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yandere-sins · 2 years ago

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Creature

This is, of course, for this one special anon ♥ Jokes aside, always remember guys to not read stuff that isn’t appealing to you instead of regretting it later (;

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Hephaestus x GN!Darling!Reader (However, I did decide on calling them Priestess in this work, though nothing else as indication) Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Planning to set the reader up for sex, Dub-Con, Monster Fucking, Implied Cuckolding, various innuendos, Getting flashed), Forced Relationship, Power Imbalance, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mention of insecurities and anger issues

Prompt: @sintember Free Day Friday: Creature - Monsters, beasts, cryptids galore. We can’t let those humans think they run the show.

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"So… how do you like him?"

Hephaestus's hands fell to your shoulders. Large thumbs resting against the back of your neck while his fingers wrapped around your throat, sliding under the golden necklaces he crafted for you. Once again, he let you feel his subtle superiority over you as he leaned against you ever so slightly, pushing you down. Putting you into your lowly, human place by his side. It was just his illusive way of exerting his power over you, but you were so used to it that you didn't try to stand up straight and push back against him. To stay in favor was the goal when it came to the gods, even with someone as kind and forgiving as Hephaestus was. Being defiant towards him would result in him pinning you down on the ashen floor of his forge until you swore your devotion to him, and later remark how dirty you looked and how it was unfitting of your position.

So, instead, you kept your eyes pinned on the monstrosity before you. You wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, that looks were deceiving, and you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but you had no other words to describe it. It was a creature formed after a man but clearly nowhere near human. And after being with Hephaestus for what must be years on earth now, you knew this was a golem rather than a living, breathing being. It was also, very clearly, not his first try, which unnerved you more. This had been a planned and practiced endeavor, and you weren't sure how to properly accept such a gift from your benefactor.

You could have had it worse with the god whose eyes you caught. Had it been anyone else but Hephaestus, well… You saw what they did to the other humans; the shameful displays and broken minds. Being a priestess to the god of blacksmiths and various other crafty skills, your worst experience was the nude modeling for his creations in front of other beings interested in his doings. Otherwise, you were a glorified house warmer, just making sure to wipe the floor after Hephaestus came home, dragging ashes after him, and helping him wash and relax after another day of working. You'd also serve him as his personal outlet for various rants and reassure the big, mighty smith when his thoughts turned angry and insecure. In return, you were spared the same awful life that your fellow humans on Olympus had, which you were endlessly grateful for. You could spend your days resting and honing your own skills when he wasn't at home, Hephaestus never telling you what to do or constantly attend him. The only times you really left his lofty home were the occasional times you two had to go to an outing of the gods or when he asked you to come and fetch a new gift he had made for you from his forge yourself.

But you weren't sure you wanted that.

"He'll help you at home," Hephaestus explained proudly, moving around you and patting the back of the golem who stood closer to the god's height than yours. He was shimmering, silver iron, a piece of art so delicately crafted that he moved soundlessly despite his massiveness. With toned muscles chiseled into his body, he almost looked as handsome as Apollo. However, when Hephaestus beckoned you closer, the golem holding his hand out to you, you felt the freezing cold of metal against your fingertips, smooth like stone in the ocean.

The hairs carved onto his head didn't move as he cocked his head at you, probably wondering why you were so warm in comparison. It just was unnatural not seeing the strands move. But his eyes were no better, soulless gems hammered into his head, lips carved into an eternal, gentle smile. He was unnerving, but how could you possibly deny such kindness from your god? Even if it wasn't the blessing of being allowed to return to the human realm, refusing the golem he had crafted to assist you for the small chores you had to do every day, might shatter what little respect Hephaestus had for his human. You didn't want to think about the things he would be capable of doing once you lost his favor.

Hephaestus might have been nicer than other gods, but you weren't an idiot trusting in just the gentle attitude he showed towards you until now. He, too, had his fair share of misdeeds and anger issues, and you knew the crooked ways he looked at you when he thought you didn't notice, his gaze burning on your skin. You weren't the only one to notice, either. Whenever you two met Aphrodite (much to the chagrin of both gods), she'd give you one of these burning looks as well. Hephaestus at least looked at you with something akin to serenity and delight, but hers was a look so full of pity it was barely endurable. And that while she had countless of mindless humans flocking around her that you felt were much more to be pitied than you.

But who were you to judge immortals and their ways? A lot of what you learned about them in the mortal realm hadn't exactly turned out to be wrong, but they were definitely different from how you expected them to be. All you could do was hold out your hand as politely as possible, watching in a mix of fear and surprise as the golem bent to kiss the back of it, cold lips lingering reverently against your skin. Your face snapped to Hephaestus as you wanted to make sure it would not upset him, but he looked at his creation in a mix of pride and adoration. As if it was his child.

"T-Thank you…" you stuttered, getting very mixed signals here.

Hephaestus didn't like you around the other humans or gods. He didn't want you to participate in games or even to wait on him, hand and foot. He mostly kept you by his side when he could, not allowing anyone closer to you than he was. Even if this was just a golem, you thought he'd hate seeing any kind of contact between you two aside from a quick handshake as you tried to offer.

"You like him then?" Hephaestus asked, finally looking back at your flustered, anxious form, and you nicked, again polite rather than genuine.

"That's good," he sighed, and you almost felt like he was deeply relieved, though you didn't know what was bothering him so, despite you being closer to him than even his family. "You tend to be alone while I work here, so he's in charge of keeping you company and protecting you."

Feeling like this was genuinely meant as just another kind gesture from him, you smiled for the first time, slowly nodding in understanding. "Thank you for considering me," you told Hephaestus, and he smiled back. He looked almost boyish in the way his eyes sparkled and the happiness of his achievement spread over his face. He seemed very pleased with his creation and bringing you joy through it. You usually weren't as happy about his other gifts, too many necklaces and rings stored away in your closet already. It had become increasingly hard to feign surprise and adoration for every piece of jewelry he made for you. So even though it still felt weird to lay your eyes on the creature, you actually felt Hephaestus's concern for you as you looked at it, albeit unnecessary since you rarely left his house without him and could maintain it just fine.

"I'm very relieved," he confirmed your suspicion, dragging a large hand over the golem's head in a bizarre form of a pet. "There've been things I couldn't do for you yet, so I wanted you to have a companion who'd be able to satisfy your every need."

Taken aback by the statement, you looked up at Hephaestus, furrowing your brows as you tried to think of what he could mean. Unable to figure it out on your own, you looked back at the golem who, despite his expression being chiseled into his face, seemed a bit mischievous now. Even Hephaestus let out a small chuckle, seeing your surprised confusion, before gesturing at his creation, the golem reaching for the knot holding the expensive-looking fabric he wore in place.

In a swift movement, the garment fell to the floor, and you released a startled gasp, shielding your eyes with your hands and turning around. "What do you think?" Hephaestus asked, pride vibrating in his laugh. "A perfect replica of mine, wouldn't you say?"

Embarrassed and having not expected this surprise, you just nodded to keep the peace and not unnecessarily hurt his pride, your gaze having not lingered on the erect cock and full balls the golem was gifted with, unable to compare them to what Hephaestus looked like naked. Nudity wasn't that big of a deal for you anymore after living in a society that didn't care so much about modesty. Still, perhaps it was the surprise that a mere golem could have something lingering there. Why would Hephaestus even give you something like this? It had been unthinkable, considering how possessive he usually was. You had done nothing to warrant his suspicion about your needs needing to be met, and this was also not very appropriate for a priestess sworn to Hephaestus. Or maybe it was? Since it was his creation?

Gently gripping your chin between two fingers, he turned you around again, forcing you to gaze at the golem despite averting your gaze out of respect. "It's fine to look," Hephaestus absolved you. You hesitantly opened your eyes and bit your lip while meeting his gaze coyly.

"I know how you humans are. Always needy, always greedy. That's why I decided to take matters into my own hands. Like the others, I know you will betray me one day. "

The last statement made your expression harden, your hands snapping to wrap around his fingers. "I would never–" you tried, but he hushed you, unnervingly composed, gently applying more pressure on his grip to shut you up.

"Everyone does," he sighed, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose to hold back the feelings boiling up inside him. For a moment, you felt genuinely bad, knowing how much he had been betrayed by those closest to him from the tales around Hephaestus. His expression turned sourly before he took a deep breath, opening his eyes again to look at you. "So I am giving you this present, and tonight, you will take him to bed in front of me."

Appalled, you stared at Hephaestus, your mouth opening ever so slightly as the thought of allowing this golem to do what neither a spouse nor your god had, settled into your mind. Hephaestus had never pushed you into a sexual relationship—though the other humans certainly had that kind of involvement with their gods—even when touched and demanded your nearness. You had always been grateful for that as well. But as beautiful as he was—and you were sure Hephaestus created the golem with your satisfaction in mind and to suit your taste—he wasn't real and couldn't even speak. Wouldn't it hurt if he embraced you? Would the kiss not be terribly dull? There would be no feeling behind it, and to do it all before your god's eyes felt even worse.

"But, I--" you wanted to argue, but Hephaestus's features hardened, and he shut you up with a sharp glare alone. "You will. It doesn't matter if you think you'd never go behind my back. One day, one of those damned bastards will send someone to lure you away from me. They'll take you from me for their own amusement, and I refuse to give you to them. But with this, I will control these urges of yours. Either his-" he pointed at the golem, "-will be the one to satisfy you or mine. No one else deserves you!"

The crushing force of his fingers keeping you in place made you wince as his anger grew with every sentence. It was understandable, to a degree, but for the first time, you were terrified. Not out of reverence, but because he was hurting you with his touch and the barely-existing pride you still had with his thoughts. You wanted to think of yourself as loyal and devoted, and you also didn't want to think about riding some iron-cold dick before the eyes of your god.

"I will enjoy it too," Hephaestus finally added, softening his grip and releasing you with a now calm rub of his fingertip against your cheek. "I have connected my feelings with the golem's, and he will treat you just like I would."

Rubbing the pain away where Hephaestus touched you, you glanced at the golem suspiciously. Suddenly, his arms sprang forward as he stepped up to you, wrapping you in his firm, cold embrace. You were squeezed in the worst way possible, making you fear for your life as the golem's body just seemed to envelop you wholly. As if strong, silver walls were threatening to destroy your bones and press the life out of you. You had suspicions, but you never had pried into Hephaestus's feelings for you. But if he shared them with the golem, they must have been much stronger than you anticipated.

Hephaestus's voice rang out from outside the iron prison you were kept in, chuckling with joy, "He will love you just like I do. And once you had him between your thighs, you'll never want to leave me again. I'll make sure that you will never want any other man or god to touch you, and I will prove just how good I am to you over and over until you crave me instead of your new friend."

You never intended to leave Hephaestus after accepting this position, even though you longed for your real home away from Olympus more every day.

But now you wanted to run straight into the dark embrace of Tartarus.

Far far away from Hephaestus's reach and the golem's iron grip, his cock twitching against your stomach in anticipation.

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stopeatingwhales · 4 years ago

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vinyl searching (pt. 1) x graham coxon

okok i'm so sorry i haven't posted in such a long amount of time, but i'm back! (and hopefully for much longer this time haha). this was requested to me a very long time ago and i fell in love with the entire concept immediately - i'm sorry it took so unbelievably long to post it!! i might make a second part to this as i felt like i haven’t properly put the story to an end so look out for that!

Pairing: 1999 graham coxon x reader

Warnings: nothing!

Word count: 3.421

part two

Requested by anon (I’m so sorry this is so late) x

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Cutting open my last box of new vinyl, I quickly scanned through the contents, figuring out what genres it had consisted of. I discovered a brimmed box of popular 80s vinyls ready to be organised as I allowed my nimble finger to slowly caress every bump that was conveyed whilst it went through every single record. Working in a record shop was often tiring due to the amount of physical labour you have to commit to doing (it really takes a toll on your back sometimes), but it overall was a magical experience, with a lot of perks: free vinyls every once in a while, the ability to snatch a first copy of a highly anticipated album before it got sold out, and ultimately being able to be surrounded by art constantly. It was a genuine blessing to be able to work in a shop that abides and requires your whole passion, because it can never go to waste. What was beautiful about music was that, regardless of personality, fashion or who you genuinely were, everyone can connect to some form of it, whether it be rock, pop, hip/hop, rap, anything. A simple strum of a guitar or mumble of a lyric can manipulate one’s mind so diligently that you become so enthralled by that rhythm to the point it consumes and dictates your entire outlook on existentialism and surroundings of life. You are free to interpret what you like from either lyrics, melodies or even music videos; music is there for one form a bonding with it, not to be told specifically what this or that means, otherwise it loses its enchanting wizardry. Unsurprisingly, you are never able to free yourself from the affiliation that you receive from music, as it is infinite, absolute, limitless without end. Every day, every hour, every minute, there is either a small group, or just one person, attempting to create melodies and cadences that can resonate with people for the rest of their lives - and once they’ve cracked that specific coding, that in which takes overwhelming amounts of dedication, you have created something that is unforgettable to maybe a nation, or a couple, or just one single person. Regardless of the amount, with such ability, you carry the ultimate power that no grade, mark or report card, can ever prove to show.

Exhaling, I began to stock up the few crates that were beginning to gain empty space in between the few vinyls that embraced them. Attempting to organise them as quickly as I could, I hummed along to the soft music that was escaping out of the radio. Usually, during the day, there wouldn’t be much activity in the store, so having to care for the place by myself wasn’t something out of the ordinary. The shop tended to be more of a second home to me; it never became excessively stressful, and being able to conversate with customers about opinions on specific albums or ‘which album by this or that artist is their best?’ was always an enjoyable part of the day as it simply felt as if it was a random conversation instigated in a bar. Almost as if you’re discoursing with a long lost friend; you gain this sort of connection between specific albums that both mean something to you, and despite the fact that it could mean completely opposing ideas, you were both able to share that connection the music was able to provoke. The shop was moderately small, with 6 rows of 5 crates (two on either side of the wall) aligned neatly, three quarters of a metre separating each in order to allow those to walk around. Having the space quite compact yet overflowing with all sorts of music was what made the space so enthralling. You could have your favourite album of all time sitting there, patiently lingering for your grasp and attraction to seep in, and eventually your purchase - all you seemingly had to do was rummage for it. That in specific is what makes record searching so entertaining, simply scanning through crates of records until you find something that appeals to you. And although you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, if a band has put enough effort in their covers, it would appeal to people more, and therefore allow more sales to seep through. Situated on the end of a high street which had countless amounts of civilians walking into multiple stores each day, only a few customers had come in every so often as it only sold vinyls, and CDs were becoming more of an attraction these days. It didn’t bother me all that much - I definitely preferred having only a few customers in and out every couple of hours in comparison to groups of screaming teenagers begging for the chance that I might have the Californication vinyl by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

Once I had completed distributing the vinyls to their designated boxes, I put the large - now empty - cardboard box behind the counter to place in the rubbish after my shift was over. As if on cue, I was met with the light ringing sounds that escaped from the bell at the top of the clear glass door, indicating that someone had arrived in the shop. Swiftly turning my head to figure out who it was, I was met with the sight of Graham Coxon, a usual customer, and an amazing lead guitarist in one of the most known bands in Britain as of this moment due to their latest album titled 13, Blur. News had surfaced that the band were having troubles between each other, and it became apparent that Graham hadn’t played on the album that much. He looked a little scruffy, his short hair untidy but that didn’t make him look horrible, it suited him very much. There were small dark circles forming on his eyes, exposing ideations that he may not have slept, or been able to sleep, which played on my heart strings a little. Although he was a heart-throb of many young girls over the coming years, especially during the height of the Britpop era, he had the demeanor completely contrasting against those projected to the nation by his other bandmates. Graham was quiet, reticent, composed, and it was obvious that the entire Britpop era didn’t work to well for him - being put up against Oasis to fight for the supposed ‘king’ of a genre proved its mental strains on him, to the point he had began drinking to escape his struggles. Me and Graham had become quite good friends over the months that he had been visiting the store, so a shocked face and beg for an autograph was something that by no means would be happening in this given moment. I always felt that because of Graham’s restrictive attitude, it caused him to be quite secluded from maintaining a lot of friendships - although that may just be an assumption. “You alright?” I asked sweetly, putting on a soft smile as I made my way over to the counter.

“Yeah, fine thanks. You?” He replied, exchanging the same smile which caused my heart to patter in an unsteady rhythm as he paced over to one of the crates, beginning his search for something new. Over time as mine and Graham’s friendship had bloomed, I felt myself forming a sort of tenderness for him. The way he stared at the ground whilst speaking to someone; the way he ruffled through his dark coloured hair ever so often; the way he bit his lip when conflicted against what album he should buy, were all things that I had taken into note after I had caught my eyes staring at him repeatedly, every single time he had entered the shop. And of course, he was immensely good looking, which only added to the long list of things that made me so captivated by his presence. Sometimes he would meet my eyes, to which I would instantly look away, hot flushes forming on both my cheeks over the sudden embarrassment I would receive from being caught admiring someone. Then again, would you not continue to stare at someone who carried an undeniable amount of beauty, that they were so oblivious to understanding that they had?

“I’m alright, we’ve got a couple new 80s records in the crate over there if you’re interested.” I said, exiting the counter as my finger pointed towards the freshly updated crate. Whenever Graham had come into the shop, he tended to spend a good chunk of his time in here, which made me almost addicted to his presence there constantly. We would talk about a lot of things, bridging from best albums of specific decades, to what our favorite candy was. It was a joyful experience, talking to someone that you would have seemingly looked up to for such a long period of time, watching them grow musically, but also physically. In ‘91, all the boys from Blur had charmed themselves with tattered bowl-cuts, which indirectly emphasised their innocent-yet-psychedelic look. Now, his hair was in a much different state, almost completely short yet there was still a small chunk of hair covering his forehead. I much preferred this look of his, though. He looked mature, and pairing with his personality that I have come to be somewhat close with, it boosted his attractiveness. Whenever he left the shop, I would be accompanied with such boredom and sadness right afterwards. I seemingly wanted him here, all the time, adding to the fondness that I had formed for him.

Shifting his gaze to interlock eyes with mine, I felt my heart begin to form into the same unsteady pattern it composed when he had reciprocated my smile. “I’ve pretty much listened to everything that had appealed to me from that decade, it was when I was growing up you know.” He chuckled, which caused my cheeks to heat up a little at the sound of his lovely laugh that I sadly didn’t hear so often than I would’ve liked.

“Well, what have you been coming in here to search for then?” I questioned, slowly making my way to stand next to him as I analysed his actions, his index finger grazing over each album name, mirroring how I was earlier when scanning through the vinyls I needed to unpack. I was able to gain a whiff of his aroma standing near him - he smelled like cigarettes and cologne, a combination that when mixed would sound quite disgusting, but they somehow complimented each other. I attempted to edge my body closer to his, to take a greater look at what exactly he was doing, without it coming across as suggestive. I would have no courage to do something that evocative, anyways.

I allowed my arm to rest on the other crates as my hand held my face. I felt Graham’s stare switch from the vinyls to quickly take a look at me, noticing my new positioning. A very short silence was shared between the pair of us, almost as if Graham was trying to find the right words to say, whilst the music from the radio had continued on playing. “Not too sure, just want to find something to listen to,” he began, slowly trailing off his sentence as he pulled a record out and examined its cover. “I’ve worn out all of my records at this point so I’m practically desperate for something else.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place!” I grinned, making eye contact with him for a short second, before switching to look at the album he was looking at. He was holding up Pavement’s 1997 album, Brighten the Corners. The cover was quite colourful and artsy, almost as if it had come straight out of a cartoon. “Play that on the record player, see if you like it.”

Moving over to the record player that was situated by the cashier, he took the record out of its sleeve, placing it on the turntable as carefully as possible. I turned my body around to watch him place the stylus on the grooves of the record, my body fixated in place. Every so often I would glance at the walls of the shop, which were decorated messily with band posters and tour-dates of multiple bands that you were able to purchase in-store. Although it was untidy, it added to the sensation of music; you don’t need to be the smartest, the most organised, the most put-together person in order to make an amazing album. All you could have is three chords that you are unaware of the names, and you’ve got a song. The Sex Pistols done it, and the message they portrayed was that no matter who you are, you can make music. It’s universal. Sometimes my gaze shifted to look through the window that portrayed the cars passing down the road, with the occasional person walking past. The comparison of outside, where it professedly looked very dull and unhappy, and the liveliness of such a small shop, is what proves the power of music. Life is tedious without some colour in it. Regardless of anything though, my eyes would always trail back to Graham, whose back was resting on the counter where the cashier was, intently listening to the music draining from the turntable. The sweet sounds of pop songs that were once splashing out of the radio were now inaudible; the record player emitted music that was much louder, so it was now the only thing you could hear inside the closed space. By the look of Graham’s expression it seemed that his desperation to listen to something new was much needed than I had come to expect; it was almost as if he depended on the new music to soothe him away from whatever thoughts, or distressing moods that were battling his mind.

Once the song had ended, I decided to ask for his opinion on it. “What do you think?”

I watched him intently as his eyes fluttered back open, examining his facial features slightly. Our eyes had met, and they stayed fixed in place as I began admiring his honey-like orbs. “It was good, might as well get it to hear the rest of the album.” He answered, sighing slightly at the end of his sentence. It was quite obvious, to me, that he had been going through something that he wasn’t able to quite mention or bring up to anyone - especially me, as I am only just a worker he knew quite well inside a record shop. It enthralled me slightly, how mysterious he was, although he was completely projected to the limelight of Top Of The Pops and many interviews countless amounts of times over the years. The thought of asking him how he was always played in my mind; his reaction however, frightened me to the point of me avoiding the topic. I didn’t want to come across as patronising, I simply cared for him, for someone I didn’t even know all that well, too much.

Graham placed the vinyl back into its sleeve gently, and then made his way to where he previously stood - next to me. Although our bodies weren’t touching, I felt as if my skin was entering the gates of hell due to the amount of heat that had been emitting from my skin. He began looking through the same vinyl crate that he did before, whilst my eyes inspected his hands, allowing my thoughts to randomly drift on the feeling of his hand in mine. How soft his palm may feel, how warm it would be - like a hug from a loved one when you needed it most, their touch, caressing, having so much impact that it completely changes your entire mood for a short period of time. How they could perfectly merge together, his and mine. Or not, though either way it would release a sensation of my teenage-girl like self, squealing inside over the fact that a boy that I've seemingly fallen for is in grasp of my palm. I doubt that he was feeling the same things that I was, but in moments so silent but loud, exactly like this one, it was all I could muster a thought about. “You have lovely eyes.”

I noticed Graham pause in his movements once those accidental words slipped off my mouth. Mentally cursing myself, my gaze was fixed on him. The air was a little tense, the pit in my stomach completely empty from my unneeded slip-up of words. “Thank you…” He replied, shifting his gaze over to look at me. He seemed taken aback to my sudden compliment, which made me feel a little embarrassed, causing my cheeks to heat up slightly. “Yours are lovely too.”

My heart fluttered slightly towards the compliment he passed back to me, my lip sinking into my teeth in anticipation towards where the conversation was headed. Graham’s awkward self carried on searching through vinyls, and began walking over to different crates in search for something else. I moved to position myself behind the till, where my gaze followed him as he preoccupied himself in the cover art of multiple vinyls he had taken out, admiring them or looking perplexed by them, then putting them back into their original place if they weren’t appealing to him. I began humming along to the new song that began playing on the radio, as I played with my fingers, deciding on forwarding the conversation to something else. “What are you up to this week?”

“Nothing much… I’m probably going to stay at home. There’s not much to do these days.” He answered, his eyes glued onto the vinyls he had now found. My heart sank after those words left his mouth, almost in pity for him - he didn’t seem like he was fully okay, then again no one is, but it came across as if he had been struggling quite a bit mentally and that he needed someone to be there for him, yet he didn’t know exactly how to ask for it, or maybe he felt cowardly to ask. He began to walk over to the cashier, instigating the fact that he had found the records he’s decided to buy - filling my stomach up in an unusual mix of sadness and anticipation. I wanted him to be here, all the time.

“So I assume you’re not doing anything tonight?” I questioned, taking the vinyls from his hand in order to scan them and place in a bag. I avoided his stare whilst asking, though I could feel the burn of his eyes intently staring at every move I made.

“Yeah, the most I’m going to do is probably listen to these vinyls at home.”

With the little amount of courage I had spared inside, I decided to take a big leap of my conscience and ask him a question he’s undoubtedly been asked so many times before. Lifting my gaze to connect eyes with him after I had finished neatly placing everything into a plastic bag, I handed the vinyls to him. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

“I mean I’d like to go out.” He responded, completely oblivious to what I was egging towards, which only bubbled the apprehension inside me even more. I began to second guess the idea of me asking him out to do something together.

“Graham.” I sternly responded, a hint of annoyance laced between my voice when I spoke his name.

“What?”

Sighing to myself, I realised that his oblivion wasn’t on purpose, which brought the same feeling of a sinking heart in my body. I came to realise that Graham had been so isolated, so deserted from society, that he was completely blind towards someone taking an interest in him. Inhaling sharply, I asked, with my sweetest smile. “Would you like to go out with me tonight?”

Graham’s expression had completely changed from his delirium to shocked. His eyes widened, a reddish tint forming on his cheeks as his lip sank into his bottom teeth. A couple seconds were shared between us staring closely at each other's eyes, as I tried to decipher what was going through his mind. “I- Uh- Yes, sure.”

The little stutter that rolled off his tongue warmed my heart as the beam on my face began to widen. I noticed a small smile starting to curve at the bottom of his lip. “That’ll be fifty pounds, please.”

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #my writing #blur #blur band #90s #nineties #britpop #band imagines #fluff #fanfic

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tamras-shieldmaiden · 4 years ago

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Say it louder and again and again about the Bi erasure in the LOK fandom I ship Kylin but so many of the shippers are so fucking annoying Kya can be a gold star lesbian but Lin is straight or Bi/Pan/Queer and those morons should also stop saying she is a lesbian because she’s not “feminine” enough that shit is offensive

I get you anon, I really do.

We’ve been blessed with the revelation that Kya has had relationships with women and along with korrasami being canon, it’s a victory for representation. We don’t have confirmation about other characters like Lin or Mako but we can still indulge in our headcanons and that’s great and everyone’s free to enjoy whatever hc they come up with. I have plenty of those too. If fans want to hc Lin as a lesbian and that’s what floats their boat (or ship), they should have their fun. It does bother me the erasure of her canon relationship with Tenzin, which according to the series, it was very important to her and despite their differences, one can see how deeply Lin still cares for Tenzin to the point of risking her life for his family. Lin can still perfectly fit the Kyalin hc while acknowledging that Linzin was a thing. My hc is that this is a w/w relationship between a lesbian and a bi woman so it keeps with the canon narrative.

Feminity has nothing to do with being bi or lesbian or ace and it shouldn’t be used as “evidence” of a characters’ orientation. Lin’s a police officer so by default, she’s gonna look tough and tomboyish. A uniform is not cosplay (I know from personal experience) so I really appreciate the fact that Lin or Kuvira don’t look “dolled up” while wearing their uniforms while doing their jobs. Professions like lumberjack or bladesmith or soldier shouldn’t be used as an outer representation of a person’s orientation. Neither concepts like femininity or masculinity. We shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

#anon asks #legend of korra #lok #headcanons #lgbtq #canon #bi/pan erasure #lin beifong #tenzin #kya ii #kyalin #linzin #bisexuality

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magistralucis · 4 years ago

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I plan to read Desiderata but I don't know a thing about Rammstein. What should I know before diving in?

That depends very heavily on what about Rammstein would interest you.

I’ll be honest, anon, Desiderata is not the best story to start with if you’re completely new to R+. The story assumes a familiarity with the band’s history, as well as 1980s East German politics, and depicts both with terms and viewpoints familiar at the time. It’s not very accessible if you want to read a story about Rammstein, I’m afraid, it is very much a period piece.

That said, I can talk a little about what made me write Desiderata; if you’re interested in any of those topics, you’re probably good to go. I will also add some pointers as to how to begin a journey into Rammstein in general. This will be a very long post beneath the cut.

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

1) I’m interested in life during the GDR. I’m especially interested in how ordinary East Germans lived, down to what they ate, the kinds of people they’d meet, where they could travel to for the holidays. What people take for everyday occurrences are anything but outside of their homes. Most of Desiderata takes place in the pre- and early-Rammstein era (1985-1995), when the band members didn’t know they were going to get so big, nor what would happen after the reunification of Germany. I wanted to depict their era realistically. Desiderata is a written painting of that time.

2) I wanted to write on the anti-authoritarian character. To distill a long and complex history down, Rammstein has their origins in Ostpunk, and many of its band members spent their early life resisting the government in one way or another. They didn’t all do this in the same way, nor always with the conscious desire to stick it to the government. Sometimes they paid for it anyway. In Richard’s case, with terrible consequences, as his arrest and detainment by the Stasi finally made him flee the country. Desiderata is written in Richard’s POV and includes a sequence on what might have occurred during this time, as well as an analysis of his general psyche on the years leading up to that arrest. Desiderata’s account relies heavily on actual interviews Richard has done, as well as published Rammstein material, so if you’re interested in a character study of this sort you might like it.

3) I did not want to depict the above through the patronizing lens commonly found in Western media. It’s easy to fall into the trap of binary opposites when you’re writing about stuff like this: Richard was oppressed by the GDR so he must hate everything about the GDR, and/or furthermore, the GDR must have been evil. It’s the other way around if you’re approaching this from an anti-capitalist lens: if the East Germans had known the ‘freedom’ which lay beyond the wall was actually mid-stage capitalism, and if they’d known how badly that shit would break down in a couple of decades, they wouldn’t have wanted it.

Now I do not know what the objectively correct political position is here. But when you’re writing a character study of Richard, it shouldn’t be either of those. It’s definitely not how Rammstein looks at their past, judging by the interviews they’ve given and the books they’ve published; not even Richard has such a black-and-white approach to the life he led. It’s easy to forget that when you’re writing a fic, or even an article which tries to lean on the ‘facts’; one’s subconscious biases inform how they process facts, and I want to do better than that. I’ve fallen into that morality trap before because I didn’t know any better, and as a result I wrote some really bad stories, and I am ashamed of that. Rammstein have led a rich and complicated life with ups and downs. Many of them sincerely loved the GDR, the ones who didn’t still saw plenty of self-admitted good in it. If you would like to bask in my efforts at honesty, as fragmented as it is (for in the end, I am not from the GDR), Desiderata is the best I’ve done to this date.

4) Some good old Tillchard. Yes, I admit it, Desiderata is also a pairing exercise. ‘Tillchard’ is the shorthand for the pairing between Till (vocal) and Richard (lead guitarist); they are longtime friends in real life, and they share a trust between them seldom paralleled by anyone else in the band, imo. They’ve lived together for a time, they raised their daughters together, they began their foray into music in general while being aware of each other. They have duets together for God’s sake. I’ve been digging Tillchard for ten years so I need to stop before this becomes a longer essay than it should be, but long story short, if this becomes the first pairing you’re interested in I’d recommend adding Desiderata to the fanfic pile.

Ultimately, all the above points would still work out for the best if you knew more about Rammstein. Now for the practical recommendations. See if you like their music first: currently they have seven albums out, the most recent of which is Rammstein (2019). I don’t know how hard you like your music, but in order of most hardness to least my rank goes:

Liebe ist für alle da / Reise, Reise

Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Mutter

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

My personal ranking is:

Mutter

Liebe ist für alle da / Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Reise, Reise

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

Their best tracks usually have music videos attached to them. Check them out too. R+ take serious care with their music video narratives, they’re often their own little story in themselves. Their live performances are worth watching, even in video. If you can read German, I would also recommend checking out Rammstein literature, of which there are plenty. Till has three volumes of poetry out (Messer, In Stillen Nachten, 100 Gedichte); Flake has two autobiographies (Der Tastenficker and Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag, the latter of which is available in English); Mix Mir Einen Drink is the biography of Feeling B, which many members of Rammstein played in before Rammstein, and is an invaluable source for GDR life.

Out of everything I’ve listed, as of Feb 2021, Flake’s autobiography is hands-down the best place to begin your Rammstein journey. There will be a more extensive book about Rammstein by Olaf Heine soon, but it won’t be released until later this year.

There is no end goal to how much you should be interested in Rammstein, or what about the band you ought to like. At any point in this journey, try out a fic or two, see what you like. The fandom has written about basically every music video, every notable event that happened to the band (some may include sources!), and just about every combination of pairings possible among the six. You are in very well-covered territory, I promise :D

Feel free to ask more questions if need be. There is so much you can write about this band, I’ve definitely not covered everything. If at any point in this process you read Desiderata, and you end up enjoying it, that’s all I could ask for.

#Anonymous #tillchard #long post under cut #rammstein fanfiction #desiderata

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slashhinginghasher · 4 years ago

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Could a girl get a Drabble of seeing Brahms without the mask on now that we’re all thirsty 🥺

This has been sitting in my inbox for so long, anon you are a saint for your patience

Kiss - Brahms Heelshire x Reader

“No!”

You threw yourself to the side just in time to avoid the vase as it shattered against the wall. It had been quite some time since Brahms had thrown (literally, thrown) a tantrum of this caliber, but apparently asking to clean to his mask had brought out his brattiest side. You had started by asking nicely, of course, but you had each gotten more and more insistent, which was how you’d ended up in the library with Brahms hurling everything he could find around the room.

“Fine!” you shouted, tossing your hands in the air. “Don’t wash, then! But you don’t get anymore goodnight kisses until that filthy thing is clean. It’s gross!”

“You can’t do that! It’s against the rules!”

“New rule!” you announced, snatching up a pen and marching over to the rules list on the wall. “Naughty boys who don’t wash properly don’t get goodnight kisses.” You underlined the new rule twice, turned around triumphantly, and were immediately hit in the face with what must have been the fattest book in the Heelshire library.

***

“Shit,” you mumbled, wincing as you prodded at the large bruise on your forehead. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” Brahms may have been a grown man, but it was your responsibility to be the adult in these situations. Losing your temper like that... One could not fight brattiness with brattiness. And boy, did you feel like the biggest brat in the world right now, pushing and prodding at something that was obviously a very sensitive topic for Brahms. Whether his issues were purely psychological or due to something physical, he was hiding his face for a reason. By pushing so hard and so callously, you hadn’t just been a bad nanny. You’d been a bad friend. And now Brahms had disappeared into the walls and you probably wouldn’t see him for days.

But you needed to apologize to him now, so you went to his room and picked up the Brahms doll, which had been collecting dust in the corner ever since the real Brahms had shown himself to you months prior.

“I’m sorry, Brahmsy,” you said, enunciating clearly out of habit. “That was so mean of me. It wasn’t right. You don’t have to forgive me right now, but I hope we can still be friends.” You picked up a comb from the dresser and began to brush out the doll’s shiny locks. “Are we still friends?”

A quiet thud sounded within the wall. Your hand froze.

“Brahms?”

Silence.

“Brahms, baby, I’m really, really sorry.” Your eyes burned with approaching tears, and you sniffed. “I was awful. Whatever your reason for... Your reasons for your mask are your business. And not wanting to take it off doesn’t make you bad, or naughty, and I shouldn’t have tried to punish you for it, and I’m so, so sorry.”

More silence.

You set the doll down and went to bed early, feeling miserable.

***

You awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of your bathroom faucet running. Pushing yourself upright in bed, you rubbed some of the sleep from your eyes and squinted at the doorway. Weak moonlight outlined a tall, dark figure hunched over the sink.

“Brahms?” He flinched at the sound of your sleepy voice, turning slightly towards you. The light glinted off something in his hand. Something smooth and pale...

He was washing his mask.

“Baby...” The word was barely more than a whisper, choked by a sudden rush of emotion. Brahms was tense, a rabbit ready to bolt. The enormity of the situation struck you all at once, and you clapped your hands over your eyes.

“It’s okay, Brahmsy, I’m not looking. I won’t look unless you say I can.” Sounds of shuffling from the bathroom. The tap shut off, footsteps creaking over the floorboards, coming to a stop by your bed. Your skin prickled with an intense awareness of the body next to you, your pounding heart nearly drowning out everything else in the room.

“Y/N.” Brahms’ voice was low and rough. A man’s voice. A wholly inappropriate flash of heat zinged down your spine and coiled in your lower belly as a calloused hand grasped your wrist and pulled your hand away from your eyes.

The moon illuminated high cheekbones, a strong brow, and a straight, Grecian nose. Soft, full lips parted around gasping breaths, so hurried he was nearly hyperventilating. Raised burn scars, which would probably be an angry pink in the daylight, traced over one side of his face, creating small patches in his eyebrow and thick beard. Honestly, you had been expecting some sort of disfigurement beneath the mask, and this wasn’t anywhere near as drastic as what you had been imagining. His face wasn’t defined by the scars; they were just there. Brahms’ eyes glittered almost black in the moonlight, the abject terror in them enough to make your heart ache.

“Oh, Brahmsy...” you breathed. “So handsome.” You lifted a hand and let it hover in the air between you. “Can I touch you?” Brahms hesitated, twisting his mask with long fingers, before giving a single jerky nod. You touched the unscarred side of his face first, running your thumb over his cheek and caressing the line where soft skin met the prickle of his beard. Slowly, so slowly, you raised your other hand to the scarred side. Brahms flinched at your gentle touch and you held still, waiting for him to push your hand away. Instead, his eyes slid shut and he covered your hand with his, leaning into your touch.

“So handsome,” you whispered again, choking on the intensity, the intimacy of the moment. “My handsome boy.” Brahms reopened his eyes and held up the mask, showing you the clean porcelain.

“Kiss?” His voice was high and childlike again, and you were secretly relieved. If he’d asked you in that other voice, you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself from jumping his bones.

“Of course.” You smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Good boys get kisses.” You kissed his nose. “As many as they want.” You lowered your lips to his. They were soft and warm, and he tasted... You weren’t sure how to describe Brahms’ flavor, but as you pulled back, all you wanted to do was lose yourself in him and never return. Judging by the flush on Brahms’ face and the way his pupils were dilated, he felt very much the same.

“Again,” he demanded, and pulled you back to him without waiting for an answer. You hardly minded. One hand clutched at your waist, the other holding the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. His movements were sloppy and inelegant, but what he lacked in skill he more than made up for in passion. You tilted your head slightly, creating a better angle, and nipped slightly at his lower lip. Brahms growled at that, the sound shooting straight to your core.

“Pretty Y/N,” he mumbled, lips brushing yours with every word. “Pretty, pretty, pretty.”

“No, you,” you teased, smiling against his mouth. You were crying, or he was crying, or you were both crying, but either way your cheeks were damp and the moment was so perfect you felt you could fly. Brahms pulled back a few inches, gasping like he’d just run a marathon. You ran your thumbs over his cheeks in gentle circles, trying to communicate all your love through the simple touch.

You pressed your forehead to his, then hissed and recoiled. The bruise he’d given you, all but forgotten, had chosen that moment to remind you of its existence. Brahms watched you rub at the throbbing mark with no remorse.

“I forgive you,” he said.

“Oh, good,” you replied sarcastically. “I was a little worried there that you hadn’t.” Brahms frowned, but before your big mouth could ruin the moment, you leaned forward and gave him another quick kiss.

“I’m teasing,” you reassured, pulling back the covers. “Come to bed, you silly, handsome boy.”

For once, Brahms did not argue.

#requests #brahms heelshire #haha whoops this is fluffy #the boy #god damn now i wanna make out with someone #my writing #that creative title tho amirite

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skamesp · 3 years ago

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4, 10 & 24 for the book ask if you haven't answered them yet (^_^)

Hiii anon! 🏵🏵🏵🏵🏵

4 - What’s the next book you’re hoping to read?

I really want to read Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell.

Set in Stratford, England, in the late 16th century, Hamnet imagines the emotional, domestic, and artistic repercussions after the world's most famous (though never named) playwright and his wife lose their only son, 11-year-old Hamnet, to the bubonic plague in 1596.

It sounds very interesting, but I don't usually read historical fiction, so let's see how it turns out hehe

10 - Have you ever judged a book by its cover?

Yep, i'm guilty but it's not my fault :( the illustrators shouldn't make such pretty covers 😭😭😭😭

24 - How willing are you to lend your books to other people?

I'd love to do it just to talk about books with friends, but they don't like reading and i'm /the friend who reads/. Sometimes i've thought about making a blog or an instagram account to post about what i read and share it with other people, but in the end i never do it :(

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namtanlovesfilm · 4 years ago

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I’m sorry Axelle but Drag, I Love You is so transphobic, encouraging violence towards trans people... And seeing that you are very excited about that show, it makes me feel uncomfortable because you are one of the blogs that I always read, but yeah you sometimes make a somewhat problematic posts

okay so I contemplated deleting this ask bc sadly when I address things hate tends to come my way, but you seem like a genuinely nice anon & also I wanna clarify some things: when I initially shared my thoughts on the show, it was right after the gmmtv 2021 live had ended, I had just watched 16 trailers, giffed, screamed at so many shows & the post I made was generally done as a first impression of the trailers. I actually received a few anons telling me drag I love you might be transphobic but none actually told me why. I genuinely didn’t pick up on the violence about trans people in the trailer & I haven’t rewatched it but if that is the case I’m obviously not gonna advertize such a show. I was just really excited bc I adore joss & namtan and the show had a lot of lgbtq+ actors & actresses which doesn’t happen often & should be celebrated. so I would never knowingly advertize a transphobic show, but I also believe that we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and I will be watching the next trailer to see if there really are problematic elements as apparently put in that first trailer. also gonna be honest, I kinda forgot about this show so frankly I’m not that excited about it, I’m just curious about it bc again I love the cast. but I wanna make it clear that I would never promote & make the apology of a show that is transphobic bc it’s literally at the opposite of all my core values. as for me sometimes writing problematic things, I’m extremely sorry! I’m someone who speaks (& in that case write) without thinking & tends to be too blunt and honest so I know sometimes it can come off as problematic but I promise I’ll do my very best to correct that & put more thoughts into my words!

xxx

#answers

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome back, welcome back! We have a relatively short chapter this time, which theoretically means it shouldn't have taken me as long as it did to write this recap. Yet here we are.

We open again on Sun's perspective as he joins a large group in the dorm common room. Recall that last chapter Velvet said she wanted to show SSSN something and I took issue with her "Speaking of family" line. We'll get to that in just a bit, as well as the surprise element of this chapter. Moving chronologically though, we learn that this group is the self-named Beacon Brigade and there has been a unanimous vote to allow SSSN to become a part of whatever the Brigade is doing. "Everyone here helped defend our home and school," Velvet says, "even though they didn’t have to. We’re grateful. As far as we’re concerned, you’re all honorary Beacon students." That's a rather nice sentiment and, once again, Velvet shows herself to be the best and most mature character presented so far. That's not a terribly high bar to clear and as established last chapter, she definitely contributes to the intense Sun-bashing, but this is one of the sweetest lines I've heard from RWBY in a while, so kudos.

Sun, however, doesn't take kindly to the inclusion. "Whatever that means anymore, Sun thought. Then he chided himself. To the others here, it still meant a lot." That's how you do a character flaw without making them a complete asshole. You either have someone else call the character out (paying careful attention to whether that person's opinion has any weight in the story—something the webseries still needs to work on), or you have the character call themselves out. Which Sun does here. The story allows Sun to have this flaw while likewise recognizing that he's not being fair to the others. That's a conscientious human being right there.

Or a faunus. You get what I'm saying.

Sun continues to unpack his prejudices and acknowledges that he's not a big fan of how that mentality impacts the formation of teams: "That was the whole point of the team system—to become part of something, to define yourself, to lose yourself in it. A team made you someone new, someone better." But for Sun that's too much attachment. He claims he's not the type to get attached to either people or places, though his willingness to follow Blake to Menagerie on a "What if?" says differently. Here we get to see how Sun thinks of himself as someone outside of these community ties even as he tries so hard to maintain them. It's a part of his personality that—for reasons I assume have to do with his past—he is unwilling to acknowledge yet.

The rest of this group is introduced, including Team ARBN and Nolan, originally a member of Team BRNZ. Where are the other three? Oh, they died at the Fall of Beacon.

Cue me putting the book down for a solid minute because this is one hell of a deviation from the tone of the webseries. With (maybe) the exception of the Schnee charity ball, the Fall of Beacon has been presented as no worse than what we, the viewer, directly experienced. Meaning that the end of Volume 3 was the moment RWBY went from a lighthearted action show to a tragic epic trying to take itself seriously, and crucially the show has made it seem like we were privy to everything that was a part of that change: Penny dies. Pyrrha dies. Yang loses an arm. Everyone is forced to abandon their school. Those are the four events that made this the Fall of Beacon and already we had a problem with how little the show chose to grapple with those things. Ruby's nightmares conveniently disappear. Yang has no difficulty fighting despite working through PTSD. Ruby doesn't seem to care that the friend she saw killed is miraculously standing before her. These events are, by and large, not integrated into the cast's feelings, reactions, and motivations and when they are it's to say that such a tragedy has no bearing on difficult things like trust (Ozpin) or that those who are still haunted by the Fall are unstable and unfit to lead (Ironwood). Post Volume 4 these events haven't been given the proper weight, which is bad enough on its own, yet now we find out that things were even worse than they first appeared?

Penny and Pyrrha were not the only ones to die. The Fall was always a tragedy, but this is a tragedy that goes beyond our core group of characters. Was anyone going to mention that Jaune, Nora, and Ren weren't the only ones to lose a teammate? That an entire generation of huntsmen are working through this on a far more personal level than previously established? As said, it's bad enough that the webseries has glossed over Pyrrha's death for everyone but Jaune, yet now BTD comes in to say, "Yeah, some of these kids lost their entire team. Remember these guys?"

"Everyone on the right is dead now." No need to make room for that in your primary story.

(As an aside, an anon once asked whether it's weird that Pyrrha got a statue in Argus. At the time I argued strongly that it wasn't, partly due to her celebrity status and the fact that this was her home city, but also because she seemed to be the only "real" death in the Fall. Obviously we as the viewers count Penny as well, but the world may not view the dismantling of an android in the same way they'd view the murder of an organic teenager. As the single "real" death that Beacon suffered, Pyrrha's memory shoulders that attention... but now this little tidbit blows all that out of the water. Apparently lots of kids lost their lives that day and our webseries hasn't taken the time to acknowledge that.)

So I'm reeling from this revelation and taking in what it's done to Nolan: "He was even thinner than he'd been last year at the Vytal Festival, and his rose-colored glasses didn't hide the dark shadows under his eyes." Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that at least some part of the RWBY-verse is acknowledging the severity of Volume 3's finale, it just rankles that this work is relegated to a supplementary novel already loaded with other problems, rather than put into our main storyline where it would do more good.

Speaking of those problems, we get another conversation about how unnecessarily cruel the Shade students are. I like the little pun on "shade" that Nadir gives—"Let’s just say some of the Vacuan students here are giving a new meaning to ‘Shade’ Academy"—but I’m not sure why Myers feels the need to follow that up with Nadir giving an awkward explanation. I can't remember precisely where, but didn't we see this already? With Sun or Neptune? Plus we definitely just got Fox's 'joke' that went over Neptune's head. Not every character needs to be #awkward regarding humor and you can trust your reader to get the joke without explaining it each time. That’s a specific character trait that feels like it’s being applied to too many characters now. Moving on, Arslan speaks my mind by pointing out that, regardless of what Shade might think about them "abandoning" the academies, it's not a productive attitude. Their new peers are more interested in beating them down for what's already happened than discussing how they can move forward as allies (sound like any main characters we know?) So the group strikes up a conversation about what they can actually accomplish. We learn that Yatsuhashi has been leading some of them through meditation and others take the time to share their survivor's guilt, admitting that the Shade students' attitude sometimes feels like a punishment they deserve. Iris brings up Castor, another peer who perished at Beacon, and Nolan continues to grapple with the death of his teammates. Yet despite the severity of these admissions, Sun still isn’t impressed.

“Yeah. Because you ran away, Sun thought, unable to stop himself, even though this was the exact thing the other Shade students were thinking of the Beacon and Haven survivors. No wonder Nolan was here—he was probably getting criticized worse than anyone, because Shade students were supposed to be stronger than everyone else.”

Okay wait, does Sun actually know that Nolan ran away? Is "ran away" in the context of Nolan's specific battle (his team was fighting a mech or something and he split), or is it in the context of the entire Fall (he failed to take back Beacon and therefore 'ran')? That's a huge difference because if it's the latter (and I suspect it is)... Sun ran away too. Has Sun—and Myers—forgotten that he was there? At the Fall. Right there on the left.

It feels more than a little disingenuous of Sun to be adopting any of the Shade Academy's criticism when he himself was a part of the 'failing' group. Why is he acting like he’s an outside observer, judging Nolan when they went through the same horror? When he too ‘ran’ from that fight? Obviously this ‘You ran away’ perspective is just garbage all on its own, but I'm really distracted by what appears to be only three explanations:

Nolan really did ditch his team, Sun knows about it, and this is all info that I've missed from the previous book (always possible)

Nolan really did ditch his team, Sun knows about it, but Myers isn't interested in telling us how Sun got that info or why it’s important

Nolan never ditched his team, 'ran away' is in the context of leaving Beacon to the grimm, and Sun is so deep in his denial he’s removed himself from the facts of the situation. You didn't save Beacon either, Sun!

I'm just

Sun isn't done yet though and before we cover that I just want to say: I get it. This book drags him to an unreasonable degree and any Sun fan must just be frothing at the mouth reading through this. However, I also can't claim that Myers has made Sun particularly endearing here. Like in the prologue when Sun is all about being a solo act, denying reality, and ignoring the harm he's done to his team, here he's presented as someone I'm just not interested in spending time with. I know I praised him above for correcting his knee-jerk thoughts, but like with Coco's flaw becoming overdone Sun-bashing, Sun’s attitude it so over the top I get frustrated with him even while I sympathize with the extreme criticism he’s shouldering. Because this Sun isn’t any kinder or wiser than the group targeting him:

“But he’d believe it when he saw it. It was easy to talk about doing something, and another thing to follow through on it. Maybe that was what he didn’t like about this group. So far it was all just sitting around and talking. They should be focused on moving on— channeling their strength toward protecting their new home, their new friends.”

Sun has little to no faith that this group can accomplish the things they set out to do (despite evidence to the contrary). He's critical of what they have chosen to do and is dismissive of their needs. He likewise criticizes others for not taking care of their home and their friends... even though he's the one who left his team to chase after Blake, someone who explicitly did not want or need his assistance. It's something Sun himself brings up later on: "Blake may not have needed or wanted him, but there was no doubt in his mind that he had helped" and it's his dismissive attitude here that’s my primary issue with him both in the webseries and in this novel. Sun prioritizes his own desires (I want to help) over everyone else's desires and needs (Blake didn't want my help and didn't need it). We see him doing the same thing here, rejecting what a very large group all needs because it's not something he as an individual wants. It feels contradictory to call Sun selfish because his desires do revolve around helping others—his wants are all coming from a loving place—it's just that how he prioritizes that drive to help often ends up hurting others and he continually refuses to acknowledge that. His “but I helped” is used as a catch-all justification for the bad choices he made in providing that (unwanted) assistance. Like creepily following a woman, or ditching his team, or getting in over his head by following three goons alone, or criticizing a conversation that others find beneficial. To reiterate, I do think that Sun has gotten way too much heat in this novel, but I also can't pretend that he's a character I'm particularly fond of. He made me uncomfortable the moment spying on four women in their bedroom was played as a joke and RWBY has done very little to endear me to him since. It's a bit of a surreal experience to read about someone I’m very critical of, but when the material itself criticizes him I’m suddenly like, "Hold up. That's going too far."

Reading about Sun feels like watching someone who insists they help another bake a cake. The baker does not want help, does not need help, but our character is just desperate to do something. So he forcefully takes the ingredients for himself and ends up ruining the batter. I'm like, "Okay, that's not appropriate. You're coming from a good place and you never meant any harm, but your actions were still a problem. We should address this, including where that desperate need to help is coming from."

Except then the baker 'addresses this' by screaming at him at the top of their lungs, throwing things, and banning him from the kitchen for all time.

Me: "Not like that!!"

Simply put: this novel is generating a lot of emotions and very few of them are pleasant.

Things finally come to a head when Sun rolls his eyes because he doesn't like therapy—wait.

Hold up. Just give me another second.

You remember I spoke about the "surprise element" earlier? Think about the structure of the last chapter. We end on what's essentially a small cliffhanger. Velvet says she wants to show Team SSSN something but the reader doesn't know what that is. We’re waiting for the reveal. Yet we only learn that the group is having a therapy session four pages in—and this is a six page chapter. (Yes, I'm writing twice as much as the source material. You all know I'm not succinct :p ). Myers is now demonstrating a habit of not introducing the core aspects of a scene: who, what, where, when, and why. We've got half of that— who, when, and where—but not the 'what' or the 'why.' What is the group doing in the city in the middle of the day? Are they patrolling? Out to lunch? Following a lead? Looks like they're visiting a wall. Would have been nice to know that a couple pages earlier. Oh, there's a souvenir table there? Didn't feel like it, and it was never mentioned in the scene setup, so that’s an awkward surprise. Now Velvet wants to show them something. What is it? No seriously... what is it? Please tell me what's going on before we're more than halfway through the event in question. Granted yes, you might be able to deduce that they're in therapy, but we don't know that for sure until Sun uses the word. And we need to know in order to properly read the scene. I spent the first four pages thinking that this group was an expansion of CFVY's solo missions. While they were talking I was waiting for Velvet to reveal what she wanted to share—another secret mission they were conducting, or something—not realizing that the conversation itself was it. That’s the reveal. I mean, Beacon Brigade isn't exactly a name that makes you think "therapy." They're labeling themselves an army, ergo I assumed this had something to do with their war. That is, more to do with it than working through the aftermath.

In retrospect it is somewhat obvious that these students are engaging in group therapy... but at the same time it's not because I would think, technically, that this isn't therapy. Who's the therapist? Velvet? She's the one leading, but she's also an unlicensed, traumatized teen just like everyone else in the room. It's a support group and that's fantastic, I'm honestly thrilled one of RWBY's stories decided to incorporate this, but at the same time it's odd to have Sun seriously referring to this as therapy like this is comparable to receiving professional help. I’m bringing this up because we saw the same perspective regarding RWBYJNR's status as huntresses. That's a job, something earned and presented to you by an expert, but up until Volume 7 Ruby seemed to be working under the impression that because she wanted to be a huntress and because she did vaguely huntress-like things, she was one. Simple as that. But crucially she wasn't and that lack of knowledge, maturity, and training caused serious problems in Volume 6. Now we have a group calling their activity therapy, doing vaguely therapy-like things, but Velvet isn't a therapist. I'm saying that not to knock the excellent work she's doing to help both herself and her friends (and I'm also quite aware that I'm missing an entire book's worth of information that may be pertinent here) but rather, I bring it up to acknowledge that the whole of the RWBY-verse seems to have a skewed idea of how professionalism works. We've got a lot of teens in this franchise who are put in positions of power when by all logic they shouldn't be. RWBY has failed to do the work of coming up with compelling reasons for why these half-trained teens keep getting put in charge of stuff, which is what any story staring kids and teens needs to do.

Anyway, I've rambled on about that enough. As said, Sun isn't enjoying the touchy-feely-ness of it all, even when Velvet reiterates that they're "like family." Coco reminds him that he's free to leave, but of course she turns it into an insult: "Maybe you’re not ready for this.” Sun ignores the implication and does try to leave, admitting that what he has to say probably won't go over well. The others encourage him to share though, it's a safe space... until Scarlet makes a dig about keeping them waiting again. I'm simultaneously going, "He's right. Sun still refuses to acknowledge how badly he hurt his team" and also "#Yikes. So much for this being a safe place!"

What I’m saying is these kids all need an actual therapist. Sun himself is described as feeling "strangely disconnected from his body. Unsettled” at the start of the chapter. The tragedy here is that one of the characters most in need of this help is the one digging his heels in the most.

It gets worse though. Sun finally caves and his take is, as one would expect given his feelings thus far, not great: "This is why Vacuans won’t trust you. Because you’re holding on to who you were and where you came from instead of focusing on where you are.” He also claims that “Theo really wouldn’t like this," making it sound like the group is breaking rules and should be ashamed of trying to cope with their trauma in a healthy manner. He ends with the confident belief that Vacuans understand them completely because they punish themselves by staying in the same, harsh place.

(So do these people move on or not?? Ugh I can't get into this again.)

Scarlet, as Sun predicted, isn't pleased to hear any of this. Frankly I can't blame him. "Like you didn’t leave us the first chance you got to chase after someone you barely knew who didn’t want your help?" he says. "You didn’t even stay in Vacuo for school —you chose Haven.”

He's not wrong. Hard as it is to hear, Scarlet has a point. Sun did abandon his team. He did chase after someone he'd just met who didn't want his help. He did choose to go to Haven because, as he explained last chapter, he's not a big fan of Vacuo. Which isn't a bad thing in and of itself, it just means he's not in a position to criticize others for not immediately adoring this kingdom, rejecting Beacon in the process. Like so many other RWBY protagonists, Sun holds others to a standard he doesn’t demand of himself. I can hate Vacuo and leave because there are things about it that make me uncomfortable, but you have to learn to appreciate it and forget what’s outside this kingdom, despite never having a choice about coming here. It’s food for thought and something he should be encouraged to consider. However then:

“You wouldn’t know anything about loss, Sun. You never stay in one place long enough to learn.”

That's not a point, that's just cruelty, and it's an attack that clearly hurts Sun a great deal. He flushes and snaps, "You all belong in Vacuo more than you think." Really, they all do. He reiterates to himself that there's nothing to work through, they all just need to move on, and then he really does leave, saying that he'll see them for patrol. Well, at least Sun isn’t planning on going off on his own again, even if he is on the outs with his friends.

So that was an all around depressing chapter! I didn't like it. I was honestly shocked when I went back and realized that it was only six pages because it felt far longer. We're now three chapters into this novel... with only nineteen more to go 😬

Until next time!

#rwby #rwde #mymeta #before the dawn #BTD Recaps

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unlimitedfateimagines · 5 years ago

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Cu Chulainn Alter (Berserker) + Master who’s gentle, sweet and klutzy yet intimidating

Ask: Hc for BerserCu that has a female master s/o that’s kinda small and really gentle and sweet but can sometimes seem like a klutz or frail but can also actually be v intelligent and surprisingly intimidating?

Sent by: Anon

A/N: another rewrite!! was reading it thru to correct and add in some stuff and to the anon who requested this like a year ago on my old blog, these are still some of my favourite requests i have written!! (this is like 4 pages of hcs in my google docs) thank you so much for requesting ♡ i’m slowly rewriting everything because finals are coming and so are college applications ;;v;; please be patient with me

Warnings: None

In all honesty, when he saw you as he materialized in Chaldea, he wasn’t expecting you to be as grand as everyone around; actually, far from it. With your short stature and gentle yet surprised and frail look when you summoned him, he wasn’t so sure about how this War would be.

Roughly around the first weeks he was summoned, he noticed you being very kind and sweet to almost every Servant out there, even Edmond Dantes and Jeanne Alter.

Though you did try to keep a respectable distance to a few Servants, giving them some personal space when needed. He figured he could get along with you to some extent if you were the type to be smart enough, according to him, to take note of his short answers and aloof body language to leave him alone asides from discussing missions and quests. He already has some respect, although small, for you.

He also saw you trip and bump into small stuff, like the plant at the end of the hall, when you bumped into the door frame or when you missed the last step of the stairs and slammed onto the ground face first, having Nightingale, Irisviel and Raikou immediately coming to your rescue.

But what surprised him the most, despite always seeing you being klutzy and tripping over air, was your ability to quickly assess the situation and think of many possibilities to overcome the problem which saved you and your Servants many times.

Notably in Camelot, when everyone was gathered around the Holy City for the Holy Selection, you immediately thought there was something wrong when you took note of the villagers of the East’s behaviour, how they seemed to be nervous and how the women were hunched back, as if they were cowering in fear of something. Some of them were scared of the Lion King but a good part of the villagers still go at the castle gates, despite the fear that resided within them. It was only you saw the light beam that your instincts kicked in and urged as many people as possible to get out and retreat to a safe distance from the walls, but they refused and you were pulled away by Mashu.

Cu Alter watched you as he sighed, but he immediately had his thoughts taken aback when he saw Gawain marching out and only selecting three people out of the thousands of villagers to enter the Holy City before seeing them all fall to Rhongomyniad, seeing the villager’s bodies gone when the light from the Holy Lance died.

His first reaction was to immediately pull you away from the destructive light and hold you close to him. He was surprised by his own actions and wondered why his first instinct was to try and protect you, a stronger instinct and feeling that was more than a simple “She is my Master.”

He still remains indifferent but starts to acknowledge your skills and that you were more than a klutzy Master who bumps into walls and door frames with your head buried in documents and a tablet.

That being said, he also started being protective. He’ll do little things like subtly wrap around his tail around your waist in a manner of not hurting you with its spikes or tower behind you, glaring daggers at the enemy.

After seeing you stand up for your own, eyes glinting with determination and igniting with fire, against the many Servants of each Singularity who looked down on you, he then actually started to become interested in you. Of course, he would never go out and admit it.

He still keeps his protective demeanor with you, simply towering the enemy with his height and his intimidating glare, a tight grip around Gae Bolg. Although he doesn’t wrap his tail around you in public as much as before, he loves and does it all the time in private. When sleeping, he likes to wrap his tail around you and hold you close, snuggling in his chest.

He’s glad that you’re intelligent and intimidating sometimes. He always has a little smirk when you glare daggers at the enemy; the latter scared that a person with such a small stature would scare their wits off and possibly pee in their pants while they’re at it.

“Oh? Are you underestimating your opponent?” you ask, looking up at the fat man with a death glare. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know. Who knows what I might do? I certainly may not be the best Master out there, but you should be careful of what humans are capable of when they’re determined and have their eyes set on something; they’ll manage to get ahold of their desires no matter what.”

He’s so proud of you every time you scare the living life out of someone.

He also gives you head pats. They’re discreet when you two are together on a quest, sometimes he’ll call you to fall back behind and give you a head pat and ruffle your hair affectionately, getting small giggles from your soft and plump lips.

He’ll rather give Gae Bolg to his Caster self than to admit this, but he does get a bit jealous when you have that gentle gaze every time you’re speaking to other Servants and being sweet; he adores your gentle and sweet side. The way how you would look at him so tenderly when you both are alone or hearing your voice, sweet as honey, whenever you would do the talk most of the time. He loves them all. There’s always a tinge in his heart when you talk to other Servants in the same way.

On this thought, he doesn’t entirely like Mash. He thinks of her more of an annoyance sometimes because of how she’s clingy towards you and how she’s constantly there. When he gets too annoyed with her blabbering, he simply whisks you away from her with something amongst the lines of “[Y/N] has something urgent to do for now. Please excuse us.”

And your laugh. He loves your laugh so much. The way how your shoulders and your back gently slouch and the happy glint in your eyes always makes his day even better. He also loves to pull some strands of your hair back behind your ear.

All of what he thought of you before like how you were just a klutzy Master? That doesn’t exist anymore. He loves you. With your frail appearance, you often get judged by other Servants, especially when battling them in a Singularity. Before you could even budge, he protectively wraps his tail around you, not caring what anyone says, and glares at your enemy.

Of course, he’ll never admit it, but he likes it when you take his hood and put it on. It’s so big and it hides half of your face. He likes lifting it up and kiss you, liking your surprised and flustered expression after, a cocky grin on his face.

Despite his constant stoic and cold expression, he genuinely loves you. He simply prefers expressing his love more in private than public because he finds it a pain when everyone freaks out when two people get together and doesn’t feel like exposing his own private life with the rest of the Servants in Chaldea.

#fate grand order #cu chulainn #cu alter #cu chulainn alter #fate series #fgo #berserker alter #fate stay night #e pluribus unum #fate imagines #fate zero #fate apocrypha #headcanons #tiane's writing #mod tiane #bersercu #berserker #i remember rly rly loving these headcanons while writing them sobs #cu alter pls come home i'm begging you

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abbacchiosbelt · 5 years ago

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i hope you enjoy this fluff piece with our favorite ocean man, anon! i hope you feel better soon. 🌊

When I’m With You | Jotaro x Reader

The first time you’d seen Jotaro – towering over you to reach a book on the highest shelf in the library – you’d been desperate to say something about how the book he picked out was good, but anxiety over talking to a (very handsome) stranger gnawed at your gut until he was out of sight.

The second time you saw Jotaro – looking through the selection of historical fiction books at a used bookstore you frequented – you vowed that it had to be fate. To run across this handsome stranger twice in such a big town… well, it’d be a shame to not even try to talk to him, as much as the anxiety in the pit of your stomach was telling you not to.

You slid next to him, eyeing him for a moment before pointing out a book you had enjoyed tucked into the corner.

“That one is good.” Jotaro had acknowledges you with a quiet grunt and picks up the book, turning it over to read the back cover.

“Thanks.” He’s so quiet that it surprises you, though you supposed you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. His eyes, though – ocean blue and piercing – are perhaps the prettiest you’ve ever seen. They match his face, which has a sort of beauty you’d only seen on the cover of magazines. He may be dressed strange, long white coat and ripped hat, but it works for him. You expect to have no chance, really, but something about the way he doesn’t immediately shy away has you hopeful for something.

He’s silent for a moment while he stands and stares behind you, before he decides better and extends a large hand.

“Jotaro.” It’s not what you expected, but you meet his gesture and notice how warm his hand is, his grip strong when the two of you shake.

A month after you meet, Jotaro asks you on a date to the local aquarium. It was enchanting to you, to see his normally stoic face soften in the blue light of the aquarium. This center, he’d told you, ensured animal health and rehabilitation first. There was a quiet comfort in the way he’d led you to a temporary exhibit with jellyfish and touched the side of his hand with yours, the two of you watching happily as the jellyfish floated in their exhibit.

One date turned into two, two into three, and six months later, you found your clothes fitted next to Jotaro’s in your small shared closet.

It was a cozy apartment, comfortable enough for the two of you and not much else. You had decorated it in neutrals and blues, incorporating a mix of your tastes and Jotaro’s. A framed picture of the two of you, gentle smile on both your faces, sat on top of your bookshelf. Jotaro had one in his office (the second bedroom, actually) with more academic books, but the two of you had a beautiful antique bookshelf in the living room lined with a collection of your favorite books.

Your relationship was quiet intimacy – reading books side by side on the couch, a shared cup of coffee on late nights, the press of Jotaro’s lips on your temple when he left before you, the notes you left in his books as reminders. It was a type of domesticity that you didn’t know you needed, but you couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect.

Jotaro understood your quiet nature as well as he understood his own. Little looks and sly smiles were a secret language between the two of you, offering you the comfort of communication without stumbling over your words.

There were times, though, when the two of you shared the words out loud that you’d been silently exchanging that week.

Jotaro had come home that night with a soft expression on his face, his large form coming to rest next to yours on the couch as soon as his shoes were off. By the slump of your shoulders he knew that you hadn’t been feeling well.

“Hey,” he murmurs. You turn your head to him, forcing yourself to smile just a little.

“Hi.” His eyebrows knit in concern at your voice – he was far too good at reading your tone for someone who didn’t talk very much.

“Let’s go.” Jotaro says, giving you no time to question where you’re going. It’s so sudden you think he might be frustrated, but the tiny upward quirk of his lip you see peeking out when he turns back to look at you tells you he has something planned.

With your shoes on, still clad in comfortable pajamas, you get in the passenger seat and close your eyes as Jotaro starts to drive. It’s silent, as usual, but the quiet atmosphere is welcome.

A few minutes later, you watch as Jotaro pulls up to one of the local beaches he had been assigned to for his research study. It had closed early today for some event that had happened, so it’s mercifully empty. The only thing in front of you is the stretch of the sea and the dusky hues of the sky as the sun starts to set.

“Jojo?” You say, but he’s already unbuckling his seatbelt and beckoning you out of the car. With a sigh, you follow suit and come around to his side, feeling a little awkward compared to how sharp he still looks. His figure cuts an impressive picture against the scenic background, but it only sends a pang of anxiety through your stomach.

He had never cared about what you wore – though you felt that sometimes you should dress up more to match him.

He wordlessly takes your hand, his big fingers slipping in easily through yours in a practiced gesture. Jotaro had never loved PDA – and neither did you, for what it was worth – but he had a fondness for holding your hand on the beach.

(Perhaps the romance movies Joseph and Holly had watched in front of him had a little influence.)

Shrugging your shoes off next to his on the soft grass, he gently tugs you onto the soft and warm sand. The two of you stand for a moment as the sand sinks between your toes, taking in the gentle sound of the waves and the salty ocean breeze in the air.

“Let’s walk.” Jotaro says, soft. You slowly make your way to the edge of the water before starting a path down the beach, an unspoken affection hovering between the two of you. Jotaro points out any interesting shells (though you know better by now than to pick them up—), happiness evident in his voice.

The beach was Jotaro’s comfort zone – and through dating him, you had learned to love it as well. Not as much as Jotaro did, no, but enough that it had a soothing affect on your tired mind.

Jotaro, never minding a mess, plops down on the sand a good distance for the water and tugs you into his lap. No matter how many times you’d complained that you’d be too big or that he shouldn’t bother, he’d eagerly pull you into his lap whenever he got the chance.

It was a more intimate position than you were used to in public, though you supposed the deserted beach didn’t have any wondering eyes. Jotaro puts his arms around your waist and grunts, a noise you recognize from when he’s about to say something important.

“I’m not… great, at talking about things,” he starts. You can hear the hesitance in his voice, the fear that he might say something wrong. “But I want you to know that I care.”

You tilt your head back against him as acknowledgement, remaining silent in case there’s more.

“I love you.” It’s so quiet that you barely hear it, only made aware by the rumble of his chest. He’s said it to you before, but it’s hard for him to express it – you understand. “Out here with you… I could stay here forever.”

When you glance up, his cheeks are flushed pink and his eyes are focused on the sea and the sunset above it, reflecting in his aquamarine eyes. It’s a tender admission from Jotaro, and you know that it must have taken a lot for him to say.

“I love you too. Thank you.” You reach up and cup his cheek softly and Jotaro falls into the touch. He sighs and tightens his arms around you, meeting your eyes before looking back to the ocean.

The words are a verbal reassurance that you’re loved – but the comfortable silence between you and Jotaro as you watch the sunset is more than enough to tell you that perhaps the quiet intimacy you share is a reassurance of love, too.

#jjba fanfic #jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #reader insert #fluff #jjba #Diamond is Unbreakable #my writing

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its-moopoint · 5 years ago

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I agree on the weirdness of the 3 marriage references on the podcast (2 “my husband”’s and 1 “I got engaged in BBay”). She tee’d the discussion up herself THREE TIMES so a) How is it off limits? SHE brought it up, b) If it’s not off limits why not, if her husband is indeed TokoPhono who she REALLY wants us to believe she married, just allow the congrats & say “Thanks, my doormat makes the best hubs” &move on or c) If it’s off limits for real, it means she’s hiding who the husband really is. 🤔🤥

ersListen, I understand all this. I really do. It’s messy, it’s hella weird, it doesn’t make sense at all when judged from here. All I know is:

- she was the one having her team send the engagement exclusive to People to be published (no journo innuendo on the BBay beach that we interpreted no), an statement released on GG night were she, Catalina herself, debuted her ring (on her own hand on her own finger, no fan manip there) that she has been wearing ever since. They had Antonio’s name included in the article. Not in quotes yes, but in the same piece.

- Rolando was the one spilling the beans on a wedding taking place 10th August. It wasn’t fan speculation or a rumor. It could have been just that hadn’t the wedding circus actually happened on that same day.

- Antonio’s name appeared on the church’s official website schedule for the booking. Again no rumor, no innuendo no manip, we all saw the freaking (A McG) written there.

- She had her friends and family post accordingly to the event. Travels, trips, party, landscape... and the wedding planner and staff hint enough at the bride.

- Then the pair, Catalina and Antonio show up wearing wedding bands. His and hers.

- Then new company info comes out and she’s changed to Mrs.

- Now she talks in public about her BBay engagement and her husband. She didn’t speak of husband before, she speaks of husband now, after the “wedding”.

So, all in all, if you believe any of it at all then the timeline tells you she got engaged when she said and she got married when she did. Now folks saying she’s speaking about Rolando all the time, that she didn’t use or give Antonio’s name and the church thing was cover for them... fine, where were his people in Somerset? didn’t anyone attend? were they all gagged? You have to have him in Australia for the engagement. Ignoring the journo 7-8 times edited caption and likes of comments mentioning Antonio you have nothing placing Rolando there. A video of sand and water that looks the same everywhere is not proof. A tale about a friend of a friend seeing someone at the lounge without any proof is just a tale. I repeat you have nothing linking Roland to being the fiance or the groom.

But let’s buy it. Let’s go with it. Okay you have them married and hiding...what for??? Why would two 40 year olds be inmersed in this shitty game of hiding and deception?!??! Someone who would lead a fake life to the point of faking all the events I listed above is insane. You throw in a non fraternization clause... alright, in this time and age...but okay, let’s go there. That requires no SC. It doesn’t need +1 or other SO, all you have to do is stay away from each other publicly. You say but they do it to make it more believable...the only ones they would need to fool regarding that are their employers and they shouldn’t care if their leads are single and celibate or fucking 20 different people on the privacy of their homes... my point is that clause in their contract that ends soon would require their being apart, not their building a full sham and entangle themselves in a shitty mess as this one just 2 years prior to its expiring. Folks are waiting for S6 to see if they sign yet a new contract and they remove this “barrier”, so they will be free and come out...with that in mind why the hell elaborate the whole Antonio narrative as husband instead of just make people wonder if they are a couple or not??

Freaking fucking insane all of it.

Sorry but I can’t wrap my mind around it. I can’t understand it.

I apologize anon because I used you ask to let this out, that’s been brewing in my mind the whole day.

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asktheheirofslytherin · 4 years ago

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🦡 anon) Hello Tom /Voldemort , I just wanted to ask you guys about your opinion on bullying since I was a victim for it for a very long time , it's so hard to me to deal with it , some of the reasons was because that my academic grade were nearly always an A , others because they didn't expect from a Hufflepuff to have marks like that , to me a person house doesn't determine there academic grades, one must never judge a book by its cover. (Admin Be safe , from your Hufflepuff friend )

Upon seeing me for what I am now, I find that many people speculate I was a bully in my youth. This is partially false. At Wools, I was bullied as a small child, though it became incredibly hard to catch me, so I did not suffer physical violence at the hands of other children, and I did not preform physical violence in return, even as I grew. My magic retaliated, however, sometimes in gruesome ways I initially could not control. As I grew older, I learned how to control it, how to instill fear in the other children through it. I suppose then yes, you could have considered me a bully starting at around, oh, nine or so; the age around when I learned what I was doing and how to make it so.

This was a habit I did not take with me to Hogwarts. I felt much safer, physically, you see.

In my first and second years, I was teased a fair amount. I was scrawny, underfed, parentless, uneducated in wizard culture and history. Slytherins were more friendly in their teasing in an almost sibling like way, so that was tolerated. Gryffyndors were the worst, followed by the Ravenclaws. To my knowledge, I was never targeted by a Hufflepuff.

Still, it was nothing compared to what I feared at Wools, and while at first I waited for it to worsen, I realized it likely would not. I respected my peers at Hogwarts unlike the children at Wools, so I decided my life simply depended on becoming the absolute best. I studied my way to the top of the class, joined dueling club in second year, and became renowned for my skill at wizard chess. By the start of my third year, I was no longer bullied save for the traditional Gryffindor vs Slytherin conflicts, and I was very well liked indeed.

It was an image I knew I had to preserve, and so I was, in many regards, a very agreeable student. I treated all Slytherins like brothers and sisters, despite my personal feelings for a few. Oh, sure, in my final few years at Hogwarts I made it clear to my group that I was in charge, but it was all very childish compared to how I interact with my followers today. Still, I never used threat of violence - my style in Hogwarts was a veneer of charm and manipulation, seeking people who were useful and plying them with favors and kindness. Is that bullying? I do not think so. No one seemed to notice or resent me for it.

I slipped a few times. Gryffindors brought out the worst in me, though they asked for it, really. I got the Hagrid boy expelled. I dueled a few of them in empty classrooms late at night, and used some hexes I shouldn’t have. A well-placed confundus charm during an exam once, a snide remark in a corridor. I stole a few of their objects, as well, though I stopped that when I became a Prefect. The stakes of being caught too high. Nothing too bad, save the incident with the basilisk. I had only meant to petrify mudbloods, you see, still young and scared to kill outright - Myrtle was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had no quarrel with her.

As for my advice to you. Your marks are admirable, and whilst Hufflepuffs tend to be overlooked, you must be proud of your achievements. People may simply be surprised that a Hufflepuff is in the spotlight, but it does happen. Wasn’t it a Hufflepuff I had to kill in the triwizard tournament? I was astounded when I found out his house. I should not have been, but I fell prey to old stereotypes I suppose.

You seem incredibly useful in many regards. You will have no problem getting by in the world. Your classmates...they may be jealous, or afraid you are making them look bad. They may simply not know how to deal with difference from the standard, and thus feel the need to attempt to hem you in. Do not let them. Instead, gather a few close confidants; you need not make everyone like you. Vet these friends carefully. Hufflepuffs can be too kind and trusting. Then, thrive. Let your success be a bitter taste in the mouths of those who dared oppose you. Seek power, and hold it high.

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wildwhiskey236 · 5 years ago

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Writeblr: Introducting Your WIP

For the anon who asked, here is one way you could introduce your WIP in a way that is concise, clear, and captivating for all of the writeblr community to see and admire. I will talk about how I introduced my WIP and I included an example of how a show I really like introduces/summarizes itself.

Disclaimer: I am not a published or super experienced writer or marketing expert, but this is what I have observed from a writeblr standpoint, reader standpoint, and academic standpoint. If you happened to be an expert at any of those, feel free to point out if I’ve said something stupid!

1. Take a step back

I’m guessing if you want to introduce your WIP to the world, that means you like it, right? You’ve no doubt spent countless hours working on it and you have all these details about plot and characters and setting and worldbuilding. For a summary and introduction, throw all of that out of the window. It is important as a writer that you know all that, but for an audience picking up your book or reading about your WIP the first time, they need only a little bit of information: what, who, where, and why should I care.

2. What

Titles are hard. You could have the best plot in the world with the best characters but if your title isn’t at least a little interesting or stark or eye catching, your success may be limited. I’m not saying the title is the most important thing ever, but no matter how much we say ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ we do exactly that! The cover and title of a book are usually the first thing people see, the title on tumblr and any associated picture(s) you have will be the first thing people see too. So try and think of a catchy title. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you are allowed to change it (it is called a Work In Progress after all) but in introducing it, people are going to read it and make a judgement about whether to keep reading or move on.

Also consider adding a moodboard or edit or some kind of picture. People are drawn to color and images and are more likely to stop and look at your post. A moodboard can also convey the aesthetic or themes in your WIP, which will attract an audience looking for WIPs like that.

3. Who and Where

So you probably have a main character or a few. Just like meeting someone in real life, your reader will only take a few seconds to consider who this character is to see if they care or not. In a lot of book summaries they usually include a name and what makes the character different from your average Joe/Jane. Its the reason they are the main character and deserve so much attention, t should be the reason they are special so that the reader will read it and say, “What does that mean? I’ll have to keep reading.”

The way you do this can also tell the reader more about the genre and setting of your story. In my post, “Cassia was just an apothecary and healer...” says so much already about her and my world. I can tell you that I know of no apothecaries in the 21st Century and no one says healer when we have doctors. It lets the reader know that this is either set in the past or it is fantasy. The last bit of the line ”...for the Heidyll court when the King got sick.” introduces the physical setting. Heidyll is not a real place, believe me I checked before I used the name, and there aren’t too many popular kings in the world today. The combination of my summary and then my moodboard has let the reader know this is a high fantasy WIP, who my character is, and where this takes place.

4. Why should I care?

So you have your title, you have your character, and you’ve let the reader know a bit about your genre or setting, now you have to get them committed to the plot. I think a general rule is to not divulge more information about the plot than what is in your first few chaptes. Looking at your story or narrative arc, you shouldn’t tell the reader anything past the inciting incident.

This should make sense, your inciting incident is the thing that gets your character away from what they have been doing before the story started and starts them on the journey where most of your plot takes place, and in your summary it is the hook that drags the reader along with them. In my summary, I told the reader who Cassia is, why she is special (being accused of being a witch and then becoming one), and then I threw out my hook (the new king is sick and it’s up to her to save him otherwise she’s gonne be killed). Hopefully at that point the person reading my summary cares enough about Cassia and the story that they will keep reading when its done, or on tumblr like it and want to keep up with my progress.

I think those are the key elements to a good summary. Think about a lot of popular shows/books and their summaries- most of them follow this kind of pattern of what to include.

For example:

I really like how Avatar the Last Airbender introduces and summarizes the show:

“Water, Earth, Fire, Air. Long ago the Four Nations lived in harmony,” Right off the the bat with the animation tells you this is a fantasy world with bending and the world is split accordingly.

“Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, Master of all four elements could stop them, but when the world needed him most he vanished.” Important background information that is necessary to draw the the watcher in, it introduces conflict and then introduces the main character, this ‘Avatar’

“100 years past and my brother and I discovered a new Avatar, an airbender named Aang. And although his airbending skills are great, he has a lot to learn before he’s ready to save anyone. But I believe, Aang can save the world.” More background information that is all available in the first episode I might add, and a personal character introduction to Aang and what the show is about. Just all in all a great summary and introduction to the series, and a good example I think of how to write a good summary.

#writing #writing reference #writeblr #summaries #wip introduction #character introduction #this got really long #but I hope it helps someone #and I got to talk about avatar too

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