LEGO

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eternal-love · 8 months ago

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Austin and Me

“Elvis-mania”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

Warning: mentions of COVID-19

MASTERLIST

COVID-19 took the world by storm and what was meant to just be some months in Australia became almost a year. Austin took this to his advantage to get more into the Elvis role, I supported him with any research he needed and with his weight gain, his accent. At first it was really enjoyable, I mean, dancing and singing to Elvis’ songs in the middle of the night, watching his movies and performances, watching Austin trying to recreate them. But then it started to get more serious, he started to go method.

I wasn’t a fan of method acting, I’ve never tried it before but I did have some co-stars that did it and it was like hell on earth, I’d like to think that he was going for a Marlon Brando route but it was starting to feel like Jared Leto when he played the Joker.

“Sit still!” I laughed as he didn’t stop moving around while I placed the hair dye on his brownish hair, he wasn’t a natural dark-haired man, as a boy his hair was this beautiful blonde.

“It smells disgusting, God, how I miss your hairdresser.” He said with a chuckle, his voice was a little thicker, a bit of a southern drawl to it.

“See? and you called me ridiculous whenever I went with her. I don’t know what she uses but it smells delicious.” I had my hairdresser back in California, she did my more trickier hairstyles, like the beehive ponytail and she did dye Austin’s hair black a couple of times before.

“Or maybe we were just high from all the chemicals, who knows?” He laughed again, yeah, maybe we did not ventilate well enough right now, I moved towards the window and opened it, not remembering that my gloves were pretty much still with hair dye, I stained that whole window up. To this day I still remember how much the landlord charged us for that one. After 30 minutes, we both kneeled beside the bathtub, I started rinsing his hair.

“Baby, you gonna drown me or something!” He said to me, if the water wasn’t too cold then it was too hot, or I was too aggressive with the rinsing.

“Then so be it!” I said to him, shampooing his hair.

Afterwards I even dried it and styled it, he saw himself in the mirror again, he finally had jet black hair again after months of just having this weird combination between black and blondish hair.

“I don’t know— I feel a little silly. Like an impersonator.” He had a grimace as he moved his hair side to side.

“You look really good. I promise.” I smiled at him and then kissed his cheek. “You can do this. Now let’s watch Viva Las Vegas for the fifth time, I’m finally getting the Ann-Margret dance.”

We did our research and everything, we knew little facts about Elvis, he liked knowing about Priscilla, I loved Priscilla. Austin found out this really interesting fact about Elvis and Priscilla’s bedroom time. As we were in bed, trying to spice things up.

“Wait, baby. We oughta try something new.” He said as he pulled away and got up from bed, he rummaged through a box of cameras we had, disposable ones, vintage ones, instants. He bought out an instax camera, with its film. “So— I read that Elvis and Priscilla did this and I wanted to try it out.”

“I’m up for it.” I smiled as I took off my nightgown coverup.

We started taking Polaroids, he made me pose, I was his model for the night. He grabbed my chin tenderly and moved it to the right direction, he got on top of me taking picture after picture. We even tried dress up, him as a policeman and doctor, I was a secretary, a maid, a teacher, we tried everything in the book.

He’d get in between my legs, kissing me all over, taking Polaroids while he was at it, taking Polaroids while I was at it, going down on him.

It was magical but it did make me feel ashamed whenever I looked at my purchase history and saw all the Polaroid films I bought during this time. We spent hundred of dollars in just the films for the instax.

I had a really good time with Austin but it didn’t really last long, until he submerged himself totally on Elvis. At first it was the voice and then it was the food, then it was his behavior. I couldn’t even remember the last time he slept with me. All I heard was Elvis, Elvis, Elvis— and not in the good way. Look, I understood him and everything but it was making me go nuts, I’m a big Elvis fan but he was just going bonkers. I lost count on how many books he read or how many hour he spent looking at Elvis stuff, he barely even spent time with Lori. I wanted to die whenever he called me ‘woman’ or ‘satnin’.

There were many times when he basically shut himself out, in the bedroom or the beach, it was like he was trying to torture me nonstop. I felt so useless because I wasn’t able to help him either. Whenever I did try to help him, he’d yell at me.

“Baby, please— you need to sleep.” I knocked on the office door, he had been there all day.

“Don’t bother me, woman.” He said sternly, I, being the stubborn I was, tried to get him out of there.

“Baby— you don’t need to indulge so much in Elvis. You should really come to sleep.” I knocked on the door once again, all I heard was silence afterwards but then the door opened aggressively.

“Are ya deaf or something?! Woman, I don’t want to hear another mouth comin’ out of your damn mouth. Ya hear me?” He said very aggressively, even he was taken aback. “Baby, you gotta let me do my damn job, so go to sleep, I’ll catch up to you later.” He dismissed me with his hand.

The king sized bed felt really empty without him there, cuddling me, kissing my head or forehead, we barely even slept on the same bed so in those cases, I’d bring Lori with me and hug her all night. I woke up to every sudden movement, thinking it was Austin but it was just my imagination playing cruel tricks on me. And whenever we did have alone time in bed, I tried wearing my cutest nightgowns, I even wore perfume to bed, Miss Dior, I adored that scent and so did Austin. God, I even wore my makeup to bed!

“Hey.” I whispered while I got in bed besides him, his back leaning against the headboard as he read Train to Memphis, I started kissing his neck softly, rubbing his bicep.

“Calm down, satnin.” He said, not taking his eyes off the book. “Ya know I’m trying to pay attention to this.” He kept on reading and reading in silence until he finally spoke up. “There a thousand women who would actually care to help and listen to me while I do my damn job. You gonna sit and listen or not?”

I stopped, I laid back and stared at him, storms in my eyes. I was trying everything to keep him looking at me yet nothing worked.

“But-“

“But nothing, woman.” He said, there was silence again, he kept on reading and mumbling the words. I sat up on the bed, hugging my knees very subtly.

“I can’t stand it! It’s driving me crazy! I don’t want to hear you anymore!” I yelled out in frustration, I even closed my eyes.

“I see a mad woman.” He said on that pretentious mumble.

“No. A woman with needs that needs to be desired. You can have your Elvis books and me too.”

He looked at me and without even saying anything, she went back to reading his book, leaving me feeling humiliated.

I’ve been dying to write this part— be prepared to see our Cynthia suffer.

#Spotify #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austinbutler

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kraestburns · 4 months ago

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So Andrew Huang released a video about the usage of ai in his Book of Chances musical inspiration deck, and it basically boiled down to 21 minutes of "I don't knoooww guuuyyyys it's just so nuanced and I just don't know enough about it!", and in the video included a timelapse of the dude he hired creating one of the card images, which used a bunch of ai generated imagery that he then collaged into a larger piece. Andrew excused his usage of it because "maybe he just couldn't find the right stock photos" and "it made the process so much faster, you guys!"

And naturally, all of this really fucking pissed me off, so I did what any artist does. I recreated the image myself in only half an hour using free stock photos and basic Photoshop tools that are available in basically all free art programs. No ai necessary, done for free, in 30 minutes. I used 4 stock images with colour adjustments, brightness and contrast levels, overlay and screen layers, and a soft round brush that didn't use pressure sensitivity so even if someone didn't have a tablet they could do this with a mouse. Is it perfect? No, I made it only half an hour, what do you expect? But what if I spent an entire hour, literally twice the time, on it?

I also posted the full, real time video for anyone who wants to see how it was done. I realise that 30 minutes of silence is boring as hell, but you can supply your own music if you want. I just wanted to show the full process from beginning to end exactly how long it took.

Even ignoring the extreme ethical issues with ai, for the argument of "it saves so much time", generating images with ai can take several minutes for a single image, and that's after finding the right prompts. If you watch the video linked below, you can see that I had found all of my stock photos and positioned them on the canvas within the first three minutes, less time than it would take to generate one shitty facsimile of a free ass stock photo.

You can watch it here.

#not cryptid posting #art #illustration #photo bashing #I ALSO DIDN'T DEPRIVE A THIRD WORLD COUNTRY VILLAGE OF WATER MAKING THIS.

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smoshidiot · 4 months ago

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vidcon 2024 !

hi guys this is my rambly post abt my experience at vidcon this year if anyone wants to read abt it! overall i wanna say that it was absolutely incredible and i def wanna go back next yearr

DAY 1: check in! literally nothing youtube related happened this day but it was fun as hell to check out the venue and meet up with my friends

DAY 2: smosh meet and greet day. holy shit. in the morning was anthony's ISADW matpat panel and besties when i tell you i was worried he wouldn't be there until I SAW HIM WITH MY TWO EYES. but incredibly he does exist? and he DID show up to vidcon? the panel was such a blast and it was interesting to hear about how the past few months have been for matpat. it was also just cool as hell knowing the rest of smosh was waiting right behind the curtain 🥹 and we could see nicole off to the side enjoying the panel. also shout out to @smoshkidtv who i got to meet before the panel and is legit the greatest i love them sm ok ty

then, almost right after, there's a post on socials that's like "get to the M&G early if you want free essentials merch!" so ofc me and a few friends BOOK it up to the M&G line and are prepared to sit and wait for like 4h lmao. we pass the time by watching smosh the movie and it goes by surprisingly quickly. after being moved into the official queue it's really not that long before smosh shows up and the nerves HIT. luckily we did show up early enough for the merch (smh for 4h we better have lmaoo) and it was so cool to talk to some of the crew (kiana/erica) passing it out. then the whole smosh cast comes out. weirdly the FIRST person i saw was marcus lmao but it was great to see him (and his eyebrows) in person.

i was near the very front of the line so i really didn't even have that much time to prep before i went up with my bestie of all time @smoshmonker! but waaaa ok so we go up and anthony calls out the shirt i'm wearing bc it's a recreation of my fave 2006 catch em all shirt

he asks if i bought it from smosh.com and i go "i made it actually!" and he's like :000 and thinks it's really cool until spencer yells "DUPE" and they all get fake mad at me LMAO. i remember ian going "we're gonna sue your ass" and i'll cherish that forever. anyways then i introduce myself and say that i do art n shit and nearly forget to say my name. but holy shit guys... the second i go "my name is ana", i see ian and anthony LIGHT up 🥺 they immediately recognized me and seemed excited to see me, it was genuinely so surreal. i didn't get to talk to anthony much directly bc he was standing in the back but it looked like he WANTED to say smth to me and even that was wild. and ian was so fuckin sweet and complimentary abt my art. then i ask if we can do a friendship always wins highfive pose. ofc i ask if ian and anthony can reach each other even tho they're not standing right next to each other. bc quite frankly, what's the point of doing this pose if the besties aren't highfiving?

then the second pose was more of a surprise for @yourinterestisnotcringe hehe. we brought out a potato plush for ian to hold and he was too fuckin cute about it. he was absolutely charmed by the idea of the lil potato plush and i love this pose that he went for lmao

then as we're about to leave, ian surprises my by going "thank you for all of the cool art that you make!" and i'm just .. on fucking cloud 9. i go absolutely breathless for a moment when ian hecox, standing right in front of me, thanks me for the stuff that i make. i stutter out smth like "sorry but can i hug you?" and him being the sweetest man ever goes "absolutely!" and goes in for the hug 😭💕 it was the perfect hug and i'll forever have the mental image of his lil gold chain sparkling in the light.

then we go off to the side and @squig-s is there talking to erica and kiana again and ?? they introduce me to alé? who was so freakin cool and lovely and reached out to shake my hand. then to be quite honest we all leave the meet and greet and have a good fuckin cry bc we JUST MET SMOSH

DAY 3: panel day! we get there early as FUCK bc we have a Plan(tm) and need to be in the front row to execute it lmao. like 10 months ago we had the plan for a bunch of us to dress as that damn neighbor at vidcon and damn it, we WENT for it.

also here's ian and anthony (and damien lol) shouting us out at the beginning of the panel

the panel itself was a ton of fun! it was a live reading of reddit stories and one of them was NUTS. it was such a blast to receive a live update tbh. then RIGHT after the reddit panel ended, we had to book it upstairs to get seats for the smosh mouth panel.

I don't remember a ton from this one other than them talking about boobs for most of it. also !! krungle is returning!! i'm so fuckin excited i'd die for krungle i can't wait to have her back. also anthony was sitting on the ground off to the side of the panel and i made awkward eye contact w him a few times lol. i am also honestly bummed that ian wasn't the guest for this one, but spencer and angela were great and they really just goofed off for an hour, it was a fun time.

DAY 4: the last day of vidcon </3 there wasn't a ton on the schedule today regarding smosh, but i DID have a slot for the mari meet and greet so i made sure to go check that out and ?? holy shit ALL of OGSoG was there 🥺 i had actually met them before at a con years ago and it was so wild to see them again, i really didn't think i'd be able to. this meet and greet was SO much more chill than smosh just based on nerves. these 4 were honestly so sweet and the vibes were so fuckin goofy it was lovely ♡ also who's gonna tell joven that this isn't a heart

then we had the mythical kitchen panel! it was a lot of fun even tho i only rly knew trevor and josh oop. trevor was such a sweetheart and stayed after at the end to take some pics and i got one with him on my fuckin 3DS lmao. i love the crunch of this pic, it's one of my faves from the weekend tbh. also i pray to GOD that he wears this hoodie again. he looks so good in pink

but that's pretty much it! idk if anyone is even reading this so hi if u did ♡ it was such a magical week and i'm so so so fuckin grateful for it all

#smosh #shut up.txt #vidcon

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mactiir · 2 years ago

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So you want to learn to swordfight.

The most common question I see in historical fencing forums and on social media is "how do you get into HEMA?"

If you're like "what's HEMA?" -- that's Historical European Martial Arts -- it's the study and recreation of historical martial arts through weapons manuals written at the time! Many people take a scholarly approach to it -- focused on reading and recreating martial systems -- but many take a sport approach, because martial techniques are designed to be used martially! This means we're fencing -- swordfighting! Think Olympic fencing with bigger swords and slightly different rules, and more colorful gear. In this post, I will be more focused on how to get into the sporty, competition-focused side of the hobby.

Historical Fencing is a martial art! This is a really common confusion from folks who are more familiar with more well-known sword-loving communities. It's not LARPING (though I love a good LARP) -- we aren't playing characters or scenarios, and we don't dress up (usually-- rapier fencers love poofy pants, lol). It's not stage combat or SCA (although there's some community overlap)-- most of us are less interested in recreating periods or aesthetics from history than we are in learning to fence, and compete, with our weapons of choice. Although LARPing, SCA, and stage combat are all cousin hobbies to WMA, the closest analogue to Historical Fencing as a hobby is... Modern Fencing! Kendo and blade-focused Eastern Martial arts, like Kenjutsu, are also much more like historical fencing than SCA is.

Whether you're considering starting longsword fencing because your favorite author uses it as a reference, rapier fencing because it's the coolest weapon in your favorite video game, or just because you think it'd be sick as hell (it is), here's a (noncomprehensive) FAQ for becoming your very own sword lesbian/broadsword bisexual/greatsword gay/spear queer.

I don't know if there are any classes near me, where do I look?

The best place to start is the Hema Alliance Club Finder. You can use it to look up classes and sparring groups in your immediate geographic area.

2. The Club closest to me doesn't offer the weapon I'm interested in. Should I still go?

Yes. Most clubs are "longsword" clubs, but it’s really rare to find a historical fencer that exclusively fences a single system or weapon. Even if nobody at the club fences the system you're interested in, you can 1) probably talk them into it and 2)fencing not-your-weapon will still make you better at your-weapon. My club is a "longsword" club, but we have fencers who regularly do saber, rapier, rapier and dagger, messer, messer and buckler, side sword and buckler, katana, broadsword, spear, and even montante (greatsword). Just ask!

3) The nearest club is too far away. Can I learn just by studying manuals online?

Yes and no. I don’t recommend doing lots of solo practice without having attended a class. It's a good way to engrain bad habits, as well as avoid fencing altogether ("i cant spar yet, my form isn't perfect/ive learned bad habits" or worse, "i don’t need to spar, i know all the manuals inside and out"). This is a really important point: LEARNING TO MOVE A SPECIFIC WEAPON IS LESS THAN 30% OF FENCING, and you will be moving through guards and forms like a pro with only a few months of intentional practice. Your cut form can be picture-perfect and you will still get wrecked in a bout if you don't have experience. Most of fencing is understanding timing, distance, your psychology and your opponent's, and knowing from experience which positions you can get to from what other positions. You can only learn to fence by... fencing. Now, if your thing is studying arms manuals and replicating them picture-perfect, which some people are into, more power to you! But it won't be winning you any tournaments, and I am writing this assuming you want to do the sporty/swordfighty side of things.

4) wait, there are books on swordfighting?

Yes. Check Wiktenauer. Most of them are free. My club does Joachim Meyer; Fiore and Lichtenauer are also fairly common for longsword.

5) I really can't get to classes, though. Am I just out of luck?

Is there an Olympic fencing group nearby? How about lightsaber fencing? No, seriously. Kendo? Boxing? All of these things train the exact skills that are difficult to learn in HEMA fencing -- distance, timing, reaction speed, fight psychology. Some of the best beginners I've ever sparred came from lightsaber, or kendo. If there is no group nearby at all, pick up a copy of Meyer's art of combat and a 12-inch length of steel pipe (it's the same weight as a longsword) to learn how to move the sword (do NOT hit people with this, oh my god), go to kendo for a few months, and you'll be in decent shape for WMA sparring when you can get to a group.

The reason HEMA is fun is because of the community! Even if it's a really intense commute, try to make it to class at least once or twice. You will enjoy it more, you will learn more, and you will fence better. Don't just do it all on your own! Most of the people in these groups have fallen into the common mistakes so YOU don't have to. Utilize them!

6) What do I do if there are no people to spar with nearby?

Why don't you start a group? Purpleheart armory sells foam swords for like $50 each. Get some friends, get everybody a mask and a boffer and get to it! This is how HEMA as a hobby started -- people messing around with foam trainers and a copy of a 16th century arms manual.

6.5) I'm sparring outside of a club -- should we use synthetics, wood, or steel?

Dude, just use foam until you can get a complete steel kit. Keep in mind: synthetics can be as dangerous as steel, wood is MORE dangerous than steel, and steel requires full safety kit for full speed sparring. Don't break your fingers because you wanted to look cool. These things HURT, and can cause serious injury unless used with intention.

7) should I buy a sword?

If you're with a HEMA school, they will have their own cadence for buying gear, and the sword is usually the last thing you get. You should only buy a federschwert (training sword) once you know your style and sword preference. If you're not following a club cadence or planning to attend a tournament, Do Not buy a steel weapon. A full steel spar kit costs like $800 dollars, and without a full safety kit all you have is a $300 wall ornament nobody can use.

And don't buy a blunt, please. Beginners love blunts because they look like "real swords". They also break bones. Federschwerts are standard in the community and nobody is going to think you’re cool for showing up with a weapon designed to snap someone's humerus in half. If you're that twisted about it, Sigi forge sells schiltless feders that look like "real" swords (a feder is a real sword, but I digress).

8) what safety gear should I buy?

Every club and tournament has its own recommendations. Look at the Mid-Continental HEMA Open rules for a very standard list of gear reqs for a reputable tournament. Generally, in this order, it's:

-mask (don't point a sword at anyone without one of these on)

-chest plastron (for preventing unfortunate accidents that might send shards through the lungs)

-gorget (rigid or semi-rigid)

-hardshell gloves (don't do lacrosse gloves or other soft gloves for longsword, you'll break your fingers)

-puncture-resistant jacket

-forearms/elbows

-shins/knees

-back of head protector (concussions bad)

-pants/skirt

-sword

I probably missed something but these are the most common questions-- fellow HEMAists or interested parties, lmk if I missed anything! Happy fencing!

#Historical Fencing #Hema #Historical European martial arts #Longsword #Two hander #Western martial arts #Longsword fencing #Fencing #Rapier #Rapier fencing #Sword and buckler #Swordfighting #Real swordfighting #messer

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catofoldstones · 10 months ago

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j0ns@ isnt 100% to me but stans disbelieving in the ashford tourney interpretations now because it didnt fit what they wanted makes me lol now its invalid by having robert arryn when its not supposed to be a 100% recreation, harrold harryn is too much coincidence that it signals sans@'s suitors ,saying the final targaryen suitor died is coping because like Valarr Targaryen, jon also just died the difference is he'll get resurrected

my favourite excuse is "well nobody married lady ashford" well duh its a tourney,it might not even happen in a romantic light more for desperate political reasons the denial is hysterical

Hi anon,

I understand their need to constantly be “debunking” the theory because how dare Sansa have a parallel in another book and thereby be an important character in the series as a whole😤

I don’t think Robert Arryn is the chink in the armour they think he is. With all of Sansa’s previous suitors & Harry, there have been concrete plots to get her married to them. She was officially betrothed to Joffrey (the Baratheon suitor) before the Tyrells brought in Willas (the Tyrell suitor) and were actively planning to spirit her away to Highgarden right under the Lannisters’ noses, only for them to catch wind of the plan (if it can even be put that way) and forcefully get Sansa married to Tyrion (the Lannister suitor). As for Harry, Baelish’s northern plan comes into play which rests on the heels of Sansa getting married to Harry. Not to mention Hardyng is a pretty unknown House to just throw in, dontcha think?

Lysa brings up Sweetrobin in passing, with no plan or even an actual intention to marry them. This is literally never brought up again when Lysa is alive, or even after. The only one repeating any similar sentiment is Sweetrobin himself, who has a crush on Sansa but clearly doesn’t know what it means. So should we take Sweetrobin as a valid suitor? I mean, do crushes count? Because then why not include a whole legion of other Westerosi men who are interested in Sansa and make it a watertight argument. Baelish absolutely wants to marry Sansa, he even asked Cersei for Sansa’s hand in marriage, why isn’t he included? “Because…” yeah you’re there. My point is, the arguments against Baelish & SR are both strong but take a step back to what they have in common, Sansa’s story is leading somewhere else and thematically neither of them fit. One is less serious than the other & thats SR. Be fr with your SR arguments jesus.

Moreover, the Ashford theory and Sansa’s suitors don’t have to be perfect analogues of each other. Hell, we know nothing about Lady Ashford except that she’s 13 and involved in a tourney that was disrupted, and that Sansa is 13 and involved in a tourney that will be disrupted. Man, does this girl have to be named Pansa Ptark now for it to be a valid parallel? Why does George even bother naming his books, he should start calling them the war of the roses and be done with it. Why are we even reading political fiction, let’s just open today’s newspaper. Tf.

And I don’t think I can add anything to the Jon - Targaryen suitor theories that hasn’t been proposed + your points too. We consider R + L = J to be true, first and foremost. The “white guardian”, “dark hair” “the Targaryen suitor being dead” etc etc. In the same vein as the argument above, does he need to be named Jonnel/Jonos now to be taken seriously? Well, he is in another parallel but even that is “reaching” so what can I say? 🤷‍♀️ They’re not going to see what they don’t want to see, but, like you said, watching them jump through hoops and perform mental gymnastics and open a whole circus in the process is truly hilarious lol.

You do bring up an excellent argument, anon, that all of Sansa’s previous suitors have been for her claim to the North, so her marriage with Jon might also be for political reasons. However, the slight exception of Joffrey who was a King in his own right (lmao) exists; which again sort of foils Jon and his actual claim to the iron throne. So I feel that while a political marriage is totally on the cards (solves one too many problems for my liking 😤), Sansa might marry him out of love considering her theme of independence and not-marrying-for-claim. But who am I to say 🤷‍♂️

Lastly, nobody crowned Lady Ashford the queen of love and beauty so Sansa isn’t marrying anyone is sort of funny. Well, Loras gave Sansa a red rose amongst all the young maidens present there, are they a foreshadowed endgame pairing now? Also, how does one come up with Sansa is gonna end up as Lady of the Vale by marrying HH and Sansa is going to end up alone in the same breath?

#ashford tourney #sansa stark #jon snow #jonsa #asoiaf #hedge knight #also how are y’all a-ok with Sansa marrying SR but not Jon because eww incest #she’s equally related to both of them #long post #lol #can I ever shut up?#anon asks t

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unionizedwizard · 7 months ago

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(hercule poirot voice) ze psychology! monsieur! this is the point! you must understand the psychology!

so. about the psychology:

1) why in hell would my mother attempt to poison me via a book? like what was the POINT?

- i highly doubt this was meant to kill me. first of all because there would have been easier and safer methods to do so, as my friend pointed out; secondly because this is a pattern (the infamous case of the "infant abandoned on the sidewalk for an entire day before being returned by the neighbors at nightfall" comes to mind, among others.....), she loved neglecting me and endangering/ignoring my safety; thirdly because i guess my unnatural and inexplicable survival skills must come from somewhere...

- but mostly because i think i was more use to her alive than dead. firstly because me dying would have put her in danger of being suspected by the authorities (possibly. honestly i'm not too confident the cops would have investigated in the first place but you never know), and her chief concern was always social respectability and her reputation. and secondly because she needed to have someone to exert her power upon. i was challenging her authority, unlike her husband, and she did enjoy breaking me. it was something she said & made obvious very often btw, not me having heard too many fictional villain monologues. (maybe i like unhinged villain monologues because they remind me of home, tho........)

- so why the poison? why this?? i think it was some sort of enrichment for her. she always found it hilarious to see people suffer (she always talked gleefully about the awful things she put her students through, like humiliating them, making them cry and panic, banning them from slouching or using the bathroom or drinking water in class....), whether it was strangers or people she knew personally. she found it genuinely entertaining and openly despised people who did not ("stupid and sanctimonious people" she called them)

- she didn't consider me as my own person, she openly and constantly reminded me i was her creation and therefore her possession, and a disappointing, useless failure of a creation at that. she would have considered it normal to use me as an experiment subject. it was well within her rights according to her. (she was especially fond of telling people (while i was sitting right there) that when i was born and the nurse put me in her arms, she took one look at me and said "oh well, this one's a failure. better luck next time"). like i know how this sounds but it was just. normal at the time. just a fun anecdote to tell (in her defense i was a weird and disappointing baby) (but anyway this is neither here nor there)

- i will read queen margot to learn more about the poisoned book that's part of the plot, apparently, but as i said in my original post about this whole thing, she LOVED recreating random book events or dialogue in real life, and subtly. the metanarrative dramatic flair...... i think she would definitely get a kick out of seeing me suddenly get sick without knowing why, while holding the very clue that could lead me to the answer of the mystery. that is 100000% something she would do.

- she hated the fact i was really into literature because it was *her thing*, and kept sabotaging my efforts by convincing me i actually didn't know how to "truly read, not just consume and destroy books". (i will stop there but there's a lot of things to be said on the topic). she gave me very few books, growing up, so this gift and especially her forcing me to finish reading the novel were highly out of character for her

- i'm hazarding a guess which might be a bit over-the-top here but: it might also have been meant as a deterrent. conditioning me to have an averse reaction to reading or something (she *was* very fond of dumas)

- finally, why the three musketeers? i can think of three points that would make this novel the perfect candidate for such a project: 1) it is a typical, inconspicuous gift for an 11 years old (even though it didnt fit my own tastes); 2) it is an uncommonly long novel, meaning exposure to any potential poison would be particularly high; 3) as mentioned before, it would have been thematically perfect: a clue, that only she would have known about (she does like her tragic irony and double énonciation and mindgames in general)

genuinely, it does fit with her personality. i think she would have found it a way to have a bit of fun and conduct a nice little experiment + power trip combo.

#the poisoned book saga

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agentbobr · 2 years ago

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Uhm so hi..

Sorry im not very good with social interaction but id like to request the rottmnt turtles with their crush or y/n and they found out that they drew them

Sorry if its a strange request!!

ah don't apologize! got nothing to apologize for anyways <3, also definitely not strange tbh i think most people who draw (me included) end up drawing their crush lol, also sorry if mikey is ooc! ive never really written him :')

🎨🖌️ Raph had a crush on you for a looong time, and it wasn't well hidden at all!

🎨🖌️ But alas, when your in love you never notice all the signs~

🎨🖌️ One day while you and Raph are hanging out, him training off on the side and you drawing him sneakily

Sitting in the garage, with Raph off to the left lifting some weight while talking about the latest villian he'd smashed, listening to him talk so passionately was always so.... inspiring? definitely a nice sound to listen to while drawing that's for sure!

"And than Leo went in all... all swords blazing! he was porting left and right, it was awesome! and then, Donnie-"

and than a crash sounded thoughout the lair before- "(y/n) I am....SO sorry!" Mikey called out, sighing before getting up, you leave your sketchbook where you were sitting before going to check what Mikey was sorry for, leaving Raph alone, with his curiosity of what you were drawing becoming waaaay to big and him snooping

Raph looked at only a few pages! before he got to the drawings of him and he's impressed! he knows it's hard to draw his figure properly but you did it well, there was one drawing that left him fluster though.... of him and you, snuggling under the moonlight with little doodle hearts drawn around it! i mean he's happy as hell because that means you like him back but he's also as red as his mask at that thought!, but all his guilt comes round when you come back and see him. with your book. and him trying to hide behind it while blushing....

🎨🖌️ We open the scene on Leo, posing like a king, eating grapes.

🎨🖌️ He had paid you in pizza to draw him as "royally and stunning as you can"

🎨🖌️ ...And having to yelling at him to keep still or it'll ruin the portrait...

"Look, all you have to do is keep still for a bit longer!" You regret taking the pizza.

"But my arm is getting tired!~" His whining becoming louder per minute, any chance to take a break from this would be taken as a blessing-

and just as that thought was finished, your phone rang, an exit from having to draw this- this....cute dumbass! just as you walk out to take the call though, Leo springs up to go snooping...

"OHOHOHO!..... Woah this is good....really caught my flamboyant charm!~" and just as flips to the previous page in the book, his face goes red. A drawing of him and you. Together. KISSING. this is to much, but also so very perfect!

As soon as you come back in the room, he recreates the drawing- dipping you into an embrace before quickly kissing you....then going back to his pose for the drawing.....FUCKING HELL LEO-

🎨🖌️ Now Donnie only needed you expertise this one time, he needed someone to help him come up with a design for his latest invention to really make it ✨shine✨

🎨🖌️ What he didn't expect was you to have so many ideas!, I mean who would think of a geometric diamond detailing? that's GENIUS!

🎨🖌️ So obviously, he does the only right thing and looks through your book for other ideas-

One second you're talking about designs, the next you're having to practically climb walls to reach Donnie, who had mischievously taken your book and used his battle shell's engine(??) to fly up and out of your reach.

"Come on Donnie!, Give it- WAH!- Give it back!" You say, almost falling off of the support beam in the room mid sentence,

He scoffs "But think of all the ideas I could think of off of your own drawings!" And as he turn the next page, he goes stiff as a plank and falls to the floor.

He saw it. The stupid cartoonish doodle of him surrounded by hearts and small 'ily's, simply glancing over at him would reveal he's completely shut down and red faced, only does he get up around 5 minutes later to slowly sit down next to you and wraps his pinky around yours.

"if....if you'd like, we could try....this" he says while gesturing at both of you with his hand fastly. You smile.

🎨🖌️ Who would of thought that exchanging artbooks with Mikey could go so...wrong?

🎨🖌️ You have a shared artbook with him, and being a bit forgetful, you accidentally gave him your private sketchbook instead of the shared one! oops....

🎨🖌️ And before you could realize, he saw it.

You wake up at around 1am to your phone ringing, without thinking you answer groggily "h...hello?" you say before quietly yawning, "heyyyy bestie!....soooo...I think, you gave me the wrong book earlier..."

And now. Now you're awake and alert, "which one did i give you? the...the one with the stickers on it or the one with hearts?" Silence was heard over the line before some shuffling is heard.... "The one with the hearts!, You draw me so well!" He gushes....he...he liked the drawings! The drawings of you and him....living domestically together....oh oh wowee....

"you... actually liked them?" You asked nervously, "of course i did! tomorrow you should come over and we can bake like in one of the pages! wanna call it a date?" He says playfully but the date part...that part was serious, a clean cut and honest question.

"absolutely!" it's a date, a sweet delicious date.

hope you enjoyed! asks are open currently as of (2/14/23)

#agentbobr #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #valentines day

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theknightmarket · 2 years ago

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um i really wanna see a fic where damian takes care and looks after da. idk maybe da is sick but came to work anyways. maybe they were overwoking themself and eventually collapse. maybe they get injured somehow. just our dear mayor being concerned for them and looking after them

"You're too stubborn to die."

In which Damien helps the DA in a compromised state.

TW: angst, injury, blood

Pages: 15 - Words: 6,000

[Requests: OPEN]

A regular Sunday for the mayor of Los Angeles was, surprisingly, incredibly similar to that of any other thirty-year-old working man. It was one of Damien’s only days off in the month, and he treasured them like the holy grail; if his job was to hold endless amounts of paperwork, incessant meetings with countless people, and public speeches to bore the masses and himself, then his day off would be filled with as many relaxing activities as possible.

Damien wandered around the apartment, a watering can in one hand and his cane in the other. The doctor had long since said that he didn’t need it anymore, and that his insistence that he did was only psychosomatic, but it was more than that. To him, it was a grounding tool. If things got rough, and, in his profession, it was more of a when, he could grip tightly onto the stick and find comfort in the stability of it. Metal is not an easy material to break, and he much preferred it to messing with his jacket’s edges or cuffs. That meant, no matter how many of his veins popped through paled skin, it would always be there for him.

Now, though, he was content. The sun was shining, the windows let a blissful breeze flow through, and there was the distant hum of the radio from the kitchen. It couldn’t be more perfect. Sundays were always this way, like entering another dimension where famine had been decimated, all wars ended with the flick of a pen, greed, pride, envy wiped off the map. Even the air he breathed felt lighter.

There was a bounce in Damien’s step as he moved around, singing quietly along to the tune and thinking about his next projects. Getting all of the plants watered was number seven on his checklist – and, yes, it was in his back pocket while he went through the motions – but with only nine left to go, he thought he could get some recreation in. Maybe pick up a new book, you were raving on about ‘The Mysterious Rider’ yesterday, or he could swing by Celine’s place. Though, that place always did give him the creeps…

And you were going to be back in an hour.

The memory still made him smile, how could it not? He had been so excited but so nervous to ask you on a date, he’d double-checked and triple-checked and one more check for good measure. Hell, he’d planned the day out to a T, given that you’d even say yes. But Celine had convinced him you would, so he prepared flowers, reservations, outfits, all so that nothing could go wrong.

Then everything went wrong. He didn’t like focusing on that aspect of the story, it only made him wonder how he ever got you to go out with him again, but it all ended in a pretty fun evening, if he did say so himself. You’d assured him that it wasn’t all for naught, and that you’d had a good time, going so far as to ask if he was free a couple nights after. That one night turned into three nights, and then nights turned into days, and then, after a good few months, you’d gone right ahead and moved in together.

This was your apartment, too, it was where you came back to every evening with a tired smile and ready to have dinner together – and this night was to be no different.

Or Damien thought, until that hour passed, and he remained the only person in the room. But that was fine! He could hold out, and you probably only got caught in traffic or something. It just gave him time to get started on that book. It was absolutely nothing to worry about.

After taking it gently from the shelf, he settled onto the couch, a pillow behind his head and comfortable in evening clothes. The first sentence crossed his eyes, and he took in all the information he could as he read through the first chapter. It left him with questions, but that was fine, because you still weren’t back. Another half hour passed, and when he looked back up from the pages, he noticed that he had unconsciously shifted to be angled towards the front door. He tried to tell himself that everything was alright, he didn’t have to worry, work was probably just getting the best of you. Lord knows he wasn’t one to talk.

So, Damien kept reading, and when his eyes started to strain and holding up the book was too large of a chore, he went and made a cup of coffee. This was the first time you’d been late home, and what kind of partner would he be if he was asleep when you, surely, came back.

Minutes later, he was sipping idly at the kitchen island. The window across from him showed shimmers of orange and red, the cityscape of Los Angeles almost teasing him where he stood. You were out there somewhere, and he felt lousy not knowing where that was.

He took another sip.

The wall-mounted clock ticked by. Seconds felt like hours, and every one that dropped into the bucket pushed him closer to the edge. His jacket swayed on the hook, his shoes just below them. It would be so easy to get a cab over to your building and check how you’re getting on – you’d be hunched over your desk, taking a call from precinct cops who couldn’t do their jobs right, and then you’d see him, and you’d apologize for not getting back. He’d be fine with it, of course, and he’d end up helping you in the case that had its claws in you.

Oh, but he knew that he couldn’t do that. His heart thudded in his chest, his hands shook, but he respected your boundaries. It’d only been a month since you moved in, after all, and he didn’t want to overstep anything that quickly. Heaving a not-so-relaxing sigh, he vowed that he would stay right there in the apartment until you got back, no matter how long it took you.

By the third hour, he was starting to reconsider that.

The soles of his shoes were burned into the wooden flooring, his pacing surely annoying the neighbors below, but he could care less. Show him that you were alive and well, and he’d stop, but he had yet to see any clue as to your wellbeing, so they’d have to deal with it. He hated this, he hated this so much. Pointless waiting and irreverent, troublesome thoughts. They had no use to him, but he didn’t know how to get rid of them. They burrowed into his mind like an infestation of roaches or disease.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. He was going to throw that clock out of the window if he didn’t get ahold of himself. But what else was there to do? He’d completed all of his chores, even the ones he promised to leave for the next day, and he found himself waiting like a puppy at the front door. His eyes wavered over it, hoping for it to open just an inch to show he wasn’t stuck in purgatory.

Whatever higher power there was seemed to take pity on Damien, because not two seconds later, the creak of old wood broke the ticking of the clock. He almost sprung to his feet and launched himself at you when you entered, but he held himself back, if not for decorum, then for the sight of you. You were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes upon, but he was not one to lie to himself; right now, you looked terrible. Your skin tone had lightened so much that you appeared ill, and your chest was rising quicker than before. Were you sick or had working three hours after your shift finally got to you? Damien didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Taking care of these symptoms was his top priority.

“Darling?” he called out, still restraining himself from rushing to your side.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you lugged yourself towards the bedroom, completely dismissing hunger. You were far too tired to think about that, the bed, comfy cushions, and a warm blanket calling to you.

Damien caught your arm before you could get too far, though, with a concerned grimace playing on his lips. “Are you alright?”

He sounded worried, and that was the last thing you wanted – never mind the fact that it was well-warranted – so you heaved a tiny smile and muttered, “I’m fine, love, just tired.”

He still wasn’t satisfied, that was obvious, but you weren’t paying attention to that. A kiss on his forehead from you, a noise of discontentment from him, and you were on your way to the bedroom, trying to focus on your feet as to not trip over warping wood. Everything was slowly fading away at the edges of your vision, consumed by blackness and turning the rest fuzzy.

You knew exactly why this was happening, you knew it was bad, but no way in hell would you let Damien know. You loved him more than anything on the earth, but he was bound to worry about you more than necessary. You’d be fine, you silently promised him. You had to be.

Nearly six hours later, the moon was high in the sky, casting a shimmer of gray dust across the landscape. Light reflected off of windows, night walkers stumbled over rocks, and dogs howled in the alleyways. Patters of rain caressed against the city, warning of a dreary but calm morning.

Even with that promise, Damien couldn’t sleep. He had work in the morning, his day off having ended at the stroke of midnight, and yet the thought of leaving you in the apartment was horrifying. You had knocked out the second your head hit the pillow, leaving him to his thoughts, and they centered around just one thing: were you alright? He couldn’t believe you were just tired, since you’d woken up bright and early the morning before. He was almost insulted you thought he’d fall for that, but he was too worried to mind.

He dragged a hand through his hair. It tickled at the nape of his neck, though he hardly cared. What if something was wrong? Really wrong? His heart thrummed against his ribcage, like if it hit hard enough, you’d wake up and tell him what was wrong. But his ribs didn’t crack, and you didn’t wake up, and Damien was left sitting in the armchair by the window with tired eyes. This wasn’t doing any good, and the sun was due to rise in a few hours; he figured he might as well make you both some breakfast.

Damien shuffled out of the bedroom, a dark robe swaying across the floor and his cane stepping beside him. He held it tight while he made his way to the kitchen, where he noticed blurry chatter. He started confused, which quickly morphed into fear, and then his cheeks brightened in silent embarrassment. What he had thought was a robber was just the radio he had forgotten to shut off. He was glad you weren’t awake to see him creep around the corner, stick raised to thwack however was in there.

He turned the volume down and went to work. After so many times missing breakfast, Damien wasn’t sure what to make, so he decided on the only thing he knew how to decently cook – waffles, and even then, there was a chance they would come out burnt.

The crack of eggs and dust of flour was comforting in a way to him that only a childhood meal could be. In the earliest hours of the day, there would be no consequence to adding a gram more sugar than needed or cooking them for a second too long. The waffle iron steamed and sizzed in front of him once the batter was poured on, almost making him laugh. He let himself smile for the first time that day, the sense of warmth and lightness filling him.

“It has come to our attention that – last night, at the Dimmock Public Health Centre – the district attorney of Los Angeles was shot in an attempted assassination—”

Damien’s smile collapsed.

“—The D.A was rushed back to a car that was seen heading away from the scene, while police were contacted to find the assassin. We have not heard back from our sources about their wellbeing, but we have been assured that they are no longer in danger. Despite this, there has been speculation as to their current location and the reaction of federal agents—”

His own heartbeat cut off the radio, pounding against his head like an overzealous drummer. The smell of burnt food wafted into his nose, his vision toppled over the edge, his hands sweat, his feet moved before his mind could catch up. You weren’t ill, you weren’t overworked, you were shot. And he didn’t realize, and you didn’t tell him, and you weren’t waking up.

You weren’t waking up.

His cane slammed against the footboard, but you didn’t stir, not even a huff. He would have begged for you to groan or berate him or say anything, but you didn’t. You stayed quiet, and Damien’s breathing grew louder.

He tossed himself to your side, strew the bedsheets across the floor and saw, red as a rose, blood. It seeped into the fabric, like bacteria overcoming a wound. God, your wound. Normally, he would ask your permission to lift your shirt, but this was urgent, so he disregarded the crimson staining his hands and pulled the hem up.

Tears flooded his eyes as fear flooded his heart. A lazy medical patch had been slapped onto the entry hole, half of it having peeled off already and the other bled through. Damien had never trusted the medical professionals present during speeches, and this only deepened his distaste for them – but he’d deal with them later. For now, he had to wake you up.

First, he whispered shakily, “Come on, wake up, dear.”

No response. He tried again.

“Dear, please.”

No response.

“C’mon, you have to wake up, please.”

No response—

A cough.

You were alive, you were panicked, but you were alive. Eyes shot open and limbs rushing to get you out of bed, but you were stopped short by your own hiss. It felt like you had been shot again, more tissue and muscle ripped through with no regard for the nerves there – it made you think the bullet had been laced with something, hellfire, poison, but no. Dismally, you remembered the paramedics removing the metal as quick as they could, but speed was favored over kindness. The hole pricked again in response.

Coming down from the small adrenaline high, your eyes focused back in on Damien, who kneeled in front of you. He looked worse for wear, and you wondered if he had been injured, too. This wasn’t true, of course, and the drop of his shoulders gave you some relief, though the slight wet patches dripping onto his cheeks had you furrowing your brows.

“A-are you okay?” you mumbled, tentatively grasping his hand.

A weak chuckle tumbled out of him, fading like the whizz of a stone dropped down a cavern. He squeezed your hand tighter, remaining wary of your state, and asked, “Are you?”

Your attempt to nod was interrupted by a rack of coughs shaking your very body. They didn’t stop, not even when pain splintered away from your wound and all breath vacated your lungs. You weren’t fine, that much was obvious, but, when you’d calmed down from the fit, you settled on staying quiet.

Damien had been your friend for the majority of your life, but, after a year at the very most, it was obvious how much he worried. If you told him there was a crack in the pavement, he’d cross the street to avoid tripping – and if you told him that you were at risk of passing out from pain, you’d be suffocated from his fear. He was such a mother hen; the thought nearly made you laugh but you stopped yourself before you could be overwhelmed by coughs again.

The man sighed at your silence. Unbeknownst to you, not giving him an answer was making him more scared as the seconds ticked by. He pushed away stray hairs that had fallen into your face, trying to see the truth in your eyes. Comforting, obviously masking injury, you stared right back.

“We have to get you to the hospital.”

If it were Damien in your place, you’d agree in a heartbeat, but you were the one lying in bed, blood sticking clothes to your side. Your partner, however, was the mayor of Los Angeles, they could barely go a day without him. You didn’t want to risk taking up his precious time, when some disaster could strike that he’d have to report on. In your mind, it made the most sense for you to go about your daily lives and for you to just deal with it throughout the day. The shot wasn’t that bad, and you’d seen bills for a paper cut before.

Considering this, you found it in yourself to clear your throat and reply, “No, we don’t, I’ll be fine.”

“We have to get your wound checked out, I mean,” he gestured vaguely to the stained area, “those medics were clearly frauds- they didn’t even dress it right, and it’s coming off already, and you’re bleeding—”

You pulled his hands closer to you, fingers curling around his own in a silent reminder to calm down. His volume was steadily rising, which meant his heart rate was, too, and you knew how he got when he was overwhelmed. These past hours had already put more strain on him than you had wanted.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeated, offering a smile. He responded in kind, but his was more placating than agreeable, “if it was anything to worry about, I’d be in the hospital, now, wouldn’t I?”

Damien mulled this over in his mind. On one hand, your logic was sound, as always, and arguing with you had long since proved a fruitless venture. On the other, he didn’t like the thought of leaving you to your devices, as if you’d never been injured in the first place. What if something happened to you and you didn’t notice? With nothing else to do, he decided on a compromise.

“Okay,” he conceded, and, for a second, you thought yourself safe – you might have even gotten down to the offices for some paperwork – but Damien’s hands darted to the discarded sheets and re-tucked them around you.

Damien was going to look after you himself.

He was scarily efficient in how he moved around the room, gathering spare pillows, blankets, anything that would make you feel more comfortable in the bed. By the end of his little escapade, you looked more like a bird in a nest than a human. You couldn’t deny how proud he looked, though, and it would be easy to let your eyelids slip down for a few more minutes…

But you snapped to your senses and summonsed your will to talk. “Don’t you have to go into work today?”

He paused, back turned to you, at his position drawing the blinds. “…Not necessarily.”

“Damien,” you drawled.

The hairs on the nape of his neck pricked up and his face felt the power of a furnace. “Well,” spinning around, he did poorly at hiding his blush, “technically, yes, I do – but the office can handle work without me, just for today.” He slid into place beside you, resting a hand onto your shoulder. “You are more important.”

Normally, you’d jump at the opportunity to spend more time with your partner. Your schedules weren’t exactly kind in allowing you to be together, and moments with him were treasured more than those without. However, at this second, your eyebrows furrowed, and your lips pouted. Most of the time, you’d be forced to get rest, confined to bed while Damien ran errands to ease your weary soul. That was the last thing you wanted, and the only way to convince him to hold back would be to get him out of the apartment entirely. Besides, this wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be, you were sure.

As if he could sense your resistance, Damien whispered, “I still have three hours until I go. I’ll take care of you, and then we’ll assess the situation.”

Sneaky. Damien might have been reserved and shy in public, but you have seen you’ve seen your fair share of his mischievous, sly side. Despite hardly ever getting practice, he was worryingly good at getting what he wanted via cunning means. You both respected and feared that aspect of him.

He left a kiss on your forehead, now, and rose from the bed to restart his preparations. If he had the time, he would’ve crafted some kind of checklist, but getting you a glass of water and medical equipment was top priority. That, and salvaging what he could from those burning waffles.

When he was back at your side again, your eyes having slipped closed once or twice, skin being tugged away from muscle caught your attention. The patch had been badly applied, but adhesive remained against the wound that meddled with blood slowly spurting out of the cracks. Divots sprang red and raised flesh curled around the hole like a mountain range. It made Damien’s stomach squirm and flip, but he focused his expression to clean the area.

As you looked down at the man, ruffled dark hair a mess from stressing and still in his robe, your heart swelled with love. He was your partner, and it was crazy to think you were his. Even after four months, everything felt like a haze, a dream you were scared to wake up from, because you knew nothing would come close to this. Carefully, you shifted your arm to caress Damien’s cheek.

He glanced back up at you quizzically, a look you only returned with a smile. Shaking his head, he returned to his work slightly more comforted than he was before.

Nearly half an hour passed in this fashion; Damien patted off the dried blood, replaced that medical path with a bandage around your waist, and managed to get your mind off of the wound with excerpts from ‘The Mysterious Rider’. You appreciated everything he was doing, down to the way he’d pause when he noticed your eyes drooping. Most of the time, you would shake yourself awake again with a yawn, but there were the odd times when you felt yourself drift off for seconds at a time. These bouts of fatigue never lasted long, and, while you were thankful for the brief rest, the expression on Damien’s face had you staying awake longer.

Every time the curtains closed even slightly, a mix of emotions spurred in him, melting over his eyes, and giving you a first-row seat to his thoughts. Half of him was glad to see you comfortable enough in this nest, it liked seeing you warm and sappy – but the other half was always scared that it might have been the last time you’d close your eyes, as if he hadn’t done a good enough job to keep you alive, and it would be all his fault that you… slipped. But that all wiped away when they opened again, revealing your familiar and welcoming irises. Full of life.

Even though you both knew how he felt, he prefaced the start of the next chapter with, “You can fall asleep, you know.”

You couldn’t deny the fact that you were tired – getting shot would do that to you – but worrying Damien any more than he already was, was at the bottom of your bucket list. So, you lightly shook your head and replied, “Nope, I’m so awake, I could—”

You were, helpfully, cut off by a yawn. Damien looked at you from his armchair, unimpressed, but you continued, nevertheless, “—I could finish a case. Maybe go back to work, in fact.”

At this, he became alert, the sharp spike of fear prodding him in the side. “No, not yet.”

“Damien,” you pleaded.

“I said ‘no’.” As he stood, his cane felt like an earthquake against the wooden flooring. Inwardly, you sighed; you’ve never liked getting into arguments with him, mostly because he was normally the one in the right, but it was unavoidable. Damien had work in two hours, and getting there was a quarter of that, and, before that, there was changing into his uniform. He was neglecting doing any of these to take care of you, and you found it hard not voicing your opinion about that.

“Look,” you started, sitting up straighter in the bed, “how about we do a test run?”

Damien stopped himself from getting through the doorway to listen to what you had to say. Still, he was thinking through getting a cold rag in case of a fever, but most of his attention was directed towards your proposition.

You continued, tentatively, “You go on a walk, alright?” Disagreement stirred inside him the second ‘go’ came out of your mouth, which you could see and began battling immediately, “And we’ll see how I get on alone.”

He thought over the scenario, practically moving his head to the direction of his thoughts, until he rushed to your side and kneeled down. Your hand was soon encapsulated in his fingers, warm and worried. “What if something goes wrong?”

“It won’t,” you promised, leaning forward to peck at his lips. Really, you couldn’t be sure it would be alright, but it was worth trying just to see the blissful and hope-ridden look on Damien’s face. “It’s not like I’m going to die if you’re away for two seconds, love.”

With one more sigh and a slightly longer kiss for good luck, he began to get ready for a walk outside.

Five minutes in, Damien was spiraling.

His tolerance for being away from you had plummeted since the day before, and the glum of the streets was getting to him. It was indeed raining, turning his polished boots gritty from dust swept through the pathways, and it was difficult to discern what were droplets from the sky or from his skin. Despite the cold brushing against him, the worry he was experiencing was sending him into overdrive. He couldn’t tell if he was warm or cool if he was still walking or if he had made it past the first few steps to your apartment. It felt like he was having withdrawals, but there was no way he’d go back. Not only would he still be scared for you, but the disappointment you’d feel seeing him was something he’d do anything to avoid.

So, he took in a deep breath and tried to steady his beating heart. It was horrible, but he put himself through it. For you. He hoped you’d be proud, but he also hoped you’d be asleep when he returned.

The day was… nice, he supposed. Not many people were out this early, a few older gentlemen he passed with a wave, but the most popular of the species were stray dogs. One in particular he saw often when he was heading to or from work. The street had a nickname for the poor thing, and they’d elected to keep it there with spare scraps from the table or chew toys out of old pig’s ears. Benjie, if he remembered correctly, a golden lab that had been around for the last three years.

Fondly, Damien thought back on when you and the dog first interacted. He knew you loved pets, especially the over-active, wholesome ones. You’d requested him stay with you as soon as you saw him, even wagered you’d get him groomed and trained into a proper house dog. He rolled his eyes, you patted on his arm and vowed that, one day, he’d be the most pampered pup in all of Los Angeles.

But that had yet to come to fruition. Benjie was still out on the street, taking leftovers of roast dinners and maintaining a rough coat. Maybe, when this whole ideal was over, Damien would bring him home.

It was with that thought that a whole new cavalcade of bad ideas flooded his mind. They stopped him dead in his tracks, and – following that them – paled him beyond recognition. He flopped against a brick house, steadied his cane in the ridges of cobblestone and thought back on the very reason why you were in this position to begin with.

There was an attempted assassination. Someone had attempted to assassinate you. It hadn’t settled with him, until now, that someone powerful had hired a killer to end your life. And they had nearly succeeded, and you had nearly died, and—

And if they weren’t able to do it the first time, who was to say they wouldn’t try again?

Damien’s vision blurred together, buildings crumbling together and horses in the distance clicking like the trigger of a gun. He had to get back home, to you. God knows what could’ve happened to you in the time he was gone. You’d said you’d be fine, sure, but you were suffering from massive amounts of blood loss, and he loved you, but you were never the most logical person in the first place.

His feet were moving regardless of thought or will to. His eyes were clouded with possibilities and his mind overtaken by sorrow. If you weren’t okay when he got back, it would be all his fault. Why did he have to be such an idiot? He should have stayed with you, and he didn’t, and now you were suffering the consequences of his stupid choices.

He stumbled across the stones, plucked his cane from holes and brushing off the coattails of early risers. They were confused, but he didn’t care; all that mattered was getting back to you as quick as possible. Tears pricked up in the corners of his eyes, those wide windows scanning the street for your front door, and when he came to it, he all but ripped it off its hinges in order to get in.

Going two steps at a time was too slow for him but falling back down the stairs would be of no use to anyone. Still, he pushed himself to get to your apartment at a record pace. One mantra echoed through his mind while he struggled to your front door. Please, be alright. It was wish, to you, to any higher power, to anything that could better the chances.

His heart plummeted in his chest when he saw you lying on the ground.

Damien’s eyes whirled around, inspecting, for a second, for any hint as to what happened. Your arms were flattened out in front of, appearing to have cushioned your fall, and the only blood visible was what had leaked through your bandage.

Nevertheless, he fell to his knees next you, tilted your head up and looked for any other sign of injury. Hope overcoming horror, you seemed okay. Passed out, but okay, so he took his time in carefully drawing a hand up and down your body. Your heartbeat was steady and fine, your skin was barren of unexpected blemishes, and your eyelids were just beginning to flutter open again.

“Damien…?”

The second that he heard your voice, Damien captured you in a tight hug. Of course, at a hiss of pain from you, he pulled back, but you were going nowhere. The strict shift in temperature from the outside had him in whiplash and waking up with your back against the floor was doing you no better. He buried his head in your neck, both to keep you as close as possible and hide the tears beginning to flow. Not entirely sure of what was happening, you pat his back with one hand and cradled his head with another.

You shushed him and pecked at where you could, in the midst of whispering, “Hey, it’s all okay. I told you I wouldn’t die.”

Damien sobbed.

You held him tighter, an embrace solid enough to assure him you were really and truly there.

Exhale shivering in the air, he mumbled against you, “N-no, you’re… oh, you’re too stubborn to die.”

You smiled, ignoring the situation and thanking you lucky stars that you’d landed such a loving man.

“I’m here, love, everything’s okay.” Another kiss, and he lifted his head up to stare at you. Despite you being the one to have been shot, have passed out cold on the ground, you were comforting him. How had he ever gotten such a kind soul? He didn’t know, but he knew he was grateful, and that he’d do anything to keep you.

Shakily, he muttered, “Come on.” He secured his arm underneath your shoulder and lifted you to stand, against the twitching of his cane. The weight of two people was forgiven when you were up fully, and he gently sat you down at the island while he gathered your shoes and coat. “We are getting you to the hospital,” he announced, and that was that.

Being the mayor of Los Angeles had some drawbacks; long working days, the eyes of the press, social obligations – but there were definitely some advantages, not least of all being able to order anything with impunity, whether that was a public car, table at a restaurant, or being to stay in the room while nurses flittered around your partner. At this point, leaving your side felt more hellish than he expected hell to be, and, though he hated abusing his power, he was not about to wait in the hallway for the next hour.

So, by your side Damien stayed. The nurses poked and prodded at you, uncaringly prescribing you unlabeled medication, and redoing the bandages. He wasn’t ashamed to say he relaxed when they left you along, finally. At least he understood when enough was enough – or, he thought so, because if he told you that, you’d probably regard him unimpressed.

He caught your hand – noticeably less pale than it was before – in his own, and cradled it against his chest, as if fearing you’d disappear when let go. But, with you safely inside a hospital and treated by professionals, he could finally calm down. His nerves had been going haywire ever since you’d been late to dinner, but they found no reason to not settle down under his skin.

“You know, I love you.”

Damien perked up before sending a confused glance your way. Why were you telling him now? Was there something that he didn’t know? Had you been shot, had someone tried to kill you again—

“I nearly died yesterday, and,” you laughed awkwardly, as if you were telling a crude joke, “I kept thinking, what if I never get to tell you again?”

Now, he was fully turned to you, and it was then that he saw you were started to cry. He’d never seen you look like this before, wet cheeks and red eyes. His eyebrows involuntarily bent, and he squeezed your hand tighter.

You continued on, “I don’t want you to forget how I feel, and I think that if I had to live without you, I—” You cut yourself off with a sob.

Without a second thought, Damien moved to sit next to you on the bed, bringing you into his chest and cradling you as you cried. He peppered some kisses along your ear, neck, anywhere that could comfort you. He thanked his reputation for getting you a private room, lest you have to deal with people looking in to see the mayor and the district attorney communicating affection.

“I love you, too,” he responded, tone having never been more sincere.

You stayed like that until the nurses came back in, singing praises of Damien’s handiwork and pointing out your conditions. You would have to stay for a while longer, and you didn’t miss the proud smirk on your partner’s face when they told you that you should’ve come in sooner. Still, you laughed, rolled your eyes, and kissed him on the cheek. That normally shut him up, and this time was no exception.

Sighing, he sat back in his own chair, hand still caressing yours. “Do you still want me to go back to work?” he teased.

You brought Damien’s hand to you face, planted a well-intentioned kiss on the upper part of his hand, and winked. “Never.”

He felt himself lucky for being in a hospital; he was sure he could have died from a heart attack right there and then.

[Thank you so much for requesting - I'm sorry this took so long, but I'm glad that I got it out in the end! Gotta say, when I saw that I was allowed to injure the DA, I was already scheming. It did suck that I couldn't put a heart-rate monitor joke in though, since they hadn't been invented yet, but eh, the trade off is that we get nervous Damien waiting for you to come home. Again, thanks for requesting]

#request #markiplier egos #markiplier #who killed markiplier #damien #Damien x reader #DA #reader #markiplier egos x reader #wkm #wkm x reader #1920s #fanfiction #district attorney

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prismaticflare · 4 months ago

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Okay, enough with the positives, lets talk flaws. I wish I could say there weren’t any, but I am not a liar. Warning, spoilers along with swearing and excessive caps lock.

Also am being pretty blunt here. I did overall enjoy the movie a lot, but if you’re reading my criticisms, I doubt you want me to sugar coat them, so I won’t. If you don’t want the negativity, that’s totally fine! A movie doesn’t have to be perfect for you to like it, and, again, I ENJOYED THIS MOVIE! So, feel free to skip this post and enjoy the rest of my autism fueled happy rants! However, if you want to hear my honest criticism, here you go.

Firstly, ending was fucking awful. I will be making a whole post alone on it just because of how much it sucked. Also wont did into the problems with the time travel, other than one major one at the end. Time travel in ANY show is a horrible idea.

Choreography was garbage. Every single song had the same dynamic. The main singer was at the center while a triangle of backup dancers flailed around in the back. If you don’t know, I’ve done dance for a large portion of my life, and have a background in ballet among many other styles, so I know for a FACT they could have done better. And its not just that it was bad. D1-D3 were no chorographical masterpieces, but DROR felt as if it was HIGHLIGHTING IT! YOU COULD NOT ESCAPE THE JOJO SIWA ASS FLAILING. WHAT THE HELL!

That one ponytail on Bridget was a hate crime. I’ve never really been a wig snob, I though Mal’s D3 wig was fine although apparently it wasn’t, but if I can tell a wig is bad, you need to burn it.

Although Uliana (aka my wife) was the best thing in this world, the rest of the Merlin-Era VKs were meh. They tried to recreate the Sea Three dynamic and did it, but it wasn’t good. I actually liked Morgie better than Gil, but that’s because I never liked Gil as I am a firm hater on comic relief characters, and Morgie is the same exact things although he gets glowey eyes so that’s better than Gil. Hook was just Harry but boring and no longer a whore (non-derogatory), and the rest of them could be erased from the show and nothing would change.

Speaking of characters, WHAT WAS GOING ON WITH MADDOX!? I didn’t finish the newest book, but unless something CRAZY happens at the end, these are two different characters. I suspect this is another crime of Disney not telling Melissa de la Cruz enough, or maybe it was bad writing on her end (wouldn’t be the first time,) but still was lame.

Also, this might just be me, but the way they handled Carlos rubbed me the wrong way, although that was a decision from the wedding animation that I always hated. They could have just pretended they never did that, but I understand why they didn’t. Still made me hella uncomfy.

As of now I think that’s about everything, although there were quite a few minor things. I won’t list them all off as I don’t want to nitpick, but just to name a few…

Flamingo CGI hurt my eyes

So This Is Love was D1 Be Our Guest coded (derogatory)

Tried too hard to recreate D1-D3 although they actually had a fine plot without it

Uliana’s “perfect revenge” was boring. Go with Hades’ idea and burn her. Much better (also will mention this in ending chapter)

IDK how a sequel (which they hinted at) would work since they literally said Mal, Ben, Jay, and Evie are just on a trip. Are they not gonna come back?

Speaking of which, such a lazy excuse. Just say they died. If you did it for Carlos, you can do it for them

Didn’t have my bbgrl Lonnie

See you soon for my final part of this chat. The one I hate the most. The End

#descendants #disney descendants #descendants rise of red #descendants spoilers #rise of red spoilers

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sulumuns-dootah · 1 year ago

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1.12. Astaroth - Christmas stories

༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

༺☆༻

It was dark already, but you had no idea what exact time it was. Time seemed to disappear when Astaroth read to you. You'd always loved to get lost in the words his perfect velvety voice read from one of books from his huge collection.

Not that the contents of it mattered. He could read you his shopping list and you'd still feel the same intrigue as you do now, that he has you sitting in his lap under a blanket.

The Kings allowed you to go back to earth for a week to visit your family and friends since the holidays are coming. On one condition though and that was that at least one demon is to go with you to make sure you do return. Your immediate choice was Astaroth.

The relationship between the two of you has definitely been more than friendly. Many nights you've found yourself listening to him reading and later recreating the scenarios in his bedroom.

You've talked about your book collection which you had on earth. Many of those books weren't available in Hell and so you were excited to read them again, promising yourself you'd take them back with you.

Being back in your home, you've shown them to Astaroth and he immediately picked one up and sat down into the nearest armchair. Hopping into his lap you've pulled a blanket, which was laying nearby, over the both of you. This was maybe few hours ago or maybe only half an hour. You don't know and frankly don't care. As long as you're with him, time doesn't matter.

The book he's picked up was a collection of short Christmas stories for adults. A friend once gifted it to you as a joke, but now you were glad. Astaroth also seemed to enjoy it enough to continue reading it. The book was almost over, but you wished it was at least 500 pages longer just so you could stay like this.

From the angle you were sitting at, you've been able to see out of a window nearby. Despite it being dark outside, you'd noticed that it started to snow from the way some of the snowflakes fell on the glass. Maybe it would snow so much, you won't be able to leave the house tomorrow. That would mean your plans with your friends and family would have to be cancelled. You wouldn't mind at all, if anything, you'd be happier to spend a whole day inside with Astaroth.

“Are you with me, darling?” Astaroths voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Yes, sorry. I noticed it was snowing and my mind kinda trailed off.” you try to shake off the sleepiness you didn't notice before.

“We can stop if you'd like to go outside and enjoy it.” he closes the book, but still keeps his finger inside the book to not loose the page.

“No, that's okay. Maybe when we finish the book. What time is it anyway?”

“I believe it's around seven o'clock. We've arrived around three and this amount of pages takes me about four hours to read.”

“Oh, then maybe after we finish, we could go outside and then order a delivery?”

“Sure. That sounds marvellous, darling. If you don't also mind, which of those stories would you like to make come true?”

༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Seeing the books you enjoy, makes me want to share mine too. I hope you can enjoy them as much as I do. We can read them together if you'd like, darling."

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb astaroth #the yule festival of hell

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panicatthenightcourt · 2 years ago

Text

Treasure

@sjmromanceweek Day Seven: Free Day

Pairing: Nessian- Modern AU

Summary: Nesta surprises Cassian with some special jewelry.

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, body worship, body piercings, vaginal fingering

wc: 1.6k

Read on AO3

Cassian was effectively living out his own personal hell. He and Nesta had officially gone a full month without sex. The pair of them were insatiable, taking each other all the time and everywhere. But one day, after coming home from a girl’s day with Gwyn and Emerie, Nesta had declared they were going on a cleanse. A sex cleanse. She claimed benefits to their relationship. Talking about how it would strengthen their bond, without sex they could focus on other things about each other.

Now, a full month later, Cassian was pent up and frustrated. He’d taken himself in his own hand countless times, bringing himself his own release. But he agreed to it the second she proposed it and never once complained. Never asked Nesta to relent. He would do this for her and he would do it with a smile on his face.

Tonight he laid in bed, back pressed against the headboard, with a book in hand and Cassian knew he had made a grave mistake. His eyes hungrily devoured every single word on the page. His breathing turned heavy, chest expanding with every breath. He became restless, shifting his weight from side to side. The length in his pants stirred and began to harden. His hand trailed down his own body. Slowly, he made his way to where he ached the most. Cassian’s fingers ghosted over his clothed cock and-

“What are you doing?” came Nesta’s voice from the door of their bedroom.

Cassian snatched his hand away. He sat up straighter and willed his breathing to even. Willed his cock to settle. His eyes snatched on Nesta’s form as she creeped towards him. She looked like a predator who had just caught its prey.

A hum left her lips as her eyes dipped to the book in his hand. “I see you helped yourself to my bookshelf,” she commented. Cassian was utterly silent, unmoving. Nesta drew nearer, coming to stand at the side of the bed. He felt the book leave his hands when Nesta plucked it from them. “ ‘The Queen and Her Knight’, a good choice, Cassian.”

He felt himself come back enough to crack a cocky grin, “It’s a very interesting read.”

A sharp, perfect brow raised. “Is it now? And which part was interesting?” Nesta set the book on the nightstand. She raised a hand and placed it on his bare chest. Raking her hands against his pec, Cassian felt his cock twitch. “Is it the part when she tied him up to the bed?” Cassian swore he stopped breathing as she trailed her hand down to his abdomen. “The part where she sat on his face and didn’t let him come up for air until she came twice?” The image of the pair of them recreating that scene had his cock weeping already. “Maybe it was when she rode him, using his cock to get off, not letting him come until she had her fill.”

Cassian’s hips bowed off the bed as her hand reached his clothed length and squeezed. The images filling his head, coupled with the feel of her hand around him, forced a loud moan from his mouth.

Through clenched teeth and with a voice so strained he said, “The cleanse, Nes. What about the cleanse?”

Nesta exhaled a laugh through her nose. She let go of his cock and Cassian almost cried at the loss. But then all thoughts eddying from his mind as she climbed onto the bed and straddled him. The press of her warm cunt against his length felt heavenly. Their position had him looking up at her, an acolyte ready to worship his goddess.

“Oh, Cassian, I thought you would have caught on by now.” She raised her hands to grip his hair, forcing his gaze onto hers, as if he had any will to look anywhere else. His face was level with the large swell of her breasts. “There is no cleanse.”

In his daze, Cassian managed a strangled, “What?”

“I said there is no cleanse.” In one swift motion, Nesta pulled her shirt off. The sight that beheld him knocked the very breath from his lungs. His weeping cock strained even further against the fabric of his sweats. God, he was going to lose his fucking mind. “I just had to let these beauties heal.”

Two delicate piercings now adorned the dusky peaks of her tits. They twinkled in the low light of their bedroom. Twin barbells ending with small silver spheres on either end.

A choked noise escaped his throat. “Nesta.”

“Go on, then,” she told him. Her back arched, pressing her breasts further into his face. He tore his eyes from her tits and connected them with hers. His gaze never left hers as he leaned forward and closed his mouth over one of her nipples.

A sigh left Nesta’s lips and a groan left his as he flicked his tongue over the cool metal. Nesta began slowly canting her hips against his in sensual rhythm. He took his time playing with the new piece of jewelry before moving to the other breast.

“Fuck, Cass,” came Nesta’s breathless cry. Her eyes were still on his, a blazing passion shared between them. In a flurry of movement, Nesta moved off him to kick off her shorts and panties. Quickly, she pushed down Cassian’s bottoms as well. She climbed back over him, hands on his shoulders, and settled herself atop his now naked cock.

Matching sharp intakes of breaths came from them at the feel of each other. Cassian felt like he was coming out of his skin. The wet slide of Nesta’s folds against his cock threatened to do him in. His hands came up to press against her back, urging her forward once more. His mouth found her breasts again, worshiping them with a new fervor as Nesta resumed her grinding.

“Feels so good, Cass,” Nesta panted, head thrown back. “Doing so good for me.”

Cassian preened at the praise, letting out a small whimper. He doubled down on his efforts. He kissed between the valley of her tits, using his hands to palm at the generous swells. He flicked his thumbs over the piercings, reveling in the stutter of Nesta’s hips and the short breaths falling from her lips.

One of her hands left his shoulder and came to wrap around one of Cassian’s wrists. She guided his hand between her thighs. His knuckles brushed against his own cock and he hissed a breath at the contact. Understanding the command, he began to rub circles against her clit.

At first the pace was slow, languid. The slide of their bodies laid back. But soon Nesta was bucking her hips fervently against him and Cassian’s thumb was pressing and swirling quickly on her clit. Her pace was stuttering, breaths coming quicker. He was gritting his teeth, steady grunts escaping him, and clenching his abs to keep from heading right where Nesta was going. She leaned down and pressed a searing kiss against his lips just as he felt her tumble over the edge.

Small shivers wracked her body as she came down from her high. “Holy fuck,” Nesta breathed with a laugh. She was rubbing against his aching length softly. Without preamble, she lifted her hips gently and sank back down. Cassian swore he blacked out when he felt the tight heat of her wrap around his cock. A loud, wanton moan exhaled from him. He almost wept at the sensation.

The pace Nesta set was ruthless. She lifted her hips and fell back onto his cock with determination. Cassian moved his hands to her hips and squeezed hard. He was retraining himself from planting his feet onto the mattress and snapping his hips up to meet her thrusts, allowing Nesta the control. Allowing her to use him as she pleased.

Every exhale of his lungs was a sharp pant. Everything in his body was tight in a desperate attempt to stave off his orgasm. He could feel the rhythmic pulse of Nesta’s cunt around his cock, she was close again.

Cassian brought his hand to her clit once more and began rubbing to match her pace. He tried to ignore the sweet squeeze of her, focussed on pulling one more orgasm from her. Roving his eyes over Nesta, Cassian immediately wished he hadn’t. The sight of her almost had him spilling his release.

A sheen of sweat covered her whole body. Her eyes were screwed shut, head thrown back. Nesta’s hands were gripping his shoulders so hard, he hoped it would bruise. And her breasts. Her beautiful breasts bounced with every thrust, the jewelry at their peaks glinting when they caught light.

“Nesta,” he panted. “Nesta, I need you to come for me, baby.”

A weak huff left her at the command, ever the stubborn woman. Cassian thanked the stars that she was too drunk on pleasure to protest further. Her hips began to move erratically. The hands on his shoulders tightened until he felt the sting of her nails. Nesta’s mouth opened in a silent scream. The walls of her pussy clenched down on him so hard he saw stars.

With an errant thrust of his hips, Cassian spilled his seed up into Nesta, joining her in her orgasm. A deep groan reverberated from his chest.

Nesta crashed against him, spent and panting. He shivered when he felt his release trickle out of her and back onto his length.

“Holy fuck, Nesta,” he huffed a laugh. Nesta snorted in agreement. Cassian pressed a kiss to her head and told her, “They look beautiful, by the way.”

Nesta ducked her head into the crook of his neck and pressed a kiss there. “Thank you.” Another kiss. “You could pay it forward and get your dick pierced.”

A startled laugh clawed its way from Cassian’s throat. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to him. “I’ll consider it.”

#sjmromanceweek2023 #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian acotar #nesta x cassian #nessian #cassian x nesta #acotar #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames

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