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death---dealer · 6 months ago

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um hi first time requester here i hope im doing it right. can you give us more noa x reader hedcanons please i'm so happy to find someone writing for him

Noa x Human ! Reader Imagines - Part Two.

Let's go babey round TWO. We are eating good today. This ended up being like 3 fanfics rolled into one. 5K+ Words haha. Likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated! Enjoy reading. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human ! Reader. Rating: T. ( Just for safe measure. Some mentions of aggression, mating. That good stuff. ) Read Part One Here.

Slow Burn Series: Customary. Gone Hunting.

**Does contain spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Noa singing to the Eagles. He felt like he never had the talent. At least, not in the way that his father did. What happened with Proximus Caesar months ago… Noa reflected on that and rested his hand down on the tightly knit together wooden branches that served as a platform high above the whole of the Eagle Clan. It had to have been a fluke of nature, maybe stupid luck that he was able to preserve and get his Eagle to cooperate instead of scratching his arm to unrecognition. Shuffling a bit to the right and out of the council's den, Noa noted that there were still some items that were out of place from the raid of his village. Some small jars tipped over, out of view to anyone who wasn’t looking for a mess. Bird feathers were fallen on the ground, flocking it beyond knowledge that there was even wood there. Noa, being so familiar here, knew otherwise but others would make the unsafe assumption that they were simply being held in animation by a structure made from bird feathers. Small bits of ash here and there from the fire, but the structure itself was able to be repaired to be used again. He was grateful for that.

It was… Where he last was with his father, where he had been crowned shortly after, blue feathers now adorning the band that encased his right bicep, where he felt he had time to reflect and dwindle into nothingness, to not be important because to himself, he rarely ever was and it seemed the feeling was only enhanced now that he was responsible for the wellbeing of everyone in his Clan. They came first, Noa came last. Protect them at the sacrifice of himself. Noa nodded at that, self-assured. He had just disbanded with his council, nothing of interest picking up through the muddled nature of his thoughts. Just talk about the repairs to the village, about the next round of young Apes who were going to be bonded with their own feathery friend… Most days, Noa felt inclined to participate, he was their leader now. But today, there was not a possibility that he could even engage in regular conversation.

He grumbled under his breath, and a few of the birds reacted purely to the sound, not necessarily to Noa himself; that was what he tried to convince his mind to believe as his own Eagle, which used to be his own fathers, landed on his shoulder. There was minimal effort put into the sounds as he began circling the room slowly, looking at each of the Eagles that rested there, so delicate and fierce on their perches. He wished to be that… Strong, unafraid, and confident. Puffing his chest out, Noa feigned fake confidence before ultimately blowing the air out of his lungs, shoulders falling in some mild defeat. He seemed to shrink in on himself before returning to his rotation of the room.

For every round he made with his feet, his vocals grew ever so gently in intensity, his mouth now making an obvious ‘O’. Apes were not known to be great at singing ( at least Chimpanzees ), but they were known to make communication with sounds. Singing was the only way to describe it, and it took Noa nearly a month to explain to you what the sound actually was because he was unsure of the word. He was too self-aware to actually demonstrate. A lot of back and forth ensued. It was not a hoot, it was not a holler. It was…. Humming. Almost, crying in sound. Screeching if he were loud enough. He wasn’t though. He kept it hushed, intimate and private between himself and his birds.

And you didn't have it in your heart to say anything or move, almost splayed completely on your stomach, trying to ignore the jabbing pain in your ribs from resting on the hard wood that served as a ramp upwards towards the Ape you had come to see. He had to have been at least two meters above you at this point, maybe more. It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He’d kick you out from being in such a sacred place to his people. Why you felt drawn here, why you wanted to see him… All rational thought disappeared when you heard him. Noa had told you that this is how bonding went. You sang to your bird in the same way the egg sang to you to be chosen. You hadn’t seen it in practice, until now. Glancing up, you could see the shape of his feet through some of the thickets of wood, a few feathers falling through the cracks and gracefully landing either on you, or nearby. Would he stop if he knew you were there? You wondered and clenched your jaw.

Most likely he’d stop, you figured. Noa wasn’t one to do this in front of others out of fear or embarrassment. The only time he did it was to save his Clan. He’d do it again, sure, but to sing for them ceremoniously was a terrifying thought that was inevitably going to come to fruition some day. He told you time and time again though, the customs, the crown that had been metaphorically passed down to him from his father, the burden, the great angst he felt knowing that it all rested on him. He never flat out expressed that’s how it was, how he was feeling with his inner turmoil, but it became more frequently observed the longer you were in the care of the Eagle Clan. You so desperately wanted to help him.

Grasping a feather in front of you between your fingertips, you propped yourself up to sit and then to stand. Giving one more glance up at Noa, you turned to leave, deciding that you had no reason to be there; you couldn’t come up with one if he put you on the spot. He’d tell you the same, you were so sure of that. But… There was one irrefutable fact in all of this regardless.

Noa knew you were there the entire time.

Noa offering you an animal pelt. ‘They get… cold.’ Raka’s words echoed for a long time in Noa’s mind as he peered over at you, observing the nature of your smaller frame sitting so intently near the communal fire of the Clan. Some chatter off to the side from some Apes also enjoying the fire, but they were out of sight, out of mind for Noa. You were so close that the roar of the flames pushed back the hair from your face, giving the male Ape an exceptionally good view of your expression, even from the distance he was at.

You even had your eyelids shut, he noted before turning his head back towards his hands, only momentarily before he was looking right back at you. You were truly soaking in as much warmth as you possibly could. The waves of light encapsulated in some elegant dance as the blaze flickered across your body. Noa was left feeling slightly mesmerized by that like he would float over to you if you beckoned him. You were covered, shoulders and below, draped in unfamiliar clothing.

Today was the first time Noa had seen you wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants that swept you up, almost consuming due to the large nature of them. You had tied a loose knot around the waist to keep the bottom piece from falling, but he did notice you picking them up here and there as you moved throughout the day. It was obvious that they weren’t tailored to your body, but when you had stumbled upon them and snagged them for yourself, you didn't want to complain. Any sort of clothing was valuable, especially as the winter was coming. There wasn’t much else to that, Noa thought to himself and rested what he was tinkering with down on the bench in front of him.

You seemed content enough, Noa dubbed and gave himself a small smile. It faded just as quickly as it came, the knowledge that someone could see him absolutely enamored like a fool begging for attention from his most desired… Was not very leader-like. Noa felt like he’d snap at someone if they were to bring it up, bring you up as if they had a right to talk freely about you. Well… The joke was on Noa. They absolutely had the right but that didn't stop him from thinking of ways to deter people from doing that. He cherished the jealousy and harnessed it into a protective shield. He cherished you and the feelings that subsided in both his mind and body.

Those seemingly unrequited feelings were what spurred him from his perched seat and setting a small pace towards his nest. You’d be okay for just a minute or two, he figured and scattered a bit more quickly. Shuffling in your spot, you had only taken your eyes off of him here and there as your eyelids rested shut from the tiredness that swept over you in waves. That’s what the heat did to you; made you tired beyond comprehension. Maybe, you muttered inside of your head, you’d just tip right over and fall asleep on the ground rather than making the needed transverse back to your nest of twigs, feathers and smaller animal pelts. You must have dozed off regardless of your train of thought because when you looked up at where Noa had been sitting previously, it was vacant.

You blinked. Something hung on your shoulders. You blinked again, hearing a small bit of heavier breathing coming from your left side. Just a few soft hooing notions to let you know that he was near, not a threat. Submissive, if that’s what you wanted. For a lingering moment, it almost felt like there was a hand, delicately moving against your left shoulder blade, pressing in and out as if probing you to make sure you were still alive, but with sleep on your horizon of your body, it was hard to determine if that happened or if it was what you wanted to happen. Wanted Noa to do.

With your eyes shut at the pleasant sensation of the animal pelt, you drew a deep breath in and relished in the added feeling of your lungs expanding so lazily; like you were being smothered and taken down into a dark but very warm point of interest. “Hmmm.” You murmured out loud. It smelled remarkably rich once you were able to process that along the teetering line of slumber. Like a conifer tree, vines draping themselves delicately over building ruins, grainy like the Earth. There was one more note there, something incredibly fragrant. Familiar and it caused you to grasp at the item around your shoulders to dig your nose closer to it. It was a smell you savored more than you cared to admit, but in your sleepy stupor, it was happily acknowledged verbally.

“Noa.”

He was rock silent next to you, green eyes wide with surprise at the surmise of his name falling from your lips. So… so nice, Noa thought to himself, head tilting to the side in a subconscious bid to get closer to you. There was an intense and increased magnitude of his stare when you pulled the animal pelt he placed around you closer. Closer, Noa seethed softly at that, so close to you, on you… On… His thoughts came to a slow pause as he just viewed you again. You were clutching at the pelt, holding it closed against your chest.

Tameless thoughts hit the young Ape like a wave coming from the absolute silence his mind had previously been in. What it must feel like to have you hold him, what it must feel like to have Echo hand in his fur, pulling him closer, closer. He would beg you, scratch you, bite you if you pleased. If that’s what you wanted of him. Noa had no idea where this surge of ideology, of aggression came from but he did nothing to dampen it. Not when it felt so viciously good to indulge in. His lips parted, sharp canines glistening so delicately in the firelight as he hooted again, not loud enough to wake, but loud enough for him to selfishly remind you that he was there. Yes, yes yes… He chittered, moving side to side on all fours for a second before taking a sharp pace to the right and then back to the left before sitting properly next to you, solaced and draped deliciously as he stared at you. The absolute desire he had to perform such acts, such… Such vulgarity…

He couldn’t stop, he-he… Didn't want to.

Noa welled at that, revered it and felt a sense of accomplishment. You liked it! No, no, he hooted to himself so quietly, taking time to observe you again to confirm his thoughts. You were loving it. He had seen you in various states before. Embarrassed, angry, flustered, minorly injured, reminiscent, but this… Was beyond anything he had seen before. Something stirred inside of him as he sat back, now resting his body against a log for support so he didn't need to put in active thought into keeping himself up-right. He’d wait until you were awake enough, the decision was made, and let you know it was time to go back to your nest for the night. Just a few more minutes, Noa bargained with the most introspective parts of his mind, almost beaming with primal pride that he was able to keep you satisfied. You were vulnerable.

Seeing his nest for the first time. Your lips parted, slightly dry from the air that rolled around the quiet village. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything as you stared at Noa who unwaveringly stared right back, waiting silently for an answer to a question just asked. But oddly, it felt like there was no question. Shock rocketed through you like you were being electrocuted. It started in your feet, feeling slightly numb before completely overtaking the rest of your senses. You felt blind, almost half tempted to put your hand out to touch something, you felt mute, a hard lump now sitting at the back of your esophagus and it felt like you would throw up if you tried to swallow it down, you couldn’t hear anything outside of your own breathing which made you feel even more isolated. It was hard and rigid, you were nervous and trying to hold it in but it was untimely and bursting at the seams. You knew that Noa noticed and he either didn't put much thought into your reaction to his six signed words. Had you just seen his signing right? Maybe he said something different and your eyes were playing tricks on you! In broad daylight.

Do. You. Want. To. Come. In.

Mentally, you slapped your forehead out of meager frustration. Why did you have to follow him all the way up the platformed structure? Why didn't you stop yourself like you always did? It was not a permission you gave yourself; to be anywhere near his personal space. You’d meet in communal spaces, or out in the field Noa favored. Never personal, never too close… You must not have noticed your feet transition from grass to dirt to wood. You were so transfixed on Noa who sauntered back to his nest to grab something he had forgotten, that you followed blindly. Physically, you raised your hands before dropping them in favor of actually talking. It was quiet and reserved, Noa noticed and he found himself pacing forward just a bit as he had a harder time hearing it, wood creaking as it settled under his weight.

“You want me to come in?” Your voice came to a tapering squeak but you tried your damndest to keep it under wraps. You should have signed, you dummy… Deep down, you knew that Noa had observed that but what you didn't know with any sort of confidence was that he was forcing himself to ignore that heat-skipping a beat feeling he’s been getting more frequently around you. “I don’t know Noa, that’s your home, I would…”

“I…” He started slowly before raising one hand to sign reassuringly, ‘I… would like you to.’ It was your turn for your heart to do that infamous skip a beat. Swallowing hard, you dug your heels into the wood platform below your feet to keep you from floating off at the idea. No! You snapped, it wasn’t just an idea… It was an opportunity that was now given to you, Noa metaphorically holding his hand out to see if you would reciprocate in any form. He was offering you inside, to see Noa’s nest. Where he slept, bided his time, enjoyed solitude when his Mother wasn’t around, when Anaya was getting on his nerves, when Soona was pestering him in her typical sisterly fashion… You figured the question begged was just Noa being accommodating. You figured him telling you that he would like you to was just his way of being polite. Figuring you would not be comfortable to wait outside for him, knowing more about you that you cared to admit in the moment.

If all things went according to how you wanted them to be, you’d jump on that chance. But, you found yourself pensively contemplating if you wanted to step over that metaphorical threshold, this one in the shape of an entryway. The one that landed right in the palm of Noa’s hand. You’d be a bald faced liar if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t curious. Curling your fingers into your palms, you noticed that they were profusely sweaty. Would it be deemed rude if you denied him? If you said no, convince him you were fine waiting outside? You had no idea how he would perceive that, “Okay.”

Wait. What did you just say? Wait!

Your feet once again began moving without permission, gliding yourself right along Noa’s right side as he offered you to go on first, his hand gesturing repeatedly to the room. Quick in succession. There was no way he was excited, was there? The idea tickled your brain but you shoved it back and drew a deep breath in. From his perspective, Noa watched your rib cage expanding under the soft fabric of your shirt and then regressing back inwards slowly. Meditative breathing, he figured, to keep you calm.

There was nothing calm about this though. Your stomach felt like it was beyond the floor, now sinking deep underground, your ears pricked with anticipation. The fur on his bicep tickled at the bare skin of your arm, caressing and smoothing itself there as you were now shoulder to shoulder with him and you swore you felt his breathing against your neck when he glanced at you, counteractive to your own self soothing breaths. Hard, heavy and fast. Noa didn't know how to cover that up which was ironic because you were so convinced you managed to stave your nerves off.

You step over that threshold, you step over a line that was there for good reason. The rational part of your brain was so annoying.

You pushed yourself forward and with the blink of an eye you were inside. It was… Unremarkably remarkable. Nothing really popped at you, eyes processing through a darkened mess. Nothing in particular you noticed right off the bat, it was a dim lighting, the only two sources being a small fire pit that was begging to be put out, the pieces of wood small and frail, giving just enough energy to hold a mild orange hue and that of an opening to the right, reminiscent of a window of sorts lightly covered by a cloth. Sun peeped in and illuminated only enough to navigate and not pick apart any details. You smiled to yourself at that detail you were able to see. So, he did believe in privacy, why else have what you would consider a curtain? It wasn’t just an Echo thing like he so often pinned.

You shifted to the left and allowed Noa to enter right behind you. He was fast, hunching his body in on all fours, the pattering of his hands and feet entrapping you for a few seconds. He swept to the right, wanting to observe you in vague silence. In his space, green eyes narrowed as you stepped further in, your fingers coming up to touch a leather strap that was hanging against the wall. That was his hunting sheath, holding his spear against his back when out.

You were incredibly grateful as you felt your eyes adjusting to the lighting, able to see more details as you trailed along the left wall, almost as if you were afraid to actually dive further in. It smelt like Noa - Rich in flavors that teased your tongue. Trees surely, but trees bathed in sunlight in the late summer afternoons, smoke from the ashes of fires that burned endlessly, the absolute deepest part of the Earth that you could beckon… Shutting your eyes at that, you tried to document it somewhere in your mind. You needed to remember it, needed to recall this when you were alone later. Noa’s smell became so familiar, but being so near now, it was suffocating you and it threw an absolute chill down your spine.

Noa observed your fingers then raising, causing the Ape to perk up in baited anticipation of you saying something. Nothing came to fruition, but your fingertips were now held in animation against the feathers of his ceremony cloak, lightly placed on what appeared to be a small bench. It was splattered artistically with the blue feathers of the Eagles, the Falcons he had grown up with, admired. Friendly, you thought, with what appeared to be necklaces sitting right next to it, some with adjacent feathers to match the cloak, one holding a large engraved wooden pendant. It was so intricate and you felt the urge to run your fingers along the carved channels. All had been his fathers, tracing back several generations until it landed in Noa’s hands. Some of his most prized possessions. Hooting at that as if he were scolding you, fingers stopped touching around the feathers and you looked over at him, almost whipping yourself around, heart now jumping itself into your throat. He didn't mean to startle, but he just wanted to make you rightfully aware that what you were touching was a delicate garment. Your eyes told him you were sorry and so he allowed you to continue on.

You had turned your attention now to the tinker items he had stored. A few spear heads, some more dull than others, a few more tools that Noa frequented when something needed to be fixed. Against the wall next to his bench was an iron pipe, rusted from years of being exposed to nature. Fleetingly, you wondered why he kept it but didn't want to give off the impression you were judging him by asking why he did. Unbeknownst to you, he wondered so morbidly what you were thinking. Good or bad? Did you like it? Did you… Not…? Like his things? Noa couldn’t see your face, only your shoulders as you were turned away from him now, moving further into the room. Bad choice of sitting so far away from you, he thought to himself, scolding the immature mistake. He should have followed you around. Closer he was, the easier it was to see. He felt his fingers twitch as you came around and looked at his nest, queering it to be the next thing to inspect. Yes, please! Admire it. Say something about it! He yelled inside of his head. He wanted to ask you if you liked it, if you cared to share. If it was suitable.

Inappropriate to ask, Noa berated himself and sat back, realizing he had set himself in almost a pounce-like position.

Branches were spewed all over in a circular motion that tightly knitted itself as it got closer to the center, feathers from the eagles nestled deeply between thickets of animal pelts, some bigger than others. Rabbits, you noticed, maybe a fox as your eyes scored over a red hued pelt. One that was remarkably bigger than the rest; it had to have been a bear. Had he hunted it himself? You tilted your head and moved forward to get a better glance at it. It was a messy assortment and that felt strangely… Endearing. Noa was often quiet and reserved, not much to talk about himself he had told you, only answering your questions when he felt they garnered answers. You were getting more answers from this simple analysis of his nest than you had gotten with words before.

Noa remained silent, your body turning to face him as you were admiring, at least he hoped you were, his nest. His choice of pelts, his choice of comfort and security. You crouched down into a squatting position to get a better view at the nature of his nest. Taking in the smaller details that were resting there. Were you… repoaching him? He wondered with a tilt of his head. You had not said one word to him, did not raise your hand to sign. Did… Nothing. He did not know. He did not know what you were thinking. Frustration rose in him for a split second. He’d tear your head open just to know what you were thinking. Noa’s mouth popped into an open ‘O’ shape when he watched you place a hand on one of his animal pelts. He knew the outcome of that alone; it would smell like you and he was going to obsess about it when alone. He had something now, something personal, that held your scent.

You finally broke the silence and Noa felt a sheer force of relief hit him in waves, one after the other at each of your words, “Very Noa.”

Hm… His mouth fell, agape ever so slightly and you could see the glimmer of his canines as he caught the sun peeking through his make-shift curtain. His green eyes burned desolate holes into your own, Noa noting that you weren’t moving to break said eye contact. Carefully, he did so himself, afraid of some repercussions if he continued to look at you the way he was. Wrought with feral need. He forced himself back into the moment, back into what you said. Were your words an approval? It had to be, the tone of your voice was not aggressive, mean, passive… It was as gentle as he had heard it in a while, only recollecting once or twice that tone being used. Often, in conversations that were more affectionate than others. Rare, but Noa was familiar enough.

“Someday,” He rumbled, the sound of his voice pitching every which way as he was now scrambling to get his bearings. “Will share. With mate.” It had to have been your imagination to see him vaguely gesture to you at the word ‘mate’. Yup, just your imagination which was still running outlandishly wild at the prospect of where you were.. “With family. It is the way of the Eagle Clan.” You nodded, understanding that from previous conversations where he had opened up a bit more about his culture. The mere thought of him someday having a mate, a family, was a bit of a sting, but it wasn’t outside of the realms of reality. For the sake of the Eagle Clan, he eventually needed to provide an heir. And in order to do that, it required a mate. You'd lose him one way or another...

Noa looked over at you, enjoying the tentative feature that found your face. Noa crept a bit closer to you, trying to be as smooth as possible. Gliding is how he wanted to appear. Not to startle, not to intimidate but he wondered if you were by nature. After all, he was an Ape, you were human, together in a room with not any other creatures around. The absolute dissolution he could put you in, not knowing that you had the same power over him.

It was like he was stalking prey, you thought to yourself, Noa finally rounded the circular nest that you were still admiring. Or at least, pretending to admire as he placed his brooding body next to yours, crouching to the same level as to be face to face with him. His apparent scent only got stronger at that motion putting you into some brief tizzy. From the distance you found yourselves at, you could see the striking nature of his eyes in full force. Pupils were blown beyond comprehension, darkening only when he felt you tracing the features of his face. Around said pupils were a thin line of his regular green eyes, maybe a few specks of gold floating around. He was still child-like in some aspects, youthful was a better word. His brow ridge was strong, hereditary as he was always destined to be the leader of his Clan. Always destined to be the alpha. The swooping wrinkles under his eyes always gave the impression that he was tired, but being so close to him now, you saw them under hood eyes. He was begging silently.

His skin was varied in color; darker patches hitting his brow line, starting from his nose, upwards into his fur. There was a spot of normally colored skin on his nose, dipping in color when it met the fur on the sides of his face and around his chin. Very much like a human sporting a beard, you thought to yourself. The fur on his face was not completely shelled in darkness. It was remarkably lighter compared to that of his body and it accented his features perfectly in your mind. You lingered on his nose for a split second - never realizing it was shaped like a cartoon heart that you had seen in some children's books. Snapping your gaze up, you met his eyes again. Darker than they were before.

He was wearing an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Not intimidation. You had seen your fair share of intimidated Apes. Not angry. Also have seen your fair share. It was almost… Like he was languishing. You wanted to know what his features felt like under your grasp… You wanted to hold his face closer to yours and consume… An animalistic bearing hit your chest. Without remark, you lifted your hand up, breaking no eye contact. Noa let it happen, seeing the movement out of his periphery. You were going to touch him, he prepared himself for that, all nerves standing on end. The fur lining his shoulders rose in eagerness, his mouth still agape was mumbling something wordless, soundlessly. You were going to touch him. He was certain his heart was going to climb out of his chest. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold onto his sanity. Noa preemptively shut his eyes.

Relief…

Never came.

Just as quickly as you decided to move forward, you were pulling back. Two steps, maybe even three. Noa squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before letting them open. You were gone, leaving nothing for him other than a pelt that smelt like you.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #noa x reader #noa x human reader #planet of the apes #pota #owen teague #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes #planet of the apes x reader

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cursedcola · 1 year ago

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia(Here!), Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: There may be some comma splicing here and there. Sometimes doing bullet works is more difficult than full fics smh.

Kalim is a dreamer. His mind is full of visions of the past, present, and the future. Why else do we make memories, if not to reflect on them and imagine what is to come?

This is his outlook on life. He doesn't give energy to worries or threats. He physically can't, or else he'd likely fall into an endless abyss of self-doubt. Kalim has no space in his heart for such things.

His happy-go-lucky attitude combined with this free spirit results in a loose lip. He is constantly ranting and raving about his future by your side. Which is lovely, but his over-zealous behavior can cause others not to take him seriously.

Exhibit A: Kalim proposing. Now, is this Kalim *actually* planning to propose, or is it just him beginning his weekly rant about how cute he thinks your kids will look?

Kalim's heart is an open book. He doesn't care about other people's opinions. He loves you, so he's going to say it. Every. Single. Day.

Can you blame his siblings for not believing him? For his parents not taking him seriously? He comes home one random day and spouting a tangent to begin preparing for an engagement party which just sounds like common Kailm behavior.

Not even Jamil believes him. Not after countless years of hearing Kalim's lovesick Jargen. He just groans in exhaustion and signals for everyone to ignore it.

Sweet sunshine doesn't realize that he is being overlooked until he whips out a ring to ask his mother's opinion on it, and suddenly the room is drop dead silent.

Then uproar. All his siblings are crowding around to share his excitement and it's like the room's aura made a complete change. Kalim thrives in the attention and all the well wishes.

He hopes they'll be just as happy once you say yes! If not more!

.....cue Jamil's groan. Again. This time in frustration.

They should have know. Of course he would do all this before asking.

Bless you for your patience. With his parents' blessing, Kalim once again gets wrapped up in his excitement and runs off to visit you.

Moving on. This...overzealous...behavior Kalim exhibits does not only apply to his family and friends.

My dear, he has proposed many times to you in casual conversation. Dreaming of a big wedding with a feast to serve hundreds. He displays tooth-rotting infatuation to you on a daily basis.

Kalim sends flowers and fruit baskets to your home weekly. He cherishes you like you've been dating for months, not years. The man is stuck in the puppy love stage but for him it isn't a 'stage'. It's simply how he will always be. The spark has not dimmed. He still hums as he knocks on your door, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and shoves his shoes off with super speed to tackle you in a hug.

Get it?

This is why you are not taken aback by the rapid knocking on your door. Kalim stopping by on impulse just to see you is not rare. Although, he normally would send a plethora of texts while on his way.

Even so. You don't hesitate to dry your hands from cleaning dishes, and speed walk to the door. You can hear his shoes tap against the outdoor floor in anticipation, and swing the door open with a smile.

On the other side, is Kalim down on one knee with a hand aimed to knock again. When he sees you, the largest grin spreads on his face. You don't even get to question why he is on the ground-

"Marry Me!"

Used to his excitable greetings, you laugh heartily and throw the dishrag in your hand over your shoulder. "Mhm. Mhm. I missed you too," comes out between chuckles, as you turn around so he can let himself in. You miss the way his face falls and his lips purse, before he grabs your wrist and yanks. You twirl and stumble forward, catching yourself on the door frame, hunched over with your wrist still in his grasp.

Kalim is resolute, and you can't help but gawk as he pulls out a ring wrapped in a gold, silk handkerchief from his pocket

"Marry Me," he says again, this time more firm. His ruby hues lock with yours, and he looks both at and through you at the same time, "I love you. I want you. Only you,"

He says no more. There is a lifetime for flourishes, but right now Kalim only wants you to know what is in his heart.

When you don't back away, he slips the ring over your finger. His heart hammers in his chest in a mix of jubilation and happiness. Not a moment later you are in his arms, tackled to the ground in the doorway of your home. Kisses being peppered up your arms from your ring finger to your lips.

{A bright pink diamond sits amidst a sunburst cut, and is surrounded by other pure diamonds on a silver band. The biggest expression of wealth and devotion. This ring costs enough to make you feint, but is chosen with purpose. Many say Kalim is like the sun. Yet in his eyes, you are his sun. There is no comparison. Only fact. Pink diamonds symbolize love, creativity, and romance. You are his sun, with all his love residing at the core. Also, it’s just really shiny}

If mystery was embodied in a man, it would be Jamil. You never know what is going on in Jamil's mind. Sometimes he slips. Rarely. If you can fluster him enough or find him when he hasn't slept in days. Otherwise Jamil is a brick wall when it comes to his true emotions.

Especially when it comes to you. He has always been exceedingly careful. He is still careful. He takes no chances, but he loves your game. The way you can pick him apart, and how he always has to be one step ahead. It’s challenging. It’s exciting. It’s love.

You see how he holds back. That he reigns himself in. In the few years you have spent at his side, you've learned to read him in ways that other people cannot. There are times when you get to see him become overcome with passion. When he is dancing, or when he is broom racing with his dormmates. When he is cooking a new dish or haggling prices on shopping trips.

When he confessed his feelings. It was the greatest surprise since being transported to a new universe. You had no idea how he felt. Not an inkling. Had he not said anything….well, you may have gone your entire time at NRC believing your affections were unrequited. He had no tells. Permitted none for himself.

On one hand, his ability to dilute his emotions has created many opportunities for surprises. Getting to see those little moments of passion; being one. Each action of his has a meaning that only you understand. Every glance as you pass in the halls, the brush of his fingers against yours as you sit together to study, being allowed to braid his hair even if it’s just to “keep you quiet”, all his little quips and murmurs being whispered into your ear instead of under his breath.

On the other hand, there are still barriers. Some closed tightly and no matter how hard you search for a key - there isn’t one. It was broken a long time ago and only Jamil himself can remanufacture it. Sometimes his resilience makes it hard to tell what he is planning…which can be lonely.

In your final year at NRC, many things are uncertain. This place is all you have ever known in Twisted Wonderland. With it being taken away…you do not have a floor to stand on. On the other hand, Jamil looks fine, if not *eager*, to graduate. Neither of you addressed what would become of your relationship after graduating. Jamil had thought of it, no doubt. He thinks of everything. You had as well, but were afraid to ask. When it came to the future, Jamil was always so resolute. He knew his path in life and planned to continue carving it.

The question hanging in the air being if you’d be chiseling alongside him, or in a different direction. Unknown to you, Jamil had this problem solved long before you began to wonder - and he was one step ahead. As always.

A ring. Unassuming and in plain sight, sat on the rim of the windowsill above the kitchen sink. How did it get there? You do not know, but it caught your attention as you cleaned up from breakfast. The morning sun glistened against the band, and you carefully picked it up to twirl between your fingers.

An engagement ring, but whose?

“Well, are you going to put it on or just stare at it?”

You jump and nearly drop the ring in the kitchen sink. In the reflection of the window you see Jamil, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and his classic unamused deadpan. At your silence, he pushes off and comes to take the ring

“Last time I take advice from - ,” he grumbles and you miss the rest of it, too distracted with how he plucks the ring from your grasp, and holds your hand more gently than you ever thought he could. He stares down at it, content, and surprised you yet again with his tender touch“hmm…it fits. Good”

It slips on your finger smoothly, and he lifts your hand to wave in your face. This time, an unspoken communication passes between you. A promise that you are going to have a lifetime to pick apart those little mannerisms of his - and that he wants you to. He loves this game of secrets just as much as you do.

“Be my spouse. Go where I go, and we’ll be fine. Together….I can’t handle if you’re not near. I’ll lose my hair, do you want that? Want me to go bald?…come with me. You are the one happiness that I refuse to sacrifice,”

{ Rose gold with a floral cut and black gemstone accents. Jamil’s ring is small, unassuming, yet the closer you look the lore detail you will see carved into the gold band. You will note the little gems, upholding the core. Some pure as the ring’s heart and others a sharp contrast - drawing attention to the center. Jamil’s ring is somehow both modest and bold at the same time. A reflection of the giver}

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst #kalim al' asim x reader #twst kalim #twst kalim al' asim #twst jamil #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil viper #twst scarabia #proposal series

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

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AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable?

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions.

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3.

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside.

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said…

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from.

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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anima-nostrae · 1 month ago

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Why shipping is so intensely hated in older fandoms?

Because of my person being entrenched in both the Rings of Power and Star Wars (sequel trilogy and the Acolyte specifically) fandoms and conversations online, I have noticed a curious thing happening. Now of course, I am aware all of it has been taking place for a long time before that, but recently a pattern has been developing.

Notably, the hate “shipping” or “shippers” had been receiving in online spaces.

Using both fandoms I already mentioned as a sort of trial group, let me illustrate what I mean by a “pattern” - but first, let’s try to define the whole shipping thing.

The basic thing to understand about it is that not everyone would explain it the same way. I would assume the most universal understanding of it would mean “shipping” to be simply wishing for two characters to become a couple at one point or another in the story. In that understanding, this might also manifest in some people’s minds as “I want these two to kiss” as well as “I want these two to have sex.” Which is true.

Which is also a very flattening description of the phenomena.

People are shipping characters that canonically hate each other, that don’t know each other, that come from two different media altogether. People are shipping characters that have minimal interactions, but these in themselves have that specific element about them, that little umph that normal people would call “chemistry”, so they want to see more from them. Most of the time, and I do mean most of them, not all, these opinions and jokes on the internet are just that.

There was a post about it, one which I cannot find anywhere but in the recesses of my mind, but it made a point to say shipping wasn’t this overly sexual thing where the fans partook in the practice simply to see their favourite characters engage physically before their eyes, but because there was something about the both of them, some strange, mirroring quality that made their interactions simply irresistible to witness, be them anything. A fight scene, a conversation, a mention.

Ones that come to mind are, more recently, Haladriel, *Rings of Power’*s Galadriel and Halbrand-version-of-Sauron, Oshamir, The Acolyte’s main characters, and Reylo.

Of course, Reylo.

We have noticed this, yes? How, most of the time, people that enjoy dynamics between various characters are called “insane”, “stupid”, “child-like”, and how they are blamed for writers partaking in generally controversial choices because “they are just caving-in” and “pandering to shippers”?

This is a feminism - adjacent piece, and quite a short read actually!

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ffc1cb · 9 months ago

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new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle.

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right.

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation.

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change.

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down.

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

#salt talks

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iamnmbr3 · 5 months ago

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'why do you ship drarry, malfoy bullied him'

malfoy should have been redeemed and they are absolutely OBSESSED with each other. It might as well be romantic

And ppl seem pretty sensible. If a bit too horny

I have thoughts on this. Because the thing is, no one should feel like they need a reason to dislike a ship or to not engage with it. They can have a reason. But it's also just fine to...not vibe with something. That's ok too. There's content and ships that make me super uncomfortable or that just plain dislike. Sometimes for clear specific reasons and sometimes just...because. Sometimes to the point that I hate even scrolling past it on ao3. And that's all ok. What's not ok is harassing other people over or it dictating what other people like or engage with. Wish more people remembered that. It would make fandom so much nicer if people could all do that.

And yeah. I feel like Draco's story needed more closure. I mean, canonically he does get a redemption arc - he changes his views and becomes a better person - but JKR somehow both wrote that and also doesn't acknowledge the implications. Also, after being such a central character and being literally the reason Harry wins his duel against Voldemort it feels weird for him to not at least have a final conversation with Draco where he gives his wand back etc. (And then they fall in love and get married epilogue whom?!)

Also I am more than on board with super dark highly toxic enemies to lovers ships. They aren't for everyone but I like them. To me personally though, drarry doesn't really fall into that category, at least as it is presented in canon. What Harry and Draco have to me feels like a rivalry - a very intense, very hostile one (I mean they do literally end up as soldiers on opposite sides of a war), but a rivalry nonetheless. And there is obviously a grey area between bullying and rivalry. My point is not to dismiss all the ways Harry and Draco have hurt each other. But merely to point out that to me the dynamic feels very different than shipping Snape and Sirius for example, or Draco and Ron for that matter, where it feels like there's more of a clear past bully & victim dynamic. This is not a reason to ship or not to ship any of these ships. To each their own. It's merely a commentary on how I tend to view drarry.

As to the last point. I don't think people can really be "too horny." Sex and sexual desire are just as valid to explore or depict in fiction/art and just as valid a reason to create fiction/art as any other reason. Generally speaking I find that the best and most creative and diverse fandom environments that lead to the greatest quality and diversity of content are the ones where people who want to be 'horny on main TM' in their creative endeavors can be without fear of any type of negative repercussion. That's not to say everyone has to create, enjoy or even engage with that type of content. But its presence is usually a sign of a healthy fandom ecosystem.

#asks #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #drarry

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yourhighness6 · 8 months ago

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Quite honestly I have to say that I actually really like Aang. Him being a happy-go-lucky, sweet kid is extremely important to the story, as bringing back a sense of fun to the people who have been experiencing war for so long is basically his narrative purpose. There's a purpose behind his personality, just as there should be in any narrative. However, I think anyone who engages critically with media has to aknowledge that he makes some bad decisions, especially when it comes to his treatment of Katara at the end of season three. Although I would personally argue that this is sexist writing and not congruent with the Aang we have seen for the entirety of the show leading up to DoBS (although people are also right when they point out the amount of emotional labor his position as the grand hero of the story and as a rather immature kiddo put on Katara), these are still mistakes that the character canonically makes. His treatment of Katara in previous seasons is still toxic behavior that I would argue is actually congruent with his character. The mistakes he makes throughout the series in other areas, such as hiding their father's location from Sokka and Katara, are canon decisions the character makes that are also definitely congruent with his character. But for whatever reason, a lot of the fandom refuses to recognize this. Most Aang/ Kat@ang stans put Aang on a pedestal and argue that nothing he's done throughout the series is exactly wrong. Nothing was wrong in his treatment of Katara, and if it is, he's naturally extremely sorry about it and should be forgiven despite the fact that we see no expression of guilt or remorse from him for, what I believe is the most glaring example, the EIP noncon kiss. So again, to restate, I don't hate Aang. I've never hated Aang. I like Aang. But unfortunately, because of the fandom representation of him, I have no interest in engaging in fan content about him. I have no interest in talking about the good things he does or the great decisions he makes outside of his decision not to kill Ozai, which, although greatly contested in the fandom, I completely agree with because of the narrative significance of Aang choosing to stick to his beliefs and the overarching theme of mercy, which we also see built up in many previous episodes such as TSR. Aang is the character that I would argue has been corrupted the most by the fandom. He's either viciously hated or hoisted into a position of perfection and frankly, I can deal with neither. Aang is a good character, but we should be able to have conversations critical of his actions. Aang is an extremely flawed and relatively underdeveloped character, but he is by no means evil incarnate, and I just wish that more people could recognize that both of those statements should and do coexist.

#atla #aang #aang critical #anti kataang #technically #anti bryke #fandom salt #anti aang stans #anti kataang stans

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inuhalfdemon · 8 months ago

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You Caught Me At Just The Rut Time

My contribution to a Hazbin Fandom Challenge I created: here

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Rating: MATURE (Smut)

Word Count: 3,193 Words

Summary: You are a female red deer demon. By chance, you happen to meet Hell's great radio demon and the timing could never be more...perfect.

Note: This is not aroace Alastor; at least not for the moment. It gets pretty smutty in here...

You are a red deer hind/doe demon. You’ve been in Hell for some time now; but are still learning the in’s and the out’s in surviving this after-life. There’s been a lot of talk and stirring with the events surrounding the Hazbin Hotel following the war with Adam. Charlie Morningstar is hosting a kind of Open House event to welcome any and all potential new clients who wish to tread her planned path to redemption. Having nothing really better to do and seeing on one of the advertisements – scrawled messily in crayon – that there would be free booze, you decide ‘what the hell’ and go to check it out.

There is a decent turnout; demons and sinners all curious about this new development and wanting to know more. Most – of course – have nefarious reasons to being here but the Princess of Hell is pleased as punch, just the same. As soon as you are able; you excuse yourself to the bar and order a drink. The bartender – a Hell demon cat with intricate wings - is expertly taking orders and sending drinks out promptly to all the patrons. A little – ‘bug?’ – demon is scurrying about the place; cleaning in a frenzy and collecting empty glasses to take back to behind the bar counter. The bartender quickly pours your drink and with a flick of his feathered tail; he has it sliding right into the palm of your clawed hand before starting on the next in line.

Most of the others are grouped among themselves – conversing – throughout the hotel lobby. Some are meandering or exploring the new building; talking with the current residents. The corner of the bar where you sit is relatively quiet. Stirring your drink with one clawed finger, you amuse yourself by watching everyone.

When someone approaches your part of the room; you are surprised to find that it is in fact Hell’s infamous Radio Demon – Alastor. Despite his wide smile and buoyant attitude; everyone parts from him as if they were the Red Sea, giving him a more than respectable space as he comes to lean over the bar counter near you.

“Husker, my good man.” Alastor calls to the bartender. “A rye, if you would.” His voice crackles in old-timey radio.

Without so much as acknowledging the Overlord’s presence; the winged demon cat uses his tail to pour from a bottle into a whiskey glass containing some ice beside him – his hands busy preparing other drinks. He had seen Alastor making his way to the bar and was ready for the order. Curling his tail around the glass, he set it on the counter and flicked it smoothly to him just as he had for you.

“I very much thank you, my friend.” Alastor lifted the glass; and sipped. Husker ignored him; focusing on what he was doing.

You watch this interaction with interest; comparing it to how others now were giving your corner of the bar a very wide berth.

Alastor took his seat; sitting at the bar stool just next to yours. He shifts himself so that he is casually watching the goings-on of the grouping of demons and sinners throughout the room; but he has one long ear – the one nearest you – slightly turned and rotated toward you. It is an invitation to engage in conversation…if you wish.

You assess him briefly – wondering if he really, truly is a red deer demon. They are not terribly uncommon in Hell, but some only resemble the form of a Cervidae. It can be tricky to tell; even for those who are. If he is a Cervidae – he’s a very powerful one. And, it’s obvious to you that’s not all that he is. You – yourself - are very athletic, agile, clever and quick due to being the type of demon that you are but he – he emanated a type of power that could never be fully comprehended.

“It’s a good turnout.” You offer; initiating conversation with him.

“Why, yes. It really is. Charlie should be proud.” He replied happily; shifting now so that he is politely engaged with you.

“You’ll have a time…can’t say there are many here that look like they’ll make the cut.” You sip from your drink.

“Oh, I’m fully prepared to deal with some of the riff-raff, believe you me.” He chuckled into his drink. “Have your sights set on high, yourself, darling?”

“Hm…not really. The thought of redemption really doesn’t interest me much.” You reply, honestly.

“Well, that bodes all too well for me…” He says, eyes firmly fixed on you.

And, there it is. A hint of…a scent. Cervidae demons – true Cervidae – demons are commonly known for their deer-like tendencies. One very prominent one being that they experience fluctuating periods of cyclic mating periods – termed the rut. There’s a lot that gets rather muddled with this natural occurrence; confusing even for the demons that experience it because each and every individual is different in the timing, frequency or intensity of their own personal mating cycles.

You know that the scent that you caught – be it just a whiff – is a musk. A musk that red deer stags produce when they are…interested. It is a pheromone that only other Cervidae demons can detect. Incidentally, you are aware that you yourself are currently…receptive…and that you are producing your own pheromone that he can easily detect in your response.

Your body reacts to this development rather quickly. A flooding of hormones, cascading and overwhelming your senses. You feel the hair on your head and at the base of your tail bristling, rising slightly. Your mouth has gone dry and your heart rate has sharply increased.

He laughs lightly; reading your response. Throwing back the rest of the whiskey before setting the empty glass onto the counter.

“Do not trouble yourself, Husker.” Alastor called over his shoulder as the bartender reached for another whiskey glass with his tail. “That will be all for me this evening, I think.”

Smoothly, Alastor slides from his seat at the bar.

“I’d very much like to show you more of our amenities here.” He tells you, offering his hand. “If you’d be so inclined…” His musk trailing off of him; becoming more potent.

The message is crystal clear; and he’s offered you an easy out. You are free to politely decline, walk away from this…proposal. Honestly though, you could do with a decent fuck. And, everything this radio demon is promises a rather good one.

“Aren’t you a little too old for me?” You ask him; though he’s more than fully aware that really won’t pose any sort of an issue here.

“Quite so.” He admits. “I assure you though, I am quite spry.

Throwing back your own drink, you take his offered hand, letting him chivalrously help you down from your bar stool and following him out of the lobby of the hotel. Other demons and sinners move readily out of your way, so intent on ducking and avoiding the attention of the smiling Overlord that no one notices you leaving with him. The other residents of the hotel are so caught up in their own tasks with ensuring that the Open House is a success, they pay absolutely no mind to Alastor’s departure from the event.

Alastor leads you to his room; a lone door standing, eerily placed within the entirety of the hotel’s 13th floor.

He pauses at the doorway with you; considering you seriously.

“You are sure?” He asks you; his musk surrounding you entirely: heightening your arousal. “I can and will stop at any time you tell me.” He says. “But, it has been some time...for me. This could get…intense.” His eyes are burning; a soft deep green glow penetrating the soft light of the hallway. His antlers had thickened at their bases, points lengthening, widening as he spoke.

Despite everything. Despite his obvious readiness at having you, taking you now; here, at the very peak of his rut… Despite the absolute betrayal that was your own body telling him how receptive you were right now; how ready you were for him. He was giving you this last and final chance…to walk away. You knew what this was; you knew what this would be…and you readily accepted the terms.

If anything, the deal was only made sweeter by his considerations. Most stags are so consumed by the intensity of their rut; they struggle with restraints. Hind/does too.

Struggling with your own senses – now – you swiftly close the gap between you and him. In one quick movement; you leap so that he when he catches you; you are wrapped around him, your legs hugging his waist and your arms winding around his neck. Quick as a whip, he saw you coming and easily pulls you into him. Your momentum presses his back into the doorway. You are kissing him in a desperate way; any thought of reservations melting quickly away. He matches your fervor; his tongue pressing between parting lips and finding yours.

He breaks the kiss briefly and you realize that he is pulling you with him into the hotel room now; the door having opened without you noticing.

“A good little doe…” He muses; carrying you into the room. Stepping inside, he spins so that it is you that is now pressed against the door; it closing behind you as he pushes you firmly against it.

He presses himself against you; pushing you into the wood. You can feel his erection; pressing into you through clothing. You tighten the hold on him that you have with your wrapped legs; moving your hands into his hair, you ball your clawed fingers into fists and begin pulling and biting at his lower lip.

The prod pressing into you starts to become more firm and carefully breaking away from you; he sets you down, steps back and starts to loosen his bowtie. As he slips out of his suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt, you slide out of your own. It lands at a heap on the floor. Looking at him, you briefly register all of his raised and jagged scars – covering his body - but then you suddenly realize that you are standing near a very old and intricately styled mirror. You blush slightly, seeing your aroused reflection looking back at you from its surface.

He chuckles darkly, pressing you back into the door with his long body standing, pushed against you.

“You’re not a shy doe are you?” He purrs into one of your erect long deer ears, one of his clawed hands softly but firmly grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at the mirror.

You gulp, watching the reflection. He is poised over you; a predator enjoying the freezing state of fear he has induced in his prey. Your blush only deepens when he presses into you more; his bare skin touching yours; his member pressing much more sharply into your thigh. You watch yourself reacting to all of this – just as he meant you to – and you are only made more humiliated by the knowledge that all of it arouses you even more.

“You should see how pretty you are when I make you blush, my dear.” He holds your head tilted, making you watch through the mirror as he begins softly kissing, licking and biting at your exposed neck. You squirm and he laughs; soft puffs of breath touching your sensitive skin. Using his free hand, he slides clawed fingers underneath the fabric of your bra; finding a breast. He pinches your nipple and it sends a tightening jolt of pleasure into your belly that sinks lower and lower. Your face flushes deeper, a hint of a sheen of sweat breaking across your forehead.

You gasp and seeing how you do; sends you further into spiraling.

Mesmerized; you watch through the mirror as he releases your nipple – slipping his hand out from your bra - and reaches around, unclasping the hook easily with deft fingers. Still not releasing your face; he hooks the garment in one claw and tosses it aside. Leaning down; he softly kisses your tight, and firm nipples before taking one into his mouth and softly sucking.

“Ahhhhhh….” You breathe, squirming more.

“Hmmmmmm.” He hums, going to the next nipple and sucking again.

You’re quivering now and you’ve started panting. Your pheromone is absolutely pungent and it is making him almost dizzy with each inhale he takes. You see your obvious arousal but you also see his in response; his antlers are stretching, widening….his eyes are flaring a deeper shade of green and casting eerily moving shadows across your skin. Next you feel his erection; jutting from behind the dress pants he still wore – stabbing into you with much more urgency now.

He knows that he would find great pleasure from making you watch yourself – coming undone – by his having you; then and there. But, he also feels his little game overwhelming you now and knows that it really could be just too much. He shifts himself briefly; sliding his hand to the rim of your pants and experimentally pulls at the waistband with one claw. You see this happening through the mirror; a kind of panic grips your heart – knowing where this could lead – and your face jerks slightly as you flinch. This confirms it for him and he immediately releases you; allowing you to finally look away from the mirror.

The shadows move around you and there is a swirling vortex forming a portal just behind him. He steps back into it; reaching his hand out for you to take – if you are so willing – to follow him. Feeling more aroused than you could ever remember – and feeling an incredible adrenaline rush from the mirror play – you readily take it and let him lead you through the swirling dark.

You step onto a soft bed of spring grass, stars and moonlight overhead. Shocked and surprised; you turn all around and assess your surroundings. You were so…distracted…before you hadn’t realized that his room was actually a splitting of dimensions. Seeing the part of the room where the door and the mirror stood just further away now; you realize that he only moved you to a new location within the same hotel suite.

Fireflies skittered about; owls hooted and other soft nightly sounds were drifting from the surrounding swampland. The air smelled of cypress. The entirety of the environment was calling to your demon form; fueling it with an energy and pleasure you had not previously considered. With the scent of the cypress was the sharp scent of Alastor’s musk. Looking at him now, you saw that he was incredibly in need of some relief. Still wearing his dress pants, he was fully erect; his antlers still heavy and long upon his head; eyes flaring but looking at you narrowed and hazed.

Saying nothing, you go to him. Touching his waist, you look up at him – watching his reaction as you undo the clasp near the seam to his pants and slide your hand in. His eyes close and he groans; leaning into your touch. You slide his length out and nearly gasp at how…well…huge he is. It makes you more than a little apprehensive…he’s certainly the largest stag you’ll have ever been with. But, like him, you are fully aroused and are as ready for this as you ever will be.

Releasing him, you quickly start undoing your own pants; shoving them and your undergarments off as he hurriedly does the same for himself.

Knowing it will be the best position for what you both need from this; you kneel onto the soft bed of grass. He takes your face gently in his hand; looking at you with heightened arousal and a kind of…appreciation. Watching you, he moves so that he is stepping around and coming to settle himself behind you; also kneeling.

Your long ears flick back; bowing your head so that you can see him in your peripheral. He reaches for you; you expect him to push you down or forward but he pulls you into him so that your back is pressed against his chest. He slides his clawed hand to your neck, tilting your head back against him as he kisses and nips at your skin. His erection is pressed into your back and you can feel it tracing trails of pre-cum against you as he shifts. He wraps his other arm around you; pulling you closer into him as he firmly takes your breast; teasing your nipple into firmness in his fingers.

You can feel a sliding wetness between your legs and know that you are ready. You groan at his teasing and pushing yourself away from him so that you are now bent down; face to the ground rear raised. He follows you down; briefly touching and stroking your tail before positioning it comfortably out of the way from being inadvertently bent or crushed.

He rises himself on his knees and when he enters you; it’s a deep and blissful penetration. He slides himself in slowly; giving you a moment to adjust to his girth. You can feel a seeping of wet touching the inside of one thigh.

He makes a growling purr; deep in his chest.

“You are so…wet.” He groans, pressing his face into your back.

You don’t say anything; you focus on staying as relaxed as you can. He’s not too big but very nearly.

Slowly, he starts to move – back and forth – and your body responds; adjusting.

You are flooded with heat; a heavy sweat breaking out all across your skin. His musk is flooding your senses and you begin to moan pathetically….desperately. Your pheromones are affecting him as well; and he remembers telling you that: he could and would stop for you at any time - but he is praying to each and every of the seven deadly sins that you don’t ask him to.

Your hands make fists in the grass; and you sink down lower.

This angle gives his length more to access and his tip is pressing, pushing and grinding against that oh so sweet spot you’ve got hidden inside. You can fill his shaft stiffening; filling his member curving inside you and it’s about to drive you both over the edge.

He grips your hips; claws digging painful, pleasantly into the skin: as he thrusts himself into you – deeper and deeper; grunting like the rutting animal he is.

Feeling a delicious coiling of tension; you arch yourself into him.

“Ffffffffuck!” He responds to the movement; his hips jerk sharply; jolting one or two more thrusts into you before he comes undone.

You’re already there; chemicals flood your senses as you reach orgasm. You feel his member stiffen; filling you up with its release before it softens again – your walls tightening and releasing all around it. You notice there is more wetness running down your legs now.

Slowly, carefully, he slides himself out. You collapse into the ground, feeling boneless and weightless. You enjoy this feeling; letting it consume you completely knowing you’ll never have a fuck quite like this one ever again.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fandom challenge #i hope you like smut #because that is what I brought #this is depravity #i crave it #I'm here for it

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drivebyanon · 19 days ago

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Me, coming into Tumblr, all excited to spoil myself a little in the Bucktommy tag before watching the episode:

Wow. What terrible timing to have a breakup like this (at least for our side of the fandom) when we all just want (desperately need) love and hope.

Saying that, I have a different perspective than most but please mind you, I haven’t read the interviews and I’m an overly optimistic person. I’m hoping this is NOT the end.

This is 911, they love to torture their characters and their fans and I’m not convinced it’s over. Some things I am considering:

Oliver has hinted recently about how will they/won’t they make the best stories so I kinda knew something might be coming

A major Abby bomb was dropped and that was just going to be it? They really decided to go there after all our joking about it. And that is it? 🫤 There is more story to be told. Especially how Tommy Freaked the Fuck out! We need, dare I say deserve, a deeper conversation.

People have ignored the Glee conversation with Josh. How silly it may seem, it is important because yes, there was two different realities for lgbtq+ people before and after acceptance became more mainstream because of shows like Glee & Drag Race. Tommy as an older gay man who lived closeted, especially under the misogynistic tyrant of Gerrard, is a wounded bird. And so he reacts like one, by protecting himself from more pain. He can’t seem to accept that Buck would want him forever. He’s afraid. He’s just waiting for Buck to leave him. It would be such a loss if the writers didn’t address these story plots they just dropped in this episode. To really tell this story of what it was like to exist before Glee.

Buck went to old patterns. He is afraid of losing someone so he jumps right in to moving things forward fast, 0 - 60 in 5 seconds. “Will you move in with me.” Right after dropping the Abby bomb? Like come on man! That’s enough to make anyone’s head spin.

@dianaflynn22 pointed out that the parallel storyline was Maddie and Chim. Need we remind people that the 1st season Maddie arrived she became friends with Chim, decided to date him, got kidnapped by her crazy ex and then took a break dating Chim before the season even ended. The road to love on this show is NEVER smooth. I mean come on, even Hen and Karen broke up for awhile after she cheated!

We also haven’t talked about THE dinner date. That was filmed awhile back and we all know was supposed to be reflective of how they began. And once again they were interrupted, and once again Tommy’s insecurities reared their ugly head. Because even if he denied it, he was jealous, he was worried, he remembered what happened with Eddie before (PTSD much).

Apparently Oliver hints at Buck going back to his old ways? I hope I’m not wrong about this, but I think he will fail spectacularly. He’ll try and realize he has moved forward. Am I being too optimistic? Most likely yes. I would like this to push him forward to to confront Tommy and be like “What the hell! You’re a self-sabotaging moron!” And have the real conversation/argument that’s needed. And Tommy needs his own “Come to Jesus” moment. Maybe for once he needs to fight for his own happiness and fight for Buck.

And now that I read this all back and think about it, this was an episode not about Buck but about Tommy’s demons, his failings at his engagement, his emotional shutdown, his insecurities, his self-sabotage. For a show that’s going to move on from this character, they sure set up A LOT to build upon with Tommy.

So I am hopeful that this is not the end. That this is the story they always meant to tell and they are dragging it out. 😬🤞🏽Sometimes I wish Pandora kept that damn box closed because hope can be a cruel creature thing.

#Apolgies for the rambling incoherent thoughts #just trying to digest what I just saw #just seems like they are setting up so much #I’m going to be so disappointed if they don’t follow these plot strings they left hanging #Wvy did I start watching this show?#😅#And they will always be canon #I don’t care what other say #I still love them #and THANK GOD I got rid of twitter #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 spoilers #911 #lou ferrigno jr #oliver stark

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utilitycaster · 3 months ago

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As a Mighty Nein lover, is there anything you want out of the animated series in particular that perhaps wasn't seen or was unemphasized in the improv of the game when obviously no one was aware what paths we'd go down/what would become important later? Any moments you wonder how they'll portray *without* the framework of the dnd game?

I also generally wonder if m9 shipass discourse/whatever weird entitlement ppl had to the official character designs not fitting their headcanons will end up reviving, but largely i feel like the ppl who were stupid about that kind of thing hated the backhalf of c2 so soundly that it would take a deep delusion that "no for sure they'll change the plot" or a true self hatred for them to watch the animation, and ppl coming in WITH the animation likely are going to grab the telegraphed relationships much more soundly since they understand it as Written. (Please tell me if I'm wrong bc I only picked up m9 maybe in the ep50 mark and got involved in fandom spaces much later, but I feel like the weird piss of the fandom got intolerably bad mostly after the covid hiatus? Where ppl had no content for months and created an echo chamber of headcanon while forgetting that the campaign was about anything. This might still happen between animated series seasons but I think people cannot complain anymore that the source material is source material-ing.)

Hi anon,

I don't have any specific wishes. I'm excited that we'll see a little bit from before the campaign, as the Fjord and Jester animatic indicates; would love to see that for Veth and Caleb, and Molly and Yasha as well. Otherwise off the top of my head there isn't really much that we didn't see I really feel the need to see? I like the Briarwoods flashback in TLOVM but there's not a ton in C2 that benefits from turning the camera onto NPCs like that, for example. Maybe a brief Avantika and Vandran moment? Perhaps Essek stealing the beacon? But honestly one of the remarkable things about C2 was that there were so many weird happy coincidences that it accidentally had a lot of foreshadowing you could not have planned.

I've said this a bunch about C3 and some of the ongoing conversations about the gods before but it's relevant here as well: I generally assume that in a fandom space, there will be discourse. There is nothing so clear and obviously telegraphed that someone who's decided to stick their fingers in their ears and harden their heart and turn off their brain cannot ignore or disregard. There are still, to this day, after Fjord and Jester failed to break up in episode 141, the Mighty Nein Reunited, or Echoes of the Solstice and in fact got engaged, and Beau and Yasha are married and Caleb and Essek refer to each other as partners, people who insist that Caleb or Beau and Jester were "supposed" to be endgame but for (unstated nebulous cause that they will not deign to describe because if they do so, there are pretty obvious holes one could poke in it) and I think it's been pretty clearly signaled. People thought that TLOVM would have a Vex and Keyleth romance because of a single frame when they were next to each other. You could have the entire Critical Role cast on camera go "here are the endgame relationships" and someone would be like "well, but what if that was a bluff." I think there might be less discourse among new fans but I do not think there will be none.

For what it's worth, while I do think C2 ship discourse was pretty awful and was exacerbated by a combination echo chamber and the general mood of 2020 and early 2021, I think C3 discourse is, while perhaps less harassment-focused, in much more bad faith. Like, ship discourse can get nasty and awful, don't get me wrong, but I feel like most people involved were either reading things that weren't there specifically about ships but were pretty reasonable about the plot (at least not until very, very late in the game) and I feel like they were genuine fans of Critical Role and had a decent sense of the world and the lore and just. went absolutely nuts and started sending harassment because their blorbos did not kiss and/or get resurrected. Whereas I feel like the worst of C3 discourse involves people who came in with little understanding of D&D nor the world and frankly a decent amount of derision towards everything that came before, proceeded to show up in a clown wig screaming "LISTEN UP FIVES, A TEN IS SPEAKING", promptly shit themselves and started crying, and now are not just wondering why few people like them or taking them seriously but are also throwing out whatever random-ass accusations they think will stick as they sit in the detritus of their increasingly incorrect predictions.

Anyway this is all to say whenever someone is like "surely this revision will prevent fans from interpreting art in a stupid way" my response is "I believe that some people are innovating in the field of stupid interpretations; do what makes you happy and acknowledge that they will always exist."

also, while i'm running my mouth before i go run errands, this is just a blanket statement re character designs and headcanons. (the "you" here is obviously not at anon, but rather the people they described). If you wish a character looked different than their canonical depiction, great. No one is stopping you. If you think canon exists to validate your headcanons, it doesn't. If you think people online saying "I don't like a headcanon" is stopping you from doing anything, it isn't. If you pitch fits about either of those things, you are a self-absorbed child. And if you are really attached to all of your diverse headcanons and yet never seem to gravitate towards characters who are canonically portrayed with those same identities, a whole lot of people are side-eyeing you.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag

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anghraine · 2 months ago

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irresistible-revolution replied to this post:

i'm so grateful for your blog for filtering these discussions through a regular lens of human decency because i honestly don't have the strength to partake in tolkien fandom and its attendant, horrifying white supremacy, but i am interested in nuanced discussions of his work. so, ty

Oh, thank you very much! Tolkien fandom is difficult and frustrating and rarely more so than when it comes to race and gender, even by the usual standards of online fandom. Between the denials that there's any bigotry in the texts he wrote and then the use of that bigotry to cloak the fandom's own racism and misogyny (which IMO far exceeds his own even if you ignore the openly reactionary part of the fanbase) and then the absolute stranglehold of fanon and the films with all the attendant bigotry in those on what the fandom considers to be allowable ranges of interpretation—it's a lot.

It's also the fandom that first inspired me to delurk, where I've seen some of the most compelling, nuanced conversations about works I love, and where I've made many of my closest fandom friendships (in part because the fandom can be so dire!). My fandom existence would definitely be a lot poorer without friends like you and @child-of-hurin, @kareenvorbarra, @nelayn, @scholarlyhobbit, etc as well as the friends I first encountered in other fandoms but ended up bonding with for Tolkien fandom reasons as well, like @brynnmclean and @ladytharen. So I am glad I've been able to find a circle of sorts that I can engage with and where I feel compelled to talk about things that excite and interest me and not only the frustrations, and while I wish the broader fandom was better, I'm gratified to hear that I've been contributing to a more ethically accessible space for Tolkien fans who are effectively shut out otherwise. So thanks again!

#respuestas #nice things people say to me #irresistible revolution #legendarium blogging #legendarium fanwank #anghraine rants

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skyepixels · 1 year ago

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Welcome Home Doesn't Feel Very Welcoming Anymore

To me, it feels voliate and chaotic and especially toxic, and that saddens me so much. But it's also something I expect too as WH becomes more and more popular by the day.

So, why do I? Here's a few reasons I can think of off the top of my head:

Any decision Clown makes regarding their community is often met with either an invalidating concern for their wellbeing to the point of being extremely disrespectful to them as a person or is met with complete disregard alltogether. Not everyone does this, but it's a conversation that's been circling for a bit now.

People within the community are creating opposing sides regarding how they want to engage with WH, resulting in conflicts with one another to the point of name-calling, hate-speech, and even death threats (or so I've heard).

If this community is going to be a place of acceptance and understanding, then that means respecting the boundaries and wishes of each and every person in it without shaming them for who they are. And that includes the sexual stuff. #Playfellowxxx was made for a reason. It was made to keep adult content and minor content seperate. It's the best solution for a community so large and expansive. Trying to coerce an entire internet of fans to be SFW for the sake those uncomfortable with it is asking for the impossible!

My solution? Cater your experience to what WH feels like to you. Do not try to control what other people do, because you can't - that takes away from other people's experiences too, and I don't think this is what anyone wants. Everyone expresses their love for these characters differently (sexually, romantically, platonic, etc), and I don't think there's one unifying vision that we can all reach that would change that. Making room for both SFW and NSFW content is the right move, because it includes everyone. Personally, I support both SFW and NSFW sides of things! Any expression of love, desire, or adoration for characters should be cherished as long as it's done in a healthy way, but I digress.

As for those who believe that Clown was coerced to make the tag? You cannot infer anymore from Clown until they decide to comment on it (if they ever decide to comment on it). Guessing the reasons behind their choices is pointless and futile... and again, leads back into that source of disrespect for them. So, stop playing guessing games with Clown's words and trust them. They know what they're doing, they've generated so much success these past few months, and I'm proud of them for how far they've come as a creator.

Besides, from what I've interpreted, they saw all of this as hilarious, so... laugh! Have fun with it! Enjoy the silliness that is this fandom and stop taking everything so seriously! Go back to loving the characters you love and make the most of it! <3

#welcome home #playfellowxxx #welcome home discourse #skyepixels #welcome home fandom #welcome home arg

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thedrarrylibrarian · 10 months ago

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Have you ever had a day that just went completely to shit? That was the entire month of November for me. I had planned to have this Happy Hour ready then, but between work and home life and hosting for the holiday and everything else...a ball had to drop. I was so disappointed, because I love doing Happy Hour and I love speaking with the creators who help with the guest fic recs.

@ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm could not have been more gracious and understanding about postponing his rec. I always thought his artworkand fics were lovely, but being on the receiving end of the his kindness makes the works even lovelier to me. I love that even in moments of violence, he portrays characters as vulnerable and soft, the gentleness of moments of solitude, and the joyfulness of the mundane. If you haven't checked out Joy's art before, I cannot recommend it enough.

So after waiting for several months, I am finally so excited to share his incredible fic rec. Our first Happy Hour guest rec of the year is by the lovely and gracious @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm.

Outside of things that become fanon, we all travel the worlds of transformative works building up our own personal sense of canon. A lot of that process is wish fulfillment and self indulgence on little pleasures and minor vanities, which is what carves out this perfectly molded comfort that we all shelter ourselves in, what comes together to broadcast our unique wavelengths of bliss. But there is also another part of the process, one that I find myself unconsciously engaging in at times, which is an attempt to rewrite, rewire, recolor the places in which the source material has dulled, or to find cracks and fissures for interpretations that will allow me to engage with the source more meaningfully in the long run while honoring the directions in which I’ve grown and changed. There’s been a lot of work in the Harry Potter fandom that took on the form of a kind of hermeneutics, or that used the setting and characters as a kind of convenient vehicle to make a point about The Real World, in a way that sometimes makes it feel like we, the naive and spirited readers of the source material are somehow distant from the world and must be gently pulled back into it in the language of our distraction. Harry Potter and Welcome to the World of Grey was the first AU retelling of a larger segment of the HP canon where I felt like I was encountering something completely new, something that had the distant shape of these previous approaches at first glance but that, right from the first page, has that almost physical pull of the complete and precious new.

Harry Potter and Welcome to the World of Grey by @sobsicles (456,640 words, rated E)

When Harry fails to keep his anger at bay and Voldemort possesses his mind, the events that follow lead him down a long road to realizing the world isn't as black and white as it seems.

Chaos, hilarity, and tragedy ensue with a Dark Lord being honest all the time, a rival becoming something else, and a world demanding to be saved. Featuring frightened Death Eaters, deep conversations with a monster, Pureblood traditions being ridiculous, and the fight to do the right thing with no true options.

Harry's life just gets more and more bizarre with each passing moment.

Or, the one where Harry's life gets split in half, and he has to figure out how to bring it back together.

The summary is immediately gripping, and I’ll leave the reader to discover the shapes of the AU on their own, but the basic premise of the story is that Harry, at the end of 5th year, does something he would never do in the book, and that as a consequence of (?), or despite (?) or alongside (?) this, him and Voldemort begin to, on a relational and intellectual level, engage in a way that would otherwise be impossible. This story works on so many levels, all of them incredibly crafted and so masterfully sustained over the behemoth length of the first installment. The Harry in this story is funny and young and troubled in the most delicious ways all the while wading in and out of the crushing solitude of predetermination (and also maybe just humanity). I generally read exclusively fics in which they’re adults, or at least on the brink of adulthood in 8th year, but the author has crafted such incredibly convincing teenage characters in both Harry and Draco here that by the end not only do they both end up under your skin but they also become these people that sit alongside you, whose adolescence you’ve literally gone through as both a sympathetic spectator and as a mirror of them, drawn into the irresistible sweet delights of their love, the painful bonding of people captive in their lives, the hope of the future born out of surviving something together.

There is also a tendency in fics to paint the adults of the HP world as traitors, because that’s what the majority of them are, and this is something I also usually engage with. In this fic, while we maintain that the state of the world and the fates that befell all our favourite characters are largely the result of a kind of treason of goodness and responsibility, we also get to have these incredible deep insights into why each adult character is the way they are, through relations made possible only by this unlikely scenario that the author proposes. We also get to have the warm joy of seeing a child empathize with (and pity, and comfort, and teach) people who they owe nothing to, and this is an absolute treasure that shines brighter as we move through the story.

Finally, as this is Happy Hour, apart from all the things I’ve briefly mentioned up there that make this fic a delightful and comforting experience that I constantly go back to, I wanted to talk about a strange way that made this story become my source of comfort. This story made me like Voldemort. Not the terrifying and irredeemable one from the books or the movies. There’s this feeling that I have about fics and fandom, and I think it’s shared by a lot of people who’ve been around for a while, and it’s that these characters and settings and storylines are almost… nebulous things that always existed in us and around us and that we had maybe some slight hope for, but that were first snatched out of non-being and formed by the source material authors. This is also just how art and creativity is, in general - an antenna that beams signals and sometimes someone gets the whole message first. And you grow up and sometimes things are shaped by the source material to make you think oh I’ll feel this way forever and then of course you change your mind, but this was more like an intense, emotional journey in which I realized there was all this personal negativity that I’d always shove into this concept and this being - and that when I encountered the newly formed shape that this author’s Voldemort takes on, my resentments and my fixed darknesses, once unmovable and heavy at the bottom of this big thing in my life, were suddenly things I could walk up to. That the previously unapproachable veil of evil - which is simple, and undebatable - had lifted, and suddenly I could decide to do something else with them, to pick them up and carry them or throw them away, or live alongside them as awkward housemates until suddenly the shame and fear they represented wasn’t something I had to run from. So for happy hour, I picked a story that made me, and continues to make me, engage with not only happiness but a kind of lasting adult joy that comes from letting something come in and help you redraw the city lines of your own story. It’s very precious to me. I read the entirety of this fic in two days next to the crisp Adriatic sea, but I’ve reread it in many settings since then, and it’s always made me both hungry and full in the way that good home cooking does. I hope it does the same for you too.

#ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm #friends of the library #Happy hour #the drarry library happy hour #Friday Happy hour #Harry x draco #Harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #the drarry librarian #thedrarrylibrarian

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