#use this however you want! you can respond with art or writing inspired by this or just brainstorm ideas in the tags | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hiyyihrts · 9 months ago

Text

Parks, Picnics, and Pound Cake: A One-Shot Polin Fanfic

Summary:

Colin Bridgerton is gone for a month-long venture with his brother Benedict for artful inspiration outside of London. Benedict has the time of his life, happy to chat with locals and indulge in new dishes; while Colin can do nothing but write dozens of letters to his wife at home, wishing for nothing but to have her in his arms once again and to feel her warmth.

Colin is convinced she’ll drop everything upon his arrival and take him to their bedroom at once.

Penelope Bridgerton has other ideas for her husband.

AO3:

Colin Bridgerton is many, many things. He’s charismatic, charming, complimentary, practically any word you can think of that starts with a C could be used to describe him. Except for a specific word that comes to mind, but that is a bone to pick for another day. He’s always been partial to C-centric words, though, probably to do with his given name starting with the same. However, any word that could be taken as a compliment in the English alphabet is something that could most likely pertain to Colin.

The only word that no one close to him would use to attribute to his personality would be patience. Specifically, patience when it comes to traveling, and patience when it comes to anything regarding his wife, Penelope.

Since he had given up his lifestyle of traveling for months on end to be with his love, that patience had transmitted itself to something he had to apply to his relationship instead. But not in the sense that he was quick to annoyance or anger. While his wife sometimes tempted those emotions, he rarely came to direct anger anymore since being together. No, his patience stemmed into physical patience. His wife made him nothing short of a saint with the way she made him keep his hands to himself at all occasions, never allowing him to be untoward unless they were alone, in the private of their home or bedchamber of whatever residence they found themselves in.

His patience for this was hung by the skin of his teeth, day in and day out, because his wife was beautiful. She was a goddess come to life, a gorgeous woman that every man should have been desiring for years on end (this, however, was not allowed unless he himself was the one doing the desiring, because no man should dare look at her untoward until he was cold in the ground and long gone from this Earth).

Ringlets of sunset-colored hair and a button nose that he wanted to touch with his own, and deep, ocean-blue eyes he wanted to drown in endlessly, his Venus in her clam shell that would be remembered through his history and then some. The curves of her hips and the fullness of her bosom would be enough to make all of the Greek statues in existence weep with envy. He could lose himself in her beauty, and wit combined, for the rest of his days. Whether she was gazing out a parlor window, pained with the forces of laboring a child, or deep in pleasure writhing beneath him, she was beautiful- always a sight to behold.

And she was his. His love and wife and everything good in this world for him.

So when he’d been gone for a month with Benedict, he had done nothing but crave her. Every morning he awoke to lovely sunrise, with the sun shining in on him with a vibrancy different to the London skies, but it wasn’t quite as appealing to him unless she was beside him. And his brother interrupting the solitude of silence was also an annoyance he could have done without.

He wrote to her, of course, as they always did when they were away from one another for longer than necessary. Even as children they had done so, before they had ever thought of courtship or marriage or anything but being friends. Or, that’s how Colin remembers it at least. Penelope would beg to differ on the timelines and semantics, but that is a tale for another time. But nonetheless, he’d written to her, and she had not responded. He hadn’t expected her to, as the time it would take for the letters to arrive could vary greatly, and they’d been home by the time any of them had crossed into the country anyhow. Most of them were nothing but his longing for her and their child. He missed them both terribly, and he missed the intimacy he’d grown accustomed to from them both.

He’d been ecstatic to arrive back in London. It was all he could do not to jump out of the carriage once they’d neared London and run at his full speed all the way to his love. He hadn’t done that, though, obviously. He’d been patient. Like his wife would have wanted him to be. He’d waited a month to see her, after all; a few more hours wouldn’t hurt him. Although, they might make him combust from the inside with nerves, but nothing physically capable, anyhow.

The carriage ride had them stopping in front of Number Five like anticipated around mid-day. His wife was to be there with his mother, Violet, and Benedict’s wife, Sophie, upon arrival to greet them after their travels.

But once Colin stepped down from stifling heat of the carriage, his wife was no where to be seen. In fact, only his mother greeted them at the front gates, a large smile on her face. She took quick steps forward to embrace her two songs in one large embrace. They had to bend down to accompany her size, and both when released gave her a kiss on the cheek. Both men looked at her with the unasked question that hung in the air- Where were their wives?

Violet puffed out a quiet laugh, “Ah, it’s been so hot this morning that the ladies have had to keep cool inside. They said they would be on their way out in a moment, but it’s been a few bit since then.”

Colin looked up to the sky at that. The sun beat down uncharacteristically hot. Not a cloud lazed in the sky, making its beams feel all the more oppressive out in the open, unwelcome unless obscured by shade. He was starting to feel a prickle of sweat along his back standing outside, with hardly a breeze to cool him off. After a moment he heard the click of a door opening, and he stared past his mother to the front door. It took him a moment to adjust to not looking directly at the sun (stupid of him, he knows) but when he did he saw his wife and Sophie stepping down the walkway towards them.

Ah, how he missed his Pen.

He felt his breath leave his lungs in a rush and his heart swell in his chest, tight and aching for her. She wore a stunningly blue piece, light in color with white trim, and her hair laid coiled in an updo as it usually did most days. The color shown fiery in the sunlight while her dress shown pale, as if it were translucent in color and not a baby blue ensemble.

While Sophie ran to meet Benedict, Penelope hurriedly came to him with tears in her eyes threatening to fall and a radiant smile crossing her face. Penelope wasn’t one for theatrics or inappropriate advances, especially in public where eyes were always on one another, so she refrained from hugging him and halted with stuttering steps in front of him. She was mere centimeters away yet Colin felt as if an ocean lay between them. His fingers twitched at his sides to brush the tear that had fallen from its stubborn hold of her blue eyes, but he refrained. He was a gentlemen after all, her being his wife or no.

“Colin.” She said, smiling at him with flushed, rose colored cheeks.

”Pen.” He replied, with probably just as flushed skin as she, taking in every niche and sight of her he could.

A bead of sweat dropped from her hairline to her cheek, and ran down the line of her jaw to her, mixing with the stray tear, and landed on her chest. Colin’s eyes flitted to the droplet, now sliding down to the dip between her breasts and flowing to a place he’d dreamed about for weeks now. He licked his lips and sucked in a shaky breath. He forced his gaze to flit back up to hers, focusing on something other than the fantasies he’d had over his travels about her.

She must have been thinking the same, because her smile widened into a grin, and she had that teasing look in her eye she got when she was meant to playfully scold him. She must want to get out of the sight of his family as fast as he did.

She took a step closer and brushed her gloved fingers with his and said, “I’ve arranged for a picnic.”

———

“When you said you’d like for us to go for a picnic, I hadn’t thought you actually meant a picnic.” Colin grumbled.

He held Penelope’s arm in the crook of his elbow, trailing her along for a promenade along the river. He had to bend slightly to adjust to her height, but he made it work, even if it was slightly uncomfortable to stagger about. They nodded to other couples and families they passed by, a few mumbled names and “Mr. Bridgerton and Mrs. Bridgerton’s” following suite. He shifted the small basket his mother’s cook had arranged for them on his arm. He would never admit it out loud but it was becoming a bit tedious to carry. And by God was it hot. His hair kept sticking to his forehead and rivulets of sweat were running down his back at lightning speed. He sure Penelope wasn’t fairing much better. The fan in her hand had been working overtime to keep a modicum of her complexion less flushed, but it would be of no use. She was prone to a red tinge as it was, and the heat only accentuated the color.

“Don’t be melancholy, Colin. I thought it’d be nice for us to promenade after so long away from one another. It’s also a nice day out. We should enjoy it while it lasts.” Penelope remarked, always trying to look for the positive in any situation.

He grunted in reply, trying not to yank her arm up as he maneuvered the basket again.

”I rather thought there’d be other things on your mind after not seeing your husband for a month rather than a damned promenade.”

Penelope swatted at his arm harshly, “Colin Bridgerton, do not speak that way.” She lowered her voice to a hissed whisper, “Not while we’re in public, at the very least.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, but held his tongue. She was right, of course, but she had a way of bringing out his fallacies like no other that made him want to curse as if it were his first profession.

“Besides, what else would you have had in mind if not a nice promenade?” Her tone remained aloof as she asked the question, but her eyes moved too quickly away from his own to warrant any other response except for a cheeky remark.

He stepped slightly closer to her side, pulling her into him, slowing their walk to a crawl. He leaned down until his breath hit the shell of her ear, and said, “I’m sure we can think of a few ideas, my love.”

She did not reply, yet her chest rose and fell quickly, and her hold on his arm tightened slightly. Colin looked down to her gloved hand fisted into his coat sleeve, and he knew some chord had been struck.

Penelope cleared her throat and looked off to to the distance, focusing on some geese or tuft of grass that held no actual significance to her. It was just a way to distract herself from what her husband was implying to her out in the open. A cherry red flush creeped up her neck and Colin was quick to take notice.

He bit his lip to contain his smile, pulling her closer to his side. Or, at the very least as much as social propriety allowed between a husband and wife in public. If anything she could blame the flaming of her skin to the scorching sun overhead, and no one would be none the wiser.

But they would know, of course. And, God, he wanted this picnic to be over with now more than ever.

Colin quickened their pace along the walkway, foregoing minimal formalities if they passed by anyone walking towards them. Spotting a thicket of trees that led into a more dense forest ahead of them, he steered them off the popular path and pushed his wife towards a small dirt step way, Penelope uttering a snapped “Colin!” as he did.

As they traveled further into the forest, Colin realized that the path he’d chosen was hardly even a path at all. It was an unclear rut of rocks and packed dirt, and both him and Penelope struggled to work their way through the thicket. The only reason he’d led them this way was because he knew of a small, secluded clearing he’d discovered in his youth with his brothers. They’d hide out here to get away from their Mother during promenades, if they could help it at all.

Violet never caught on to their antics, so it’s even more likely no one else would find him and his wife here, either. And that, in the moment for Colin, was the most glorious thought he’d ever had.

Penelope stumbled a few times, her skirts catching on fallen branches and thickets. Colin was there to hold her up with an arm wrapped around her waist in support, feeling her let go of her own weight to have him hold her. He relished in it, being able to feel the curve of her stomach and grip her hip through the fabric of her gown, almost as if he could feel her skin between his finger instead.

Soon. Soon he would be able to feel her in full.

When they finally reached the end of the path, Penelope gasped, surprised to see a clearing of grass dotted with blooms of flowers all around. A tree bore overhead a portion of the clearing, providing some shade from the sweltering sun even further above.

“Oh Colin, it’s beautiful.” She said.

He grinned.

And led her to the patch beneath the tree, setting the basket down at his feet and opening it to see if a blanket had been provided for them to sit on. Of course, there was, as his mother’s cook and maids were always very meticulous when it came towards her children. There weren’t many items in the basket, as the blanket took up most of the room, but there were a few sandwiches and some lemon pound cake for dessert. No beverages, though. Alas, some moments couldn’t always be perfect.

Birds chirped a melody above their heads, and the taller grass swayed in the slight breeze that had steadily built as the day dragged on. Colin laid the thin blanket out as flat as he could manage, and held his wife’s hands as she sat herself down and bent her legs underneath her. She fixed her skirts to splay out in a circle around her, and it seemed to swallow her short frame whole, and her eyes buzzed with a shine of excitement and love.

Oh, how he’d missed her.

Sitting himself down beside her, he divided their portions using the utensils that had been provided, and they ate quietly. The silence of the moment and the solitude of the clearing washed over them, calm and resolute. He’d missed his wife’s body, yes, how could he never not miss the shape of her and the feel of her pressed against him? He’d have to be mad to think otherwise. But, he would never be remised to admit that he missed her company alone even more so. Her whit and humor were what brought a smile to his lips first thing in the morning. Her light laughter at something he’d said or something their child had done in learning were what made him want to walk this Earth endlessly. He’d do anything to keep his wife and child in his life for as long as he could. So, yes, he missed her body, but he missed her soul even more.

Beside him Penelope delicately took her gloves off to eat her dessert. The sandwiches hadn’t been too messy for her, so she’d kept them on, but the dessert was too hearty and coated with melting icing. She picked a slice up placed between her ring, forefinger, and thumb, gripping it with an intensity even he found admiring. He appreciated someone as involved with their food as he was.

He watched as she held the slice to her mouth and took a bite from it, chewing methodically, not taking notice to the pair of eyes trained on her movements. A dribble of icing coated the corner of her lips. The tip of Penelope’s tongue darted out to lick it away, trailing across her plump bottom lip and sweeping along the other corner. She hummed in approval as she swallowed the first bite- and Colin felt it rumble low in his groin.

She continued eating her cake, oblivious to her husband’s molten gaze holding her captive. The heat was stifling, even while in the shade, and her slice of lemon cake wasn’t immune to its forces. The icing that the cook had probably slaved over in the early hours of this days morning was undone in mere minutes outside. It trickled down slowly between Penelope’s fingers, drawing a line down her palm to the delicate bend of her wrist. And Colin’s eyes followed relentlessly. Her gloves were gone, and her arms were bare and pale and glowing with lemon-glazed goodness. She allowed the icing to drip and drop and flow down her fingers and hand while her husband’s resolve faded to dust.

His patience for her finally snapped when she opened her mouth and inched her fingertips towards her outstretched tongue. Colin grasped her forearm and hurled her forward. Penelope let out a burble of words that didn’t quite form coherently into anything and fell into her husband’s chest and into his personal space. Her left hand was held in Colin’s iron grip, and her right landed precariously on his thigh, dangerously close to his throbbing need.

Patience, patience, Colin.

Penelope’s eyes flitted back and forth from Colin’s hold on her to his own heady gaze. His eyes darkened and he leaned in to her icing-covered fingers. His wife’s breath puffed out, hot and smelling faintly of lemon, against his lips, then hitched when he darted his tongue out to lick at the pad of her fingers. Her cheeks flushed bright red. Her hand on his thigh clenched into a fist, holding tight to the thick fabric. Colin took the pad fully into his mouth, sucking lightly, bobbing his head down one knuckle, then the next, until her finger was completely between his lips and his tongue circled it clean. When he finished with the first finger, he moved to the next, then to her thumb, licking and swirling as if he were between her legs and sucking the sensitive bud hidden within her folds. Satisfied with the state of her fingers, he lapped at her palm, then dipped his head down to lick and bite at the thin skin of her wrist.

She let out a whimper from her parted lips, leaning impossibly forward until her eyes were level with his and their mouths were centimeters apart. Colin continued his kitten licks along her palm, sighing out against her skin, “You cannot know what you do to me, my dear.” Her head tilted so her lips could graze the stubble along his cheek, carving a path to the lobe of his ear, which she took between her teeth for a moment. Colin fought the urge to tip his head back and let her work her plump, radiant lips at the line of his jaw, a low groan forming in the back of his throat.

Penelope’s breath hit the shell of his ear, and it made him shiver in the heat of the summer day, “Mr. Bridgerton, you forget that I know all in this town and relationship.”

Colin’s resolve snapped along with his patience, thrown to the wind and gone for the while. He crushed her flush to him, finding her lips as quickly as he could in his haste. It was nothing but teeth and open mouths, carnal and anything short of a romantic, lingering kiss. He wanted her, and she wanted him. The romantics would have to wait for later.

She moaned into his mouth the moment his tongue touched hers, whining and full of need. Her breasts pushed against his chest in the best way, and her hand roamed in altering grips in his hair, her other moving closer and closer to his hard on for her. Sweat was already forming on their temples, running in rivulets down their cheeks and stinging their eyes when they opened to find a place the other wanted to devour. Penelope lingered on his lips at first, then she changed her mind and mouthed at the curve of his jaw and neck. Colin’s eyes darted to the deep cleavage exposed by her position against him, hunger clouding his vision. They were practically ripping the seams of her dress, begging for them to be taken into his mouth and worshipped.

His fingers moved aptly towards the few buttons that trapped her inside the suffocating gown, undoing them with a swiftness that even a seamstress would be impressed by. Before he pulled it down, he grabbed Penelope by her bottom and heaved her into his lap, making an attempt for her to straddle his waist. She obliged, doing her best to hike the fabric of her dress up and around her thighs. Though she participated in the action, her words were hesitant, not as confident as she’d been a moment ago whispering into this ear.

“Colin-“ He dragged her dress down her shoulders, helping her slide her arms out of the holes. “We’re in public!” Colin undid the bindings of her bodice, though simple in style, it was hard to maneuver through. He grunted at her as he struggled to undo the ties, his fingers fumbling and shaking with nerves.

”It does not matter.”

”But what if someone sees-“ She hissed.

”They do not matter!” Colin growled, ripping the bodice in frustration and tearing it off of Penelope in one fell swoop. The gasp that escaped her turned in to a low moan as Colin cupped at her breasts.

“Finally.” He murmured, dipping his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth, teething it to a hard bud. She arched into him, her legs tightening around his waist and cried out.

Colin released her at the sound, glancing up through his lashes at his wife, deep cherry red cheeks and parted lips kissed raw and swollen. He made sure to accentuate each breath against her goose-fleshed skin as he said “If you don’t want someone to find us, my dear, you need to be quiet.”

She whined and rocked her hips down. “Make me, please, Colin.”

Christ above, Penelope Bridgerton was going to drive him to absolute madness.

He flashed her a grin, giving her a quick kiss on her lips and cheek. “Trust me, love. I imagine what I plan will have it nigh impossible for you to keep your pleasures at bay.” Her response was to grind on his clothed length.

He strained against his breeches, aching and uncomfortable in its entrapment. He shifted to lower Penelope onto her back on the blanket so he could remove his garments. She moved to cover her top with her arms, but a sharp glare from Colin had her lowering her arms to lay on either side of her head instead. Her hair laid like an orange halo around her, blending in to the shade of red her skin was turning at being exposed. Her skirts had draped down over her legs again, covering her deliciously decadent thighs. It irked Colin, and Penelope could notice. She quirked a brow at him in question of if he was going to act on it.

Slowly, he took the hem of her skirts and lifted it back up. He made sure to graze along her legs with his fingers as he did, and also making sure his wife didn’t cross her knees together in embarrassment at her womanhood showing so openly. No undergarments were in sight, letting Colin take in all of Penelope’s beautiful intimates. He swallowed at how she dripped with need, with want, for him, no less. It was enough to make a man fall to his knees in devotion.

Colin licked his dry lips, sucking in a sharp breath of air. He caught Penelope’s gaze and held it as he went to reveal himself. His fingers fumbled in anticipation, but he eventually got his breeches down to his thighs, his member springing free finally after a month of longing to be sheathed in his wife for eternity. No matter how many times they did this he always felt the giddy anticipation of a green boy in love for the first time. It was how Penelope always made him feel, and had made him feel, for many years now.

He shuffled to hover over Penelope, settling himself between her legs, taking her dress and hiking it further over her legs. Her chest heaved up and down as his fingers brushed stray hairs from her face. He nodded at her for reassurance, and she nodded subtly back, cheeks flushing like a young maiden in love.

He first touched her with his fingers, feeling her heat and wetness along the pads, feeling her in her most vulnerable areas. He wanted to make the slide as painless as possible for her, of course. He wasn’t going to get pleasure if she wasn’t feeling it as well. When he inserted his finger down to the knuckle she sighed, closing her eyes as he crooked it inside her, in and out again. He paused after a moment to insert another, and paused every few menstruation’s to wet his length for her. Every time he pulled out she opened her eyes to make sure he was coming back, mewling at him when he inserted his fingers inside her again. She bucked her hips up when he had three in all to their knuckles, not quite reaching that bundle of nerves she needed him to, but so close all the same. Every time he neared it she bucked up into him, mouth hung open in pleasure.

Colin watched her writhe beneath him until she was close, then he stopped abruptly. She looked at him with both a mix of rage and the most adorable pout of her lips she could muster, and he couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“I think you’re ready, now.” He grinned at her, adjusting himself and lining up to her entrance.

She did nothing but huff at him, but he noticed she inched her hips closer and closer to him. As the tip of his shaft entered her, he trembled, shook with the pleasure of feeling her around him again. He’d thought about it, dreamed about it, and had even written about his want to be buried within her over his time away. He was a man in love and a man without for so long, it was bound to make him practically delirious with desire when he arrived home.

And now he was here, not dreaming, not imaging it, but here with his wife. In the park, on a picnic in a secluded area of the woods, eating lemon pound cake, and fucking his wife like they’d never get the chance to again. He tried to be gentle as he fully sheathed himself in her, grinding his hips lightly against her in an effort to be slow. Once he was in all the way, they both paused, breathing heavy, staring into the other’s deep, blue eyes.

This was love. This moment right here. It wasn’t the main one, but it was love in its purest form, in its most vulnerable and pivotal. They were both exposed in more ways than one, but they were exposed together, with one another.

Colin cupped Penelope’s cheek with his palm, brushing his thumb along her swollen lips. “Open for me, love.�� And she did. Her lips parted and he slipped two of his fingers lightly inside, resting the pads of them on her tongue. Her teeth grazed his skin, not unpleasantly. “Now close.” He ordered. And she wrapped her lips around his digits, holding them there in place. His slid his hips back to slide out of her, the air hitting his heated skin and making him shiver again. He took his other hand to hold Penelope’s next to her head, clasping their fingers together and intertwining them, and he squeezed.

Penelope bobbed her head in a nod, and Colin slammed back into her with a force he’d been holding back on until now. He buried himself in and out of her relentlessly, slamming into her for any sort of relief he could find for his aching cock. Penelope bit down on his fingers as he hurried his pace, moaning with each hit inside her, squeezing Colin’s hand in a death grip that he was sure to leave bruises along the back of his hand when they were done. She tried to thrash her head to the side, but Colin’s hold on her with his fingers prevented her from doing so.

She was slick and warm for him, making his relentless pace in and out of her an easy slide. It spurred him on, knowing she was this wet for him and only him, and that she’d only be this way for him always. No one else would be privy to how she looked when she was on the flush of an orgasm, or when she was close to screaming from his pleasuring, nor would anyone ever witness how utterly wrecked he must look lusting over her, his wife, his everything to him.

Colin kept his pace, fraught at the thought of tiring himself out after waiting so long for her. He was close, embarrassingly close for such a short time, and he couldn’t hold himself back from wanting to drive into Penelope with wild abandon. He mumbles a sorry as he rips his fingers from their hold in her mouth and unclasps their hands so he can grip her hips instead. He rocks back to sit on the balls of his heels, lifting Penelope’s hips up so he can slam into her at an angle now, sheathing himself deeper and deeper into her for relief.

Now he was hitting that sweet spot of hers he loved so much, her cries inaudible as she reaches her peak. She lets out the tiniest of moans when she comes, tightening around Colin’s cock inside her. And it’s enough to send him spiraling. He spills into her soon after, her whines urging him on and keeping him ramming into her until he’s spent completely.

When he’s through, Colin collapses on top of his wife, caging her in with his frame. They both heave with exhaustion, the clearing silent but for their labored breathing. Colin goes soft inside her, but he doesn’t want to pull out. He enjoys her warmth, arousal or not, and wants to relish in this moment with her.

Colin hears a sniffle in his ear. He whips his head up to see his wife crying, arousal flushed cheeks streaked with tears.

“Pen, what is it? What’s wrong?” He inquires, worried he’d done something to hurt her in his endeavors.

Penelope wipes at her eyes, shaking her head. Colin holds himself up, ready to pull out of her, but she stops him, gripping his forearm tightly.

“No, no. Stay, please.” She says.

He stills, stiff in her hold.

”Please, Pen, tell me what did I do wrong?”

Her eyes grow watery again and her lips wiggle in a pout. She wraps her arms around Colin’s neck and yanks him down to her, maneuvering his head to rest in the crook of her neck. He feels more tears wet his cheeks as they fall between them.

“I… I just missed you so much, Colin.” Penelope confesses.

That’s when Colin realizes that he hadn’t actually done anything to hurt his wife. She just missed him. As he missed her. This was what he loved about his love, this was what love meant to him. It meant Penelope loving him for him. It meant Penelope missing him. It meant Penelope going along with his antics of fucking in a public park, amongst the eyes of God and men alike.

She was his. And he was hers. She was home.

———

“Colin, did you leave my basket at the park?”

Violet questioned her son upon his arrival to Number Five. He arrived alone. With no basket, and no wife in sight.

“No, no, mother, I have it right here.” He hastily places it on the table next to his mother where she sits in the drawing room, observing her son.

”You were gone for quite a while.” She remarks.

Colin nods, “We haven’t seen one another for quite a while.”

”Hm.” Violent hums.

”Well then, mother, I’ll be taking my leave. It was lovely to see you again.”

Her son kisses her on the cheek and then walks out of the room. If she notices the blush that crept along his neck at her questioning, she doesn’t say.

And if her cook finds a ripped bodice bundled up in the blanket within the picnic basket later on in the week, they certainly do not say so.

#this isn’t supposed to be canon it’s just smith I thought would be fun! don’t take it too seriously #bridgerton #polin #polin fic #polin fanfiction #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope bridgerton

93 notes · View notes

siarven · 6 months ago

Text

I made this for cara but thought I should use it to FINALLY make a proper pinned post on here! (image descriptions in alt text)

Hello everyone (:

I thought I'd use this to properly re-introduce myself. These days I have a lot going on irl, so I'm not as interactive on here as I used to be. However, I love making new friends and getting to know their projects :D Some of my most important friends are from here, even if most of them are no longer active on writeblr (we have migrated to discord), so if you think we'd vibe pls shoot me a message!!

What you can expect:

Started out as an artblr, then turned into a writeblr, now it's mostly me collecting inspiration, art and writing references, with some infrequent original writing wip/art posts ✴︎ — more info about tags and writing below the cut — ✴︎

✴︎ — #queer tag - I reblog a lot of queer related posts, particularly about aro/ace and gender related topics

✴︎ — #inspirational - art, writing, photography, nature/environmental issues related topics, history, paleontology, archaeology; things I find inspiring and fascinating :D

✴︎ — i love all of the creatures, fictional or real, but less in a "cute videos" and more in a "I love how our world works" type way. I worked at a wildlife sanctuary for a year after school and learned a lot there. one day i will be the forever home for an old cat nobody else wants

✴︎ — sometimes I still post art and or writing, though I guess there'll be more art on Cara if you wanna follow me there (less AI threat)

✴︎ — i study concept art, work as a freelance illustrator, and am currently working on my MA thesis project "Fragments of the Infinite"

✴︎ — my main wip novel (Dream's Shadow) is probably finally getting close to being Finished. Feels somewhat surreal. idk if it's even worth querying it because it really doesn't fit into the current publishing world but it's not actually finished yet anyway so... we can worry about that later

✴︎ — very into fantasy with cool worldbuilding in particular. don't much care for elves/dwarves/.. fantasy preindustrial england type worlds, but dungeon meshi is my current obsession so if it's deeply developed and interesting enough I don't really mind :)

✴︎ — hopepunk my most beloved! i do love when characters get put through the wringer to get to their hopeful ending though. Sometimes, things are tragic in a bittersweet way, and that is okay too

✴︎ — deeply nuanced, complicated, messy morally grey characters driving the narrative

I am open to tag games, but will probably only manage to respond to like 10% of them... it's not you, it's me

Always open for DMs or asks <3

I try to tag everything as well as I can, if i forget, ask to tag <3

If you're into TMA, I have a podcast/TMA blog @moth-song-archives; my rambling animals/shitposts/memes/other fandoms/... blog is @lirhin, and I have a dedicated art blog @siarvenart

a hopepunk dark fantasy story with creepy/horror elements set in another world; small scope that transitions into epic fantasy later on

Status: draft 6.5 completed at 141k; currently mini-beta round. First in a trilogy

✴︎ —1st, 2nd and 3rd person limited, present tense ✴︎ — hopepunk, sibling dynamics, dysfunctional family, power of kindness & love, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, secrets, tragedy, lies, betrayal, loss of innocence, holding on & letting go, cute creatures, (in)humanity, trees, religion & belief, growing up, monsters, dreams, nightmares.

When Ava and her parents arrive at the hospital, they find her older brother Ben in a deeply unnatural coma - and nobody can tell them what happened. Despite the magical abilities of the Asim Healers, there seems to be no way to save him. But then, why do they still keep him alive? As Ava slowly learns the magnitude of how terrible Ben's situation (and impossible his future) truly are, she finds herself embroiled in a larger conflict, ready to hook its claws into her as well. And the one person she cares about most - who always had her back - is gone. So despite everything, there's only really one choice: Find out how to save him and try anyways.

the travel journal of a young scientist, documenting the cultures, places, people and creatures she encounters on the way (art/text)

Status: storyboard/script 2nd draft completed; beta feedback

✴︎ —1st person present ✴︎ — 66 double pages of art accompanied by ~10k text ✴︎ — hopepunk, (body) horror, religion & belief, nihilism vs making your own meaning, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, transitioning with magical body horror means, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, deep worldbuilding, eldritch monsters, loss of innocence, SO MANY creatures

Features: a tidally locked planet orbited by 5 moons and populated by giant eldritch monsters; two trans aroace main characters; body horror; so much art; the most gratuitous worldbuilding project; character driven narrative

When the fifth moon hatches during Thorn's own naming ritual, making her one of 2 people who saw it happen, she knows she's been chosen. But back at home, nobody believes what she saw, choosing to instead take the moon's disappearance as a sign of celebration as it mirrors religious scriptures. So Thorn sets out to find physical proof, and uses the opportunity to document her travels. She doesn't know that her view of the world will be thoroughly challenged, but she also doesn't know about the friends she'll make <3

I have various other wips, some of them are linked in my header. I'll return to them at some point, but these 2 are my current projects for 2024:)

#if you wanna connect on cara please come visit :3 #now that i have finished this thing i feel like i can finally actually interact on there lmao #about me #pinned post #writeblr intro #writeblr #idek what i am hoping to accomplish with this but anyway yes XD

37 notes · View notes

landsoflightanddark · 14 days ago

Text

Bullet points on Project Robot

So, I've decided I do plan to do a stream analyzing the trailer - however I'm not sure how soon this will be, as it will take some prep and I'm not really used to doing stuff like it (& some other reasons). I also want to wait at least a week or 2 to see if any more info or interviews come out.

But I don't just want to save all my thoughts for that so I figured I'd write some of my major ones here, and you can assume these will be elaborated on in the stream:

I've been extremely satisfied with the general audience reception to the trailer. People know Ueda's 3 games, and in the many reactions I've watched, any scoffing at "Epic Games Publishing Presents" was immediately cast aside once the "from the creator of" text appeared.

I love how much of a fan Geoff Keighley is, referring to the game as "highly anticipated" even though no one but hardcore Ueda fans would really even know it was in the works

There is a background noise at the beginning of the trailer sounds extremely similar to this oscillating sort of noise heard at the beginning and end of "You Were There."

The English, to me, is an early indication that this game will likely not be connected to the others, or will be connected very loosely as TLG was.

The first close-up shot of the character's costume - I wonder why that's there?

Could this be Ueda's first female playable character?

I love that it's a gameplay clip - I think we will be playing through a situation, or multiple, just like this in the actual game.

It's going to be a big game, Ueda's biggest yet potentially by far.

Insanely, it could be said that this is the first Ueda game to start development in the period after games began to be heavily inspired by Ico & SotC. Dev for The Last Guardian would have likely began before that happened (pre-Demon's Souls at least.) This could have impacted his desire to do something a little different.

We know Ueda does have a desire for his games to be loved by a larger audience, but I don't think that will ever compromise his games being so....him. I think it is good to keep in mind for this game though.

The animations, of course, are spot-on.

The robot is so detailed, every part rendered. The art of the robot arm was so detailed, it doesn't surprise me to see that.

It strikes me that the robot does not look friendly or like something we should get attached to. The body may be considered disposable by the main character - perhaps the head is as well? If there is a companion character in this game, it may not be the robot, per se.

I don't think we will see the girl and beast from the 2018 New Year's card at all in this.

I'm not sure there will be much combat and this may be more of an exploration game like Death Stranding.

What could have possibly caused massive explosions of mechanical detritus to be spreading across the land at regular intervals? I think they are reoccurring and will be a main obstacle in this game. It reminds me of the section of "Inside" where an extremely destructive shockwave emanates every few seconds from an unknown source.

From far away, the shockwave looks like shadow or dark magic, like in Ueda's other games. It surprised me to see that it was just a bunch of big mechanical parts.

That's all for now! If you have any thoughts or ideas feel free to comment or send an ask, I will respond.

#project robot #game 4

10 notes · View notes

tamelee · 1 year ago

Note

As a beginner artist im only happy when people reupload and share my art. I don’t want to be arragont enough to think im like samdoesart or something and you’re not really on that level either no offense though your art is inspiring me a lot

Okay, I'll address this then... (Art-rant for anyone who cares;)

... no offense taken. I'm very aware of my (skill)’level' in art and definitely feel a certain type of way about it ;-; .... but that aside, what is your argument here?

Is anyone who doesn't want their art reposted or uploaded on other accounts considered arrogant? Is there some kind of popularity threshold you need to cross before you can request something as simple as this? And if so, what's that threshold to you? I'm genuinely curious.

When does someone become "good" enough to have the right to say that their art is theirs and protect it from being stolen or decide where it gets shared? Who has any say in it, other than the artist or creator themselves? Isn't that extremely subjective to base it solely on that?

Hm. If you're a beginner artist, I'd like to offer some advice....

It's entirely up to you whether you read it, give it any thought, or find it valuable in any way. I'm no Sam, after all. But there are plenty of ways for others to support your art, engage with it, or share it even in their own accounts without taking anything away from the original creator, whether it's art/writing or any other type of creation. However, it's also perfectly fine if you personally don't care about it or if someone allows it only with proper credit because that's your decision as.. you know- the original creator.

You mentioned that you're happy when your art gets reuploaded as a form of "sharing." But do you know what makes me the happiest as an artist Nonee?

Do you know what really brightens my day? 🥹

...It's knowing what people are saying about my work because I can read it on my own posts that are on my own accounts. When I can respond and take it in fully. When I see people using tags that make me snort my drink or when I have to stifle a laugh to the point I’m choking because it's just SO funny! (I genuinely need to make a compilation!!) Sometimes, I get comments that are cursing me out in a playful manner, and it's often followed by an incoherent keyboard-smash. I end up making embarrassing alien-like noises because of it that makes me more grateful than ever to live alone. Other times, I bawl my eyes out because someone left a comment or tagged it with something that just hits differently. A while ago, I got an ask that said I should stop saying 'thank you' on everything because it got repetitive/annoying(?), but I genuinely feel so grateful for all of it 😭!!

I get new ideas because someone suggested something different. I see friends having entire conversations under a drawing that I'm not even a part of because apparently, what I drew resonated with them personally, or it made them feel a certain way, which is oddly fulfilling with art ;-; Just so you know, I read everything... and all this feedback (because it's all feedback in a way) can be very inspiring, don't you think?

Honestly, when it comes to activities like drawing, it's true that it is better to never do it solely for the sake of engagement. Drawing, or more specifically, living as an (aspiring) artist is incredibly lonely.

So, so lonely...

Relying on engagement alone to keep you creating for hours, days, years, or maybe even decades is just not sustainable. It takes an enormous amount of time and dedication to practice, come up with new ideas, and endure the inevitable frustrations that come with it. With anything, keeping yourself inspired at times takes effort also because it requires for you to be in a state of mind that allows new idea’s in the first place which in itself takes practice because you won’t always feel like drawing. You might even encounter nasty comments or discover that something you poured your heart into gets criticized, YOU as a person may even be criticized because what you drew with your current skills (and such a journey is never-ending) in a single moment could get paired with your entire personality or even your humanly morals (ffs) to judge. Which can be more hurtful than you'd expect... especially in the beginning.

Although it may sound silly, the saying "the fun is in the journey” is very real and likely the most important thing to keep you going as an artist. No matter what, you gotta have fun or find a way to have fun.

Yet, even so, now more than ever, the process of creating is very underappreciated as many are looking for “content” that's quickly generated for entertainment. Tsk, some even call art “content” which, IT IS NOT. It's a proven fact that we, as humans, currently have become dopamine junkies with short attention spans. (I totally understand this – I was diagnosed with ADD, hence my extreme hyper-fixations also 😆 it's both a blessing and a curse, tbh.) So, right now, the very thing that can support artists (which means you as a beginner also!) on their creative journey is letting them know you appreciate their art in any way or just let them know your thoughts maybe even by specifying what it was you liked about it so they can carry that into their next drawing.. which is only truly possible through your own accounts y’know? :’) I'm being sincere when I say this really can help.

I get that many people believe that creating should be satisfying in itself, and everyone may expect you to think that way because, after all, you want people to see what you've made and a reposter ‘helps’ you with that, so, it should be enough and you should be happy and grateful actually. Anything beyond that might be considered "arrogant."

And... based on your ask, it seems like you might view having your art reuploaded as a form of 'help,' and if that's the case, it's totally fine. But I want to share a rather harsh reality, because even if those who repost your art provide credit...

They don’t do it for you and it’s not necessarily because they love your art so much 👀 rarely anyone cares to go through a description full with useless trend-based tags or promotive texts they always use only to put in the effort to find your name and most likely, if they follow such accounts there is zero connection with the original artist/creator which means it is WAY more likely in this case that the art you worked on for idk how long ends up becoming a forgettable blur as it is scrolled past 🤷🏻‍♀️

And even if the reposter likes your art personally, that's probably not their primary motivation to share it (except for a very few who are in it for a fandom, sns has a few also). Art that gets ‘selected’ for reposting is typically selected with a specific, often trend-oriented, goal that has little to do with the artist. It's frequently shared with the mindset of a rather poorly-driven marketer. Especially on platforms like IG- many of these accounts exist to benefit the account owner only by making high(er)-follower accounts that later get a different purpose. Many of these accounts will discard all art once it has reached an engagement goal to then move onto something new that's more financially profitable to the account owner, which original art by others is not. And yeah, a lot of these accounts are sold after. There are especially many now due to the IG affiliate program, and recently tiktok also. The same is quickly happening on X with its monetization... and guess what :’)!!! Although original art is hard to monetize, Ai is completely approved.... 🤨🙄 But I won't bore you with all the specifics any longer.

Me not wanting my art on other platforms/accounts, has little to do with credit nor do I think in the very least that I have some sort of control over it by making that decision... but still. I refuse to willingly take part in anything that currently takes ‘art’ (any creative form) and makes a mockery of it, using it for mere "content" or treats it as this ‘thing�� that appeared out of nowhere to then just use any way people like and participate in the narrative that gives the impression that investing time in creating something isn't valuable or a cherished part of human expression that brings and promotes joy.

Because rarely do people take the damn time anymore.

I want all artists/writers/creators/etc- to be acknowledged for their work in general, or, even in the least, acknowledge the work that isn't seen that goes into the final result for others to enjoy. I don't want to continually see art stolen and exploited so rapidly. This phenomenon enables tech bros who don’t have a single ounce of argumentative skill or self-proclaimed "entrepreneurs" to generate their little stolen jpg’s for their absurd 3 a.m. morning-routine videos and use them as banners on their get-rich-quick schemes, scamming the unsuspecting and spamming the internet with this bs, largely thanks to AI making this partly possible... for example. There's not a single platform left that supports artists or helps them fight for security and protection for their work. I know and I'm aware. At the very least, we can say 'no' to reposting because giving up completely makes no room for possible solutions... and then we can work from where we are at all times to find ways to protect a right (because it is) that some might perceive as trivial.

Nevertheless, it is a right, and it definitely isn't an issue of arrogance or skill.

#asktamelee #art talk #anti ai #personal #art theft

48 notes · View notes

furbhii · 3 months ago

Text

hey, it's me, ali. i'm old and i've been drawing villainous since june of 2017. i love toxic relationships where transgender men kill each other.

I am an adult. My blog sometimes has adult content. I may create/engage with disturbing and violent content that people will find uncomfortable. Please use discretion when viewing my written works or when visiting my Twitter account.

I softblock minors that follow me. I don't mind if you reblog my art (I don't tend to post much NSFW these days), but I don't want to be followed. Try following the #Villainous tag, or people that reblog from me, if you'd like to see my art on your dash.

If I blocked you, it's because you were weird on my posts or were a minor that continued to follow me after being softblocked. It isn't personal. Unless it is.

Links:

My Frequently Used Tags

SFW (G-T Rated) Archive of Our Own

NSFW (M-E Rated) Archive of Our Own (18+)

SFW-ish/Shop Twitter

NSFW Twitter (18+)

My Etsy Store

My Ko-Fi (I may take commissions through here in the future)

SFW Bluesky

NSFW Bluesky (18+)

NSFW Aethy (Mastodon, 18+)

My blog runs on a queue. I will often like posts and then schedule them to be reblogged later; if you see me reblog something, that doesn't mean I'm online. This happens whenever I have the extra time to sit and catalogue stuff, which isn't often these days. I like posts and follow blogs from my main account.

I accept asks, and comment moderation is ON on my fics. I appreciate every kind comment I get, though I do not always have the energy to respond. Thank you to everyone who has left something nice in my inboxes.

Before you send an ask, check my FAQ:

Will you draw [x]?

Maybe! I do occasionally take commissions, if you want something specific/your oc/something I don't usually draw. You're welcome to leave Villainous requests in my inbox, but I can't guarantee I'll get to them or draw them exactly how you want. Inspiration is a fickle mistress.

What about [x] kink?

As long as it is legal to depict in artwork in my place of residence, I will probably draw it.

Wait... Even [x]???

Yeah. Sure. Whatever.

Will you write [x]?

This one is a bit tougher. I have about a dozen works in progress that I do really want to finish, but it often takes me a long time to get to them. One of my fics took me two years, and it was one chapter. So... It's the same answer as art. You can ask, but I can't promise anything.

Will you follow my blog/reblog my posts/promo me?

I don't know why people think I'm a Big Popular Blog, but I'm not. So... No. You probably won't get any additional reach from me. I keep my "following" list very small, on purpose, so if I really love what you're putting out there, I'll follow or reblog. Please don't ask me this if you're a minor.

Will you read my fanfic?

...Probably not. When I read fic I spend the entire time thinking about how I would rather be writing. However, if we are mutuals, feel free to ask me for proofreading/editing/beta-ing services.

Are you in my DNI?

Yes. For whatever the worst, most incriminating thing on there is.

Can I repost your art?

I don't know why you would want to. You can just reblog or retweet it.

Can I use your art as an icon?

Yes. I'd prefer if you credited me.

What's your deal?

Co-morbid, simultaneous terminal diagnoses of fujoshi brain and chaser disorder. I have 3 days left to live.

#pinned post

15 notes · View notes

riverjphoeniix · 3 months ago

Text

|| PARTNER SEARCH 9/19/24 ||

Intro ➯| Hi hello, if you’re looking to give the icon a name, I go by Jude. I am 28 years old and live in the Midwest (CST) I would say that I’m a fairly laid back writing partner with a wide arrange of interests. However, if you’re looking for someone to write slice of life, cheerleader and bad boy, fluff or purely smut I may not fall exactly into that category. However, I have been writing for well over 14 years (YIKES) and love diving into new and expansive stories!

Content I enjoy/prefer ➯ | I feel as though it is important to put the content I prefer above writing preferences just so it is clear, and I don't waste anyone's time ♡ I will always, always, always prefer writing dark content above anything else. This means mature themes such as addictions, crime, toxic relationships, gangs, apocalyptic, dystopian, angst and drama will always come first. HOWEVER, that doesn't mean I don't write anything other than that. I've written and enjoyed celebrity and small town plots before but preferred them if they involved some of the themes I have listed above (I almost never deny them! )

I have almost no major triggers but would prefer to discuss any you may have as to respect those boundaries ♡ As for smut, I would prefer it not to be the main focus of our stories. It can be involved, just not majorly. I do primarily f x m and f x f. Every day, I am gaining new inspiration for characters through various types of media. Click this link here to see my navigation that leads to all sorts of helpful information!

What I enjoy in a writing partner ➯ |

I would say that my writing style could be defined as strictly literate. Which means when I send a reply, it should be expected that I will send multiple paragraphs in response. This doesn't necessarily mean that I expect the same in return, either! I would much rather have quality over quantity as long as we are both having fun and enjoying ourselves ♡ Nothing makes me happier than world building as well!~ If world building is ever an option, I always much prefer it! I believe that the more characters are involved, the more chances there are for character development and various obstacles to create. Not only that, but I think always having extra characters to stir the pot makes things SO interesting. I also prefer not be the one to only write the male roles and prefer if you’re upfront and honest when it comes to playing male roles. Please do not be open to doubling if it's just a means to getting a ship that you’ve been wanting. I will more than likely notice. That means not favoring and only responding to roles where I play a male, and neglecting the roles where I play a female. Keep it fair. Partners also must be 21+ and understand that replies will not always be quick and fast. I often work, and I am working on my personal art business which means I may be online and responding when it comes to just having fun and chatting, plotting, head-canoning and sending ideas -- but I could be working on art on the side as well! Nothing makes me happier than having a partner where we both respect when each other is busy or when we are taking a moment for either personal reasons or mental health. I also prefer to use real face claims as opposed to drawings/anime/etc. Helpful info ➯ | If you have any triggers, anything that is off limits, anything that makes you uncomfortable, PLEASE do not feel shy to let me know ahead of time. Even during, before, or after a reply. DO NOT HESITATE. It does not matter at all the time, what matters to me is your comfort and your boundaries. I will not be upset, and I will completely understand. As for my triggers and my boundaries, I do not do any plots involving minors, massive age gaps, incest, bathroom kinks, or vore . If you are hoping for a major choice to be made, please feel free to do it if you feel this would add to the story – HOWEVER, if it involves something extreme being said or done to my character, I would prefer this to be discussed with me beforehand. Thank you! I look forward to writing and making some cool stuff with you <3

Feel free to like this post or DM me and I will get back to you! ♡

7 notes · View notes

ria-writes-stories · 1 year ago

Text

Description: what if Nori didn't die but Khan did, and raised Uzi all by herself instead of the other way around?

Genre: Action, character focus

Characters: Uzi and Nori

Inspired by @keeana 's art! Keena permitted me too write this fanfiction, her art is at the very bottom of this story. However, if you enjoyed this story make sure to go to her account and give that masterpiece the proper love it deserves because without it this story wouldn't have been made! Once again lots of thanks to keena! Without further a do, enjoy!

Side note: This is the official opening of my writing account!

------

(No one's pov)

The metal door closed as Nori held her baby close to her chest, looking struck with horror at the door.

'KHAN!' she screamed his name earlier, reaching a hand out while the other held her baby closely to herself as her husband looked at her with a defeated look. Oil was pouring in a small frail trial out of his mouth while the stab he had acquired within his chest, was being held down by the disassembly drone's claws the man clenched his fist tightly, and with a sheepish smile to his wife he punched the remote, closing the first door and breaking the remote as well making it impossible to be used again, so that the disassembly drones can not enter the colony.

Nori stayed there, locked in shock and horror at the thought that the better side of her was now gone forever as she was left with just the sweet little miracle that she had created with him.

Drones rushed to her to check up on her but Nori didn't even hear a mutter of their words as her gaze was locked on the door where her husband disappeared behind her.

"Forgive me Uzi. You won't get to see your father." Nori said with a numb face as a tear rolled down her cheeks as her eyes looked emptily at the ground.

Now...what about the fate of our beloved rebellious teenage girl? Well. Nori was a very loving mother, unlike her light-heartedly and dumb, when it came to social interactions, husband was much more convincing. She was already adored by over half the colony before the events of the attack, she was simply that easy popular person that people found enjoyable to hang around, and once Khan was out of the picture with his great sacrifice, it was Nori who took initiative to find people with the same passion and intelligence as Khan to built more doors. Of course, she didn't find anyone, no one could ever be like him, but, she did find enough drones each with a little knowledge of one of the engineering sides required to build the protective doors, and through the years door two and door three appeared.

What does anything have to do with Uzi? She showed remarkable intelligence and incline towards this methodical side that her father was so passionate about in his life. She assisted in the construction of door two by making the calculus and size measuring and then at the third door, she was the second in command in its building.

Uzi was heavily attracted to the more 'angsty' things and she was the black sheep of the herd because while her mother managed to convince her to help with the doors Uzi wanted to build weapons. And how did Nori respond with?

'Of course you can build weapons Uzi! You can do anything you put your mind to! Plus, why stop with just weapons? Why not become a jackal of all? Traps, weapons, attacks, defenses! That and so many more things you will achieve because you are a talented and wonderful young girl who has inherited the intelligence of her father. Oh if only Khan could see you right now, I am sure he would be so proud of your engineering skills!' it's safe to say that Uzi had a very loving mother who encouraged her each step of the way. Did that mean Uzi was popular?

Uzi was the 'miracle' kid due to her contribution to the colony from a young age, despite having an already assured spot for the future Uzi wasn't interested in any of that. She always wanted to do something...bizarre in the eyes of all the other drones except for her mother. Killing the disassembly drones.

This made her weird and strange for everyone else but this time around Uzi knew how to snap back, better than just saying 'Bite me' she would effortlessly put the drones that challenged her in their place via words. As I said, Nori was the one to raise her after all, and she made sure her daughter knew not to allow anyone to walk all over her.

Uzi was still the rebellious angsty teen, the only difference is that she was afraid of the masses because they treated her like a freak and an outcast. She didn't feel the need to hide, instead, she walked confidently each step of the way.

Uzi didn't care what other drones thought about her, she still did what she wanted to do even if it 'broke the rules' of the colony. She was a truly rebellious person, but what made Uzi so different was the wits thought by her mother. The tricks, the strategies, the manipulation. Everything came naturally to Uzi, after all, she was Nori's daughter, and with the intelligence she inherited from Khan followed by her mother's guidance she was far more than what anyone from the colony acknowledged her for. She was feared because everyone knew that not only weren't they a match for her but also because they knew that if they stepped out of the line that she had allowed them to ridicule her in, she would make their life a nightmare without lifting a finger. It was simple really. Some drones may not be as emotionally developed as humans, but that primal fear of survival is still deep in their core and Uzi knew just how to push the buttons to cause them to be on the edge of their tippy toes and out of her face.

A school project about watermelons started it all you could say. How boring was that? Under stimulating and ridiculous, far too behind Uzi's level of capacity, so she decided that if she was going to kill some time she might as well kill it on something she enjoys.

However one tiny miscalculation and Uzi's magnetically calibrated rail gun blew up in her face, sending her to the infirmary. It wasn't the first time Uzi's experiments ended up wrong; she would do them under her other and always made sure to duck and hide her daughter when the project showed to be unstable and close to bursting into chaos.

Nothing from the colony could give Uzi what she needed to complete her masterpiece, so she did the most sane thing possible.

"You want to go where?!?" Nori asked caught a little off guard. "Just outside of door one-" "No! No, no, no, absolutely not, that is where your father passed! What if the disassembly drones are right outside the door?" "Then I'll blast them with my sick-as-hell rail gun!" Uzi said confidently as she clenched her fist, with a wide smirk.

Nori sighed softly and shook her head with a sheepish smile on her face as she went to Uzi, cupping her cheeks and kissing her forehead affectionately. "Alright my precious little devil. Just make sure to not have any of your limbs missing when you come back." "Mooom! I'm not four anymore!" Uzi protested her mother's behavior, but it was exactly this love and care that had made Uzi into the young woman she is today.

Nori simply laughed softly. "I know that dear. Make sure those disassembly drones will go scavenging for scraps far away from our colony." Nori said letting go of Uzi who simply nodded and rushed out the door, only to stop her in her tracks and run back to her mother for a quick hug.

"Thanks, Mom." "Anytime my sweet angel." Nori said with a content smile as she rested one hand on Uzi's back and the other on her head, before letting her go so she could go chase her dreams.

"They grow up so fast... If only you could see how much she took after you Khan." Nori said with a soft sigh before going back to her daily duties.

So far not much has changed did it? Uzi is still considered a freak. She still has an angsty rebellious teen reputation. She is still confident and does not bend to society's norms, and she is still extremely intelligent, being able to build an incredibly dangerous weapon.

Sure there is the part where she has become as sly as her mother when it calls for it, but other than that not much has changed...right?

Nori would tell Uzi bedtime stories, implementing the history of their world in her daughter's mind from a young fragile age without her knowing. The history and knowledge of what there is to come. Nori had no doubt that her daughter would master the curse transmitted through her coding better than she did.

The events are pretty much as we know them. A disassembly drone challenges the wrong drone to a fight.

She wins. He loses. They get to know each other, the other two come into view, and she runs away. He realizes his mistake and tries to fix it.

"Mom! Aim and shoot!" "What if it gets you as well?!" Nori said holding the weapon in horror. "That's not important right now! Aim and shoot!!!" Uzi repeated as the disassembly drone looked at Nori with the 'X' on his face and a wide murderous smile.

Nori lost someone she loved once at her own hands. She wasn't going to let it happen again. "You know I'm an old-fashioned baby..." Nori said sheepishly as she was ready to use something she hadn't used in so long. She was wondering if she even had it. It's been so long... She blocked the signal, long ago, for Uzi's safety and sake, all the way when she was just a baby. The one to help her achieve that was Yeva, and they never again spoke of it, but the thing is that they never looked for a way to unlock it, cuz why would they?

The moment was cut short as another drone grabbed Nori and pulled her backward as they closed the door. A WDF worked. Mother and daughter locked eyes in horror and terror as Nori threw the rail gun forward fast enough to move before the door closed.

"OPEN THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT!!!" Nori lashed out in anger and hatred as panic flew through her system. "M-ma'am please-" The subordinate begged as Nori suddenly became calm. What is she thinking? It's her daughter that she is talking about. She got this handled. She was better than her, better than Khan. Uzi will get to live another day, for now, Nori had to worry about those who weren't as fortunate and as blessed.

"Ma'am?" "Take everyone to the safety room." Nori ordered seriously as the WDF member nodded and opened a walkie-talkie as he began to move alerting all units of the colony. Nori did her homework, and she was prepared for a possible disassembly drone breach.

Everything that we know of unfolded as it was meant to be, the only difference was that when Uzi left, she did so to fight the bigger fish and not by banishing herself. And what did Nori do? She allowed it. Given Doll's behavior it wasn't hard for Nori to figure out that Yeva was gone. Doll's and Uzi's clocks were ticking and the sooner they took on this world the better for their long-term survival.

The 'program' wasn't happy. It knew Nori wasn't dead, even though it was unable to reach her, so when it was met with a glimpse of her predecessor it struck much to its demise.

All of a sudden the two disassembly drones attacked Uzi, but the fight didn't last long... A bright flash of purple and a strange symbol and the two disassembly drones were stuck in the air squirming and shrieking in terror as their system got a short circuit and what was once yellow turned purple.

"Come here." Uzi called the two drones over calmly.

Still lost in a state of subconciousness and wounded from the fight they obeyed like puppets and got closer to her without a moment of hesitation.

The male knelt on the ground as the female slightly lowered herself to be at the same level as Uzi.

Once they were close enough the symbol appeared again forcing their heads closer to the girl's touch, as one of her eyes turned into said symbol. "I think I like you like this more." Uzi said with a sly smile as she looked at V, cupping her cheek while her other hand rested on N's head softly caressing it.

Uzi was the same as we know her... But she took after her mother even more so.

New admin: darkxwolf17

The end

#murder drones uzi #murder drones nori #nori murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones v

34 notes · View notes

bookshelf-in-progress · 5 months ago

Note

Bugging you to write... Anything Arateph. Even if it's not right now, I'm holding out for someday.

Per usual, just as some ideas for this universe started to take writeable form, I lost all motivation and inspiration. To try to make up for this, I'll share a little bit of Arateph lore. I was going to write this as a sort-of short story, in the form of a letter from Queen Marastel to the infant Auren, recounting the day she chose his name (before the naming-day ceremony), but I couldn't get the voice down, so instead I'll just summarize.

By the time Marastel became pregnant with Auren, she had developed a lot of skill with the naming tongue. However, since she'd never been able to use any of the names she developed for her nine stillborn children, she and Jemrauth barely dared to discuss names for this tenth child, beyond some basic ideas.

When this tenth child miraculously was born healthy, Jemrauth finally asked Marastel if she had any ideas for names.

Marastel did. She had been crafting names with intricate layers of meaning for years, and when this child was born, all her experience allowed her to craft the perfect name almost instantly.

"His name is Auren," she told her husband.

The beauty of that name can't be captured in English orthography. Words in the tephan naming tongue have three to four layers of sound that can be spoken simultaneously thanks to the more complicated tephan vocal cords, and they can blend and interact with each other so that the different layers of meaning comment upon and deepen each other.

(Most names don't do that. A lot of mothers just choose from a large collection of pre-crafted traditional names with the layers of meaning already firmly in place. It takes a lot of time and talent to learn the naming tongue well enough to craft a complete, unique name).

King Jemrauth responded with awe, "That's not a name. That's a poem."

It was. There are few tephan names that reach the level of high art. This, most scholars agree, was the pinnacle of the artform, a perfect blend of sound to create worlds of meaning out of a single word.

The name's top layer of sound, and most basic meaning, was "first star." The underlayers brought in worlds of meaning expressing that this child was a gift of bright hope in the midst of despair, for both the king and queen and for the entire world.

But it also had a more personal meaning, which the king instantly recognized, and the queen quickly pointed out: "The light doesn't end when the sun sets."

Jemrauth's name, thanks to his mother's slip of the tongue during his naming ceremony, meant "sunset." No one thought anything of it at the time, but after his elder brother and sister both died, leaving an inexperienced third prince on the throne, and his father died unexpectedly young, and he and his wife struggled for decades to have an heir, the name came to be viewed as a curse, a prophecy that the line of kings would end with Jemrauth. This child's birth is proof that it will not, that Jemrauth has not doomed the world, and the light will go on after Jemrauth is gone and hope still exists in the world.

The question then turns to virtue names. According to tradition, they have to pick two or three of the Great Houses to give the prince virtue names on his naming day.

Marastel, naturally, wants her family, House Kepha, to bestow one of the names. Unfortunately, Kepha is considered the lowest house, and even decades after her marriage, the other Houses still resent that House Kepha got a queen on the throne. If she chooses House Kepha before other, higher Houses, there will be outrage and political turmoil. But at their age, they can't count on having other children that House Kepha can name.

So Marastel has the idea to invite all twelve Houses to give virtue names. It will make the birth of this long-awaited child into a grand celebration, and twelve virtue names will show that he's expected to be something magnificent and worth the wait. (Marastel figures she can help the child bear the weight of all those names.)

It sounds like a fantastic plan, a perfect opportunity to show the glory of the crown and celebrate this triumph that has finally come after so much suffering.

Of course it goes wrong, but Marastel didn't know that at the time, so for at least a few days, her child's name was nothing but a joy to her.

#answered asks #arateph #more lore that probably only sounds cool to me #but i hope it eases the wait at least a tiny bit

7 notes · View notes

iohourtime · 2 years ago

Text

Yamada Ryosuke: Side A - Expression

anan 2347

(Please let me know if there are any errors. Probably not my best work but I can't write properly lately.)

You can read the second part of the interview, "Side B - Change" here.

On May 9th, Yamada Ryosuke-san would celebrate his 30th birthday. To [make sure] the timing worked, the editorial department proposed to him: “Do you want to do a self-produced gravure [for us]?” while it was still [winter]. He replied with his acceptance really quickly and he first mentioned the phrases “expression” and “change” and some loose ideas of what he would like to do. We came up with the plan we have now starting with that conversation.

“I was fortunate to receive such a proposal for my 30th milestone birthday and I am very thankful for this. When I am thinking about what I want to show others about myself, “the form of an expressionist” comes to mind. In these times, only responding to what is demanded of us is no longer the correct attitude. Or should I say, aren’t we more free [to choose what we want to do]? When it is time to think about how to maximize [the expression] of “myself at this moment”, if I can work with a trusted team to do what I hoped to do, then I can become who I wanted to be.”

For the next part, the proposal for “Change” is to show the switch from “off” to “on”. Yamada-san is earnest towards work and is someone who is known for being professional. Therefore, we wanted to show him before he puts on his “work armour” and asked to shoot his bare face before applying makeup and costume.

“From my perspective, I’m wondering if people really want to see that? (laughs) Although it’s not unusual for people to see the natural [unprocessed] Yamada Ryosuke during the [process of] change, or rather, that is probably closer to who I am now.”

Singing, dancing , acting… of all the methods of expression, but a photoshoot is “what can express my current state.”

“Although I approach my work in the same way, whether it is video or print, I feel that my condition and state of mind on that day or time, whether good or bad, gets reflected in the work. Especially with photos, it is a snapshot of everything, right? It’s not enough to just have a great photographer, or just great outfits, or great make up, if these components do not work together, it is impossible to form a cohesive artwork. When all these components work, it feels good to participate in the shoot, yet more often than not, the components do not all come together. Sometimes it’s due to my or the staff’s mental or physical condition [on the day], and I am rather sensitive to such things. If it’s staff I’m familiar with, we can figure it out together, but it’s not a one-sided issue. However, with today’s photoshoot, everything fits very well, so it feels like no matter who and whatever we do, it’ll go well.”

For this part, Yamada-san suggested one keyword, “Pierrot”. [TN: It’s basically the clown archetype in pantomime.] The cover art expands on this image. Although he had worn pop-coloured outfits before, the style [this time], including the hair and makeup, was quite aggressive. It seemed like Yamada-san himself was also inspired by this and showed a lot of naughty expressions he rarely showed.

“Since I am going to do this anyway, isn’t it more fun to show [a side of me] that hasn't been shown before? As for the word “Pierrot”, I simply thought it’s an easy way to explain [the theme of expression], but… clowns can be laughed at, they can be cute at amusement parks, and if they are in a horror movie, they can be scary; there is a wide berth in [how they can appear], and I always find them as beings that are hard to understand. I also want to become a person who gives people different impressions depending on who sees me, as someone who can show a different face depending on where I am. That is my ideal. It would be nice if there were people who read the magazine and saw new possibilities in me, and I would also be happy if they simply thought I was cool. As an expressionist, it is necessary to continually show new faces. I want to keep exploring that.”

He is currently appearing as Nitta Togo in the drama, “Ousama ni Sasagu Kusuriyubi”. [Togo] is a scion who married a woman he doesn’t love in order to rebuild his struggling wedding hall business. This is his first shoujo manga adaptation.

“Hashimoto Kanna, who plays the lead role, and I can go back and forth at different tempos and it’s great working with her. I want you to see Kanna-chan’s brave visage properly. I thought I was past the age to appear in this type of romance drama, so please enjoy it. (Laughs)”

[To be continued in Side B: Change, which is probably the meat of the interview.]

#yamada ryosuke #translations #anan 2347 #Side A #Expression

36 notes · View notes

sentientsoil · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii can I request C, I, S, Z with ena shinonome?

Ena Shinonome fluff alphabet - C, I, S, Z

A/n: I did have more ideas for the second one but I fell asleep before I could write them down

Tw: kiss, mentions of arguments

Tagging: @orange-mushrooms

Cuddles - what’s their favourite cuddle position?

Ena likes to be the little spoon, but she never outright admits it. She absolutely melts whenever you cuddle her and give her kisses (especially on her nose). However, when she’s in a particularly good mood and especially if you get flustered easily, she can be the big spoon. She loves to play with your hair while cuddling and most of the time after you both finish, you’re all tangled up in each other.

I love you - who says I love you first?

You say I love you first, but that’s because she’s embarrassed. She tells you in every other way except words - even writing it on her social media and bbb. After that though, she often says it in a teasing way. But she’s a little embarrassed to admit to you that she truly means every word.

Stress - how do you help each other handle stress?

For Ena, the thing that helps her with stress is taking a break and relaxing for a while, so you definitely help her do that. She may lash out at you and you could have an argument, but not long after she’ll feel so bad that somehow you both end up venting to each other in bed. She enjoys relaxing with you on the couch with a tub of ice cream and a film, but the best thing to do before then is to get her to come away from her art.

Zzz - how do they respond when they fall asleep in their presence?

She’ll be soooo flustered at first but once she gets used to it, she’ll be fangirling like no one’s ever seen before. She gushes about you on social media afterwards and she just wants to hug you. When you wake up and see her looking at you and smiling like an idiot, she’ll instantly stop and pretend it never happened, but we all can see it in the way that you catch her staring a little more often than usual and the not so subtle inspiration behind her recent paintings.

#project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #prsk x reader #colorful stage x reader #prosekai x reader #soil’s writing #ena shinonome x reader #shinonome ena x reader

27 notes · View notes

constantcrisis19 · 1 year ago

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers (& Artists)

AN: I wasn't tagged, but I saw this and just had to do it!

1. How many works do you have on ao3(Tumblr)?

34 works on ao3

51 works on Tumblr

2. What's your total ao3 (Tumblr) word count?

559,311 words on ao3

84,623 words on Tumblr

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Honestly, whatever I'm into at the time (but I have a tendency to bounce around a lot) so I'll just list off a few of my favs to write for:

Call of Duty: MW2

Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse

Rick and Morty

Teen Wolf

Stranger Things

Supernatural

The Walking Dead

4.What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

What Is Meant To Be (Always Finds A Way) | Geraskier | 2,841 kudos

Tell Me Every Terrible Thing You've Done (And Let Me Love You Anyways) | Montgomery Gator & Gregory [Gen] | 2,425 kudos

The Goal Isn't To Live Forever (It's To Create Something That Will) | Winterberg | 2,035 kudos

Sometimes Peace Come From Painful Things | Winterberg | 1,252 kudos

It’s Funny Only Just A Moment (Can Reveal The Universe Intent) | Winterberg | 836 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't always respond to comments, since I usually leave that task to my co-writer (and partner in crime) Tibby. It's the most convenient way to do it because we both collaborate on most of the fics I post and they're much more comfortable with responding to comments.

But if it's a solo fic, then I can usually manage to work through my anxiety and respond to anyone who's kind enough to leave a comment because I genuinely love getting feedback, and seeing people enjoy my work really inspires me to keep writing!

Uhhh... That's gotta be my newer oneshot, Free Fall. It's a SoapGhost fic and a rewrite of the ending of MW3 (Yeah, you know the scene).

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I've got a few (cause I'm a sucker for a happy ending) but the one I'm gonna go with has to be The Goal Isn't To Live Forever (It's To Create Something That Will). It's a part of the list above and it's currently one of my only completed, multi-chaptered fics.

8. Do you get hate on any fics (Art)?

Unfortunately, yeah. I recently got a particularly rude comment accusing me of using chat ai to write my Geraskier fic, even though it was first published way back in 2020, before chat ai was even a thing that people used regularly.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup. I usually stick to my comfort zone and write M/M stuff.

Though, in my longer fics, the smut isn't really the main focal point so I tend to keep it pretty tame.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Oh boy. My co-author has actually got me hooked on a crazy rare pair to the point where we wrote a whole fic for it (and are working on the second in the series). It's a Daryl Dixon/Dean Winchester pairing set in the TWD universe.

Nope, thank god.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup! Someone reached out to me and asked to translate my FNaF: SB fic into Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sure have, but only with one other person.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Omg, no! I have to pick!?

Well, if forced with a gun to my head, I supposed I'd have to say Rinch (John Reese x Harold Finch from the TV series Person of Interest). I love the show and the characters and the story and the world building. It's just a pairing that I will always keep coming back to no matter how many other ships/fandoms I fall into.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My KiriBaku x Among Us crossover fic. The main page, where I had planned out the entire fic, was accidentally deleted and I don't know if I'll ever recover from that since I'd have to rehash the entire rest of the story from scratch if I decided to one day come back to it.

However, that being said, I'm still holding out hope that I'll randomly get a burst of motivation for the story. Who knows.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'd say my strengths are writing angst, witty banter, and transition paragraphs (since my co-author often gets stuck going on tangents and writing really detailed scenes so they often ask for me to make a segue in order to get us to the next plot point, which works out for everyone).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My weakness is definitely in-depth, detailed scenes, hands down. It's kinda embarrassing, but my writing can sometimes lack the descriptive, engaging language necessary to make the story/situation/characters interesting (especially when it's decidedly not a writing day) and it often reads like boring exposition.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am not fluent in anything other than English, but that doesn't exactly stop me from relying heavily on google translate in order to use other languages in my fics, especially if the character that I'm writing for prefers another language. Take Miguel O'Hara for example, who is canonically bilingual.

The same kind of goes for accents too. I try my best to emulate how the words would sound if the character was actually speaking while writing dialogue. Take for example my SoapGhost fics, where both characters have a thick, distinct accent.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Unofficially (as in never posted): Vampire Diaries.

First fandom I posted to Wattpad (yikes) when I was like twelve: BBC Sherlock

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Jeez, another difficult question. Um... I'm gonna go with What Is Meant To Be (Always Finds A Way), for several reasons.

It was the very first fic that I posted to my ao3 account.

It was the first multi-chaptered fic that I'd ever completed.

I managed to finish and post the final chapter on my birthday (which was a pleasant surprise).

I love it so much that my co-writer and I are actually currently in the midst of lovingly revisiting/revising the entire fic to make it even better!

_____

That was fun! Now for the tagging!

@mistertiberius, @ghostao3, @captain-mj, @fogsrollingin

#tagging game #tag game #tag chain #fanfiction #writing #ao3 writer #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 author #writers on tumblr #tumblr writing society #tumblr writing community #join us

10 notes · View notes