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gold-rhine · 1 year

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sub!Diluc x Dom! gn! reader

Warnings: very much not safe for w, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, minors get out of here. But also, some unabashed fluff. Yes, it contains multitudes.

words: 3,2k.

A\n: repost since my previous blog got shadowbanned

Listen, i know everyone hcs Diluc as a dom. And he can be a very nice service dom, but I’m here to convince you that sub!Diluc is actually not OOC.

First of all, he’s more repressed than a catholic nun. Diluc is like on six levels of dissociation at any given moment. He sees his body as a flesh suit he’s piloting that requires an inconvenient maintenance like sleep, food and occasional sexual release. He’ll jerk off by himself like it’s a chore.

Diluc is so touch starved it’s ridiculous, and *he doesn’t even know it*, that’s how much he’s disconnected from his needs.

And like. Helping ppl like that discover what they actually want and watching them come undone in pleasure they didn’t know they desired is so delicious. If you know, you know, there’s nothing quite like it.

But you have to go slow with him

I mean first of all, you shouldn’t mess with Diluc at all if you’re not in for a long haul, this man doesn’t do casual.

Oh, he’ll agree to try if he’s already into you, he’s incredibly indulging to the people he values. But also because at first he’ll be incredibly defensive.

Not because he’s not into it. Just as a defense mechanism, as he thinks he’ll disappoint you and he’s preparing for a failure from the start.

Diluc can see any activity with his important people as a trial where his performance will be evaluated. He is one of these “I need to get a good grade in X which is both normal to want and possible to achieve” people.

Remember the coffeeshop event where he was like “When I was a small child, my father told me to mix my first drink using all of the ingredients in the tavern. In hindsight, it was probably to see how creative I am and I must’ve failed because I just made a fruit punch and my father didn’t say if I did well”?

Like, Diluc. Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Your dad probably just wanted you to have fun in an improvised “take your kid to work” event. He didn’t judge your punch because it was about spending quality time together and letting you play with colorful syrups. Who the fuck would evaluate a small child’s creativity on the first time they mix drinks. You think he expected you to invent Pina Colada?

So yeah, he will see even getting edged as a thing he’s not proficient in, so he’s most likely to fail and disappoint you. And that’s one of the worst things he can imagine.

Because being useful is Diluc’s love language. If you read his voicelines or talk to him in teapot, you can notice how he’s very focused on doing things for you, like he’ll invent a drink specifically for you and keeps repeating that you should tell him if you need anything, but at the same time, he “doesn’t do chit chat” and wants to leave if there’s nothing for him to do.

Because Diluc knows he’s not easygoing or fun to be around. He has his charming brother who makes it seem effortless to compare himself with. He knows he’s kind of awkward, intense, brooding and direct to the point of coming off as rude. So he needs to feel like he’s doing something useful for you to justify spending time with you.

So for his first time, don’t tease him verbally. He’s incredibly teasable, I know. But he’s already very anxious about disappointing you even if he tries to hide it and he was conditioned to clamp up at the first sign of perceived mockery by his troll brother. Show him first how good it can feel before you start playing with him.

also, he obviously has a praise kink that he’s not even aware of. like, it’s not even up for discussion, praise from other people and approval from his dad are literally described as his main motivations

“The praise he received from his comrades and citizens spurred him on. But the words of praise he valued most of all were: "Good job. Now, that's my son." His father's words fueled the fire inside his heart and served as his greatest motivation.“ and sure, after he lost his dad and emotionally closed off, he doesn’t allow himself to rely on approval of others. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it.

You can tie his hands, but honestly I think it’s much more fun to just order him to keep his hands up. He’s so stubborn, it’ll be a matter of pride for him to keep his composure. And it will also make it that much more delicious to see it finally break.

When you tell him that he must ask for permission to finish, he just scoffs. He’s so sure he wouldn’t be reduced to that.

Don’t expect him to dissolve into stereotypical meowling and begging when you first start touching him. Again, he’s much too stubborn. He’s coming into this defensive and he wants to be in control of himself.

But hear me out - it actually makes it more fun to tease him. Diluc tries to keep himself still, but no amount of willpower will make him less sensitive and, again, touch starved to hell and back.

So at first, it’s the little things that betray him. How when you kiss his neck, his throat moves under your lips in a shaky intake of a breath, How the taut muscles of his scarred arms flex when you run your hands over his chest. How he draws in his stomach when you slide your fingers down it, slow, tantalizingly slow, making light patterns with just your fingertips. How he avoids your eyes because you haven’t even touched his cock yet and he’s already so obviously, painfully hard.

He has a beautiful cock, big and with a nice curve, and as for all pale redheads, it becomes brilliantly red when aroused. When you finally touch him, slowly stroking it up from the base to the tip, he draws in a breath through the clenched teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. You watch him struggle as you start pumping his dick faster and faster, his jaw clenching, his breath and heartbeat quickening, sweat beads forming on his forehead, his shoulders and hips flinching as he tries to keep himself from arching up and thrusting into your hand.

He’s fighting a losing battle and both of you know it by now. You could break him right here if you wanted. You squeeze and rub the sensitive tip of his cock, and see him open his mouth in a silent, chocked gasp for air. He manages to keep himself from clenching his fists, but his knuckles whiten when he desperately scraps his fingertips against the bedsheets.

But you don’t want him to feel like he lost a fight, it’s not about that, it was never about that. Even shame should feel good. You caress his high, sculpted cheekbones with your thumb, your other hand still on his cock. “‘Luc, look at me.”

He can’t disobey you, but he has to take a deep breath before he can open his eyes. He meets your gaze, anxious. What’s he going to see, mockery over how pathetically quick he’s breaking down? Disappointment for how bad and inexperienced he is at this? Just a cold, severe rejection?

“You look so beautiful, baby,” you tell him quietly and breath catches in his throat, his pupils widening, his cock twitching in your hand. You kiss the trail from his sharp jawline up to his ear, allowing him to turn away. “Do you enjoy this? Do you want me to keep going?" you smile warmly when he whips his head back to look at you and meet his dazed crimson eyes. “I just want you to feel good.”

This reframes the entire scene for him in a one fell swoop, turning it upside down, leaving him disoriented. It wasn’t a challenge that he was losing, or a trial that he was failing, him giving in to his desires was what you wanted all along? You enjoy seeing his pleasure, even if he’s not being useful to you in return? It seems impossible to him, yet when you look at him like this, when you touch him like this, like he’s precious and wanted, when he knows he’s broken and undeserving… it feels intoxicating and liberating at once, in a way he couldn’t imagine before. He realizes at this moment how badly he wants this, even if he still doesn’t understand how far he’s willing to go for it.

“I… ugh, I… like it,” Diluc swallows harshly, his mouth suddenly dry, and if you thought he was blushing before, now the pink dust on his cheeks turns into a brilliant scarlet glow, covering his face, neck and even top of his shoulders. He clearly wants to look away in embarrassment, but makes himself hold your gaze. “If you… enjoy this too and… want to go on…”

You rake your eyes over him, sprawled in front of you, and smile, meeting his gaze again. “Of course I enjoy it. You look so fucking hot like this.” his eyes widen and his lips part, you can feel his tip leaking in your hand, his entire body strung up like a bowstring. He doesn’t know what to answer and he couldn’t talk even if he did, so when you lower your head down to kiss him he answers eagerly, with passion and gratitude he can’t express in words. You start pumping his cock again, now faster and with a firmer grip, and drink in his abrupt gasp against your mouth, as he freezes for a second and then returns the kiss with twice the abandon. This time he doesn’t try to fight it, his body trembling under you, his hips bucking up to meet your hand, his hands closing into fists, toes curling.

He breaks the kiss when you twist your palm against his pulsing tip, and he cries out, low and strangled, his entire body arching up, but his unfocused eyes find yours immediately, his gaze frantic, almost feverish. He’s going far outside his comfort zone, he’s relinquishing control and he’s so unused to this, he trained himself for years to do the opposite of this, to see it as a failure, so he needs your repeated reassurance to soothe his anxiety, to prove he didn’t imagine your desire few moments ago.

You lean down to him without breaking eye contact. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re being so good for me.”

It shoots through him, bypassing the brain entirely, through the entire nerve system and right down to the cock, like only discovering a kink you were entirely oblivious to before can. His body goes rigid and he comes, with a choked, shuddering groan.

You stroke him through it, until he limply falls back on the bed, spent and panting. He reaches for you and you let him pull you in, hold him while he’s coming back to his senses, run fingers through his soft hair. When he opens his eyes, he looks at you with a small, almost sheepish smile, and it’s impossible to resist kissing him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, stroking his cheek and he leans into your palm.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answers immediately, then realizes how it sounds and tries to correct. “I mean, I’m better than fine. I’m... I feel good.”

You chuckle and his eyes flicker to watch your mouth, then throw you a glance from under half-lowered lids. It’s enjoyable seeing him open like this, but what you really want is seeing him come undone. He doesn’t look tired and you know he can go on for much longer, but today it’s more a question of mental state than stamina.

“You want to go for another round?” you ask softly him and he blushes lightly.

“Well, I did technically… um, break a promise to ask for permission in the end,” he says with the same small smile that grows even more sheepish as he tries to avoid admitting he desperately wants more. “So it’s only fair if I remedy that.”

“Oh, of course. Honorable as always. So noble of you, Master Diluc,” you run your fingers over his abs, spreading cum all over them, and his brilliant blush returns in full force. But he doesn’t stop smiling, trusting your good intentions, that you’re mocking the hierarchy of ranks and not him personally. You kiss the corner of his mouth to reassure him, and his smile grows wider.

“Well, you can’t be successful in the commercial trade if you’re not answering for your obligations,” he says, trying and failing to keep a straight face. He really does recover very quickly, you think, if he can already banter. “The Wine Guild would kick me out if they learned I’d backed down on a deal.”

“Well, at least I know I can complain to the Wine Guild if you misbehave then,” your voice is still light, but you catch his chin and lift it up firmly, and he tenses up immediately.

He looks up at you, eyes intense as always, but now glittering in anticipation and tracking your every move, bangs tousled and lips parted for you to claim. You kiss him, messily, greedily, slide your fingers to the back of his head and pull on his hair, forcing him to expose his throat for you. You leave the trail of sloppy kisses and scraped teeth down from his jaw to the collarbones before you let go of his hair and allow him to collapse.

When your hand finds his cock, it’s already half-hard, throbbing. red. This time, you don’t go slowly, you grab it and start pumping it fast. He shudders, still so sensitive after a recent orgasm, and instinctively tries to close his legs.

You don’t force them open, instead, you catch his chin and meet his eyes again. “No,” you say slowly. “Open up for me.”

The thing about Diluc is that he doesn’t do anything by halves if he sets his mind to it. Once he opens up, he burns for you with the same single-minded dedication as he does fighting enemies in the night. He might not know how to ask for help, pleasure or affection, but he sure knows how to give and to give everything he’s got. Do not ask to have him if you want anything less than the whole.

He grits his teeth, his eyes smoldering crimson, and forces himself to spread his legs again, against his basic reflexes. The touch to his overstimulated dick is painful and igniting at the same time, it feels equal parts wrecking and delightful.

You smile and praise him and pump him even harder and faster than before, and he trashes in front of you, muttering a litany of half-choked curses, throwing his head from side to side, hands clawing at the sheets, thighs shaking, but staying open.

You asked for him and you shall have him, no matter what.

It’s still not enough for you, though.

You sprawl on your side against him, circling one arm around his shoulders, still stroking him with the other. The fight goes out of him. He blindly leans into you, trembling, a small whine caught in his throat. When you kiss him, his mouth is soft and pliant, but his hands clutch at you desperately, like a drowning man trying to hold on to the solid ground.

It drives you crazy to watch him writhe under you, completely unravelled, glowing brightly from feverish desire, scarlet silk of his tangled hair sprawled on the sheets, his hips bucking frantically into your hand.

You whisper sweet, tender praises to him, caress his face, neck and shoulders like he’s the most precious and fragile thing in the world, at the same time as your other hand relentlessly winds him up, squeezes his overstimulated, pulsing cock harshly, twists the leaking tip. The pain punctuates desire, a delirious contrast of torturously sweet and deliciously cruel.

His fingers dig into you, holding you close. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, clings to you, seeking comfort and shelter from the same sweet, unbearable torture that is also inflicted by you. The pleasure melts him, but the pain splits him open, wrecks him to the core, he wants this to end, and he wants this to never stop. More than anything, he wants to be yours.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re perfect,” you tell him and you mean it.

He breathes in through his mouth, drawing in your scent. “Please,” he gasps so quietly, you could’ve missed it if not for his lips moving against your neck. “Please, let me…please…”

Next time, you might demand more. Next time, you might make him spell it out completely, what exactly he begs you for. But this is his first time and he was already so brave for you.

“Yes, baby. You’ve been so fucking good. Come for me.”

He comes immediately and so hard, his entire body is shaking, the strangled scream caught in his throat. You keep stroking him, letting him ride it out through increasingly frantic and desperate thrusts, squeeze every last drop out of him until he collapses, limp and shivering, but still clinging to you.

You hold him, stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, whisper to him softly until he stops trembling and his breath evens out. You realize that he’s too weak now to get to the bath, so you stand up to get something to help, but he reaches out, catches your wrist immediately.

“It’s okay, I’ll be back in a second,” you promise. After you clean him up with a wet cloth, he pulls you in and curls around you so possessively and needy, you can’t help but smile. He’s fighting a losing battle to stay awake, the endless sleepless nights finally catching up with him, now that he lowered his guard for a moment and let his body feel alive. But there’s one thing he needs to ask, suddenly apprehensive now that the rush of lust passed.

“Did you… Was I… Ugh, damn. Would you perhaps?..” he stumbles over his words, not knowing how to phrase his concern that he wasn’t good enough for you and you just indulged him. You stop him mercifully.

“I *did* enjoy it. You *were* incredible. And yes, I would very much love to do this again.”

“Oh,” he says, relaxing against you, the same precious small smile appearing on his face again, now more content than sheepish. You chuckle, stroking his face.

“Besides, you did break my order to keep your hands up. You’ll have to suffer the punishment, or the Wine Guild will need to hear about this.”

He snorts indignantly and blushes at the same time. For the first time in many, many nights he falls asleep with a light heart and a smile still tugging at his lips.

#rhine writes filth #rhine writes #genshin impact smut #sub genshin #sub diluc #dom reader #diluc

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messiahzzz · 2 months

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oc meme

tagged by: @galedekarios. thank uu hun 💕

B A S I C S

- Full name: Caoimhee ("beloved, gentle, kind, graceful") Laira (“soul, spirit, light”) Thirfaen (“wandering, drifting”). Previously Ahren (“mountain of strength”)-Sgéin (“achiever of greatness”) - Gender: Female - Sexuality: Demi/Pansexual - Pronouns: She/her

O T H E R

- Family: Ahren-Sgéin, farmers and merchants -> Father: Eduard Sgéin -> Mother: Julianna Ahren -> Adoptive Mother/Caretaker: Rauha Thirfaen - Birthplace: Greenest - Job: Archivist - Records management + Preservation - Phobias: Athazagoraphobia, Catagelophobia, Cleithrophobia, Phonophobia - particularly the sound of marbles - Guilty pleasures: Coming up with new culinary atrocities, poofy dresses, word scrambles, murder mysteries & trashy novels (less guilty on the last one) - Hobbies: Reading/writing, history, poetry, collecting, arts & crafts (quilling, embroidery, jewelry making, sculpturing)

M O R A L S

- Alignment: Neutral Good - Sins: Sloth, Envy - Virtues: Prudence, Humility, Reliability, Compassion

T H I S O R T H A T

- Introvert / Extrovert - Organized / Disorganized (on both ends of the spectrum simultaneously) - Close-minded / Open-minded - Calm / Anxious / Restless - Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between - Cautious / Reckless / In between - Patient / Impatient / In between - Outspoken / Reserved / In between - Leader / Follower / Flexible - Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between - Optimist / Pessimist / Realist - Traditional / Modern / In between - Hard-working / Lazy (she contains multitudes)

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

- OTP: Gale/Caoimhee — Best friends. Birds of a Feather. Soulmates. - Acceptable Ships: None - OT3: None - Brotp: Yes -> Karlach/Caoimhee — Caoimhee is the yin to Karlach’s yang, they balance each other out perfectly. Caoimhee relishes in Karlach’s impulsivity, go-getter attitude, and particular brand of chaos, while her rational and reflective input helps Karlach with navigating her restlessness and staying grounded. Both are very protective of each other. -> Shadowheart/Caoimhee — They relate to each other on a deep level, even with differing circumstances. Caoimhee greatly appreciates Shadowheart’s snark and dry humor, as well as the kind heart underneath. While Shadowheart is pleasantly surprised by Caoimhee’s patience and understanding, deeming her a calming and trustworthy presence. They continue to seek each other out for advice. - Notp: Any combination that isn’t Gale/Caoimhee

tagging: @promakodriver, @say-lene, @ra-scheln, @senualothbrok, @dreamingofthewild, @villainanders, @laserlope, @eilistraaee, @tinleafart, @leofrith and anyone else who wants to do this!

#bg3 #oc content #oc meme #caoimhee thirfaen #i took the liberty of going through my followers and adding everyone whose ocs i’m personally super curious/know nothing abt #pls let me know if you want to be removed from the mentions and i'll do so immediately <3 #(except promakodriver. u have do to this)#in the same sense: if you want to be added to these in the future let me know as well #it speaks

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palfriendpatine66 · 7 months

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Writing Obi-Wan I got an amazing ask that has prompted your Pal to go on several rants so I’m breaking it into parts for readability.

An anon new to writing fanfic asked about characterizing Obi-Wan. They asked about his most important traits to include to really nail his characterization and most importantly:

"In particular, I'm confused about reconciling the (chaotic, dramatic, 10/10) Clone Wars happenings with the way he appears in some other stories (more, well, civilized)."

Well anon: ask and you shall receive. Find your pal’s beginner's thesis below, keeping in mind that there are many others in the fandom who are way more accomplished authors who are much better about characterization in their own works and are way more qualified to speak to this. I'm going to do my best!

I love this ask! Characterization is so important in fan fic as we take familiar characters in place them into different scenarios that we haven’t seen how they react and respond to, and yet want it to feel authentic. The best is when you read a chapter and think of course that’s how Obi-Wan would deal with this.

The first part to nailing characterization is voice. Not even the motivation aspects behind “he would not fucking say that” but I literally ask myself: can I imagine the character’s voice actually saying these things? If I can’t hear Ewan McGregor’s Obi-Wan in my mind speaking the lines of dialogue I’ve written, I know it’s not right. This isn’t something specific I could give you a How To on, it’s 100% based on vibe and feel, BUT. Listen to the dialogue in the movies/tcw/kenobi series. The words he uses, his cadence, his tone. Even if he's being written in an alternate universe speaking about something that canon Obi-Wan has never experienced, and never will, it should still *sound* like him. If I had to summarize his voice: civilized yes, and more mature or refined than Anakin’s speech patterns, but with the ever present threat of sass. Underlying almost everything he says is a sense of I can and will destroy you if you piss me off, so tread lightly.

That brings me to your point of reconciling the different parts of Obi-Wan. There’s a line in Stover’s novelization of Revenge of the Sith which (I'm paraphrasing) says: he’s a Jedi Master who deep down still feels like a padawan. To me, this is why he can be the cool, calm logical Jedi Master one moment and then impulsively launching himself out of windows to hang from a speeding droid the next.

He is the expert of Fake it Till You Make It. He was suddenly thrust into all these roles of responsibility before he was prepared for them, but has taken them on and is Doing His Best. He literally went from being a padawan to having a padawan overnight. He had no time to experience being responsible for himself before he was responsible for someone else. He’s the youngest member on the council and despite, you know, not being trained in the military he is like The Highest Ranking Jedi and in command of a frighteningly huge portion of the GAR. He *is* incredibly competent and good at what he does, but he feels like its a role he's acting. He is playing the part of the wise Jedi, modeling himself after everyone he respects and looks up to and thinks is doing a better job than himself, when a lot of times his personal instinct isn't to react with measured patience but rather Yeet! or Read This Bitch!

Always remember: this man contains multitudes. There is no One Right take on his personality. That’s why he’s so fun to write! And also why there’s so many different versions of Obi-Wan in fan fic, and yet most are able to feel right if they hit the voice. Authors lean into the different sides of Obi-Wan they want to bring out. Some are more into his Big Dick Energy, being a BAMF, having the answers, and being in control General Kenobi. Some relate to the more the anxious padawan desperate to prove himself. Some see the man tossing back shots in the Outlander and think to themselves “this ho has slept with half of Coruscant”. Any and all of these can feel true to the character when done from a place of love and understanding for our main man Obi-Wan Kenobi

#ask me anything!#thanks for the ask #writing things #i'm just out here trying my best #your pal's lecture series

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arkipelagic · 2 months

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Japanese attempts at invading early Spanish colonial-era Philippines

The earliest written mention of fears of a Japanese invasion in the broadest sense of the word appears in a Memorial to the Council of 1586, in which there is speculation within Manila that the Japanese wakō [i.e. pirate gangs] might have greater ambitions beyond mere plunder: they "make a descent almost every year, and, it is said, with the intent of colonizing Luçon [Luzon]." That never happened, but in 1591 the first proper invasion scare began when the Philippines entered the consciousness of Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536-98). By means of a series of brilliant military campaigns, Hideyoshi had reunified Japan after the chaos of a century of civil war, and he now set his mind on overseas expeditions.

… Farandaquiemon was a Japanese Christian merchant from Sakai called Harada Kiemon. He had visited Manila on several occasions, most recently in 1591, and, having looked at its defences, he returned to Japan convinced that the city could be taken easily. Together with his colleague Hasegawa Sonin, described as a "court favourite," Kiemon persuaded Hideyoshi to write his arrogant letter to the governor of the Philippines. Hideyoshi's military strength and his unification of Japan had become known in Manila, so the bombastic letter begins with a reference to these military triumphs and his miraculous birth that had augured Hideyoshi's destiny to rule other nations. The threats appeared later in the missive: "If an ambassador is not sent, I shall unfurl my banner and send an army against that country to conquer it with a multitude of men; so that that country will repent at not having sent me an ambassador."

The Spanish sent back a reply dated 1 May 1592 that was delivered to Hideyoshi by the Dominican friar Juan Cobo. Cobo traveled to Japan with a Chinese Christian called Antonio López, who appears to have been sent as a spy. Cobo and López met Hideyoshi at Nagoya Castle, the military base in Kyushu built for the invasion of Korea.

… On 1 June 1593, López was questioned closely under oath about what he had seen and done in Japan, with most of the questions relating to his knowledge of any Japanese plans for an attack on the Philippines. López said first that he had heard that Hideyoshi had entrusted the conquest to "Kunquyn," which probably refers to Harada Kiemon. There was also a possible motive, because "[i]n Japon there is universal talk of the abundance of gold in this land. On this account, the soldiers are anxious to come here; and are coming, as they do not care to go to Core [Korea], which is a poor country." López also stated that the Japanese had interrogated him about the military strength of the Philippines. He seems to have tried misinformation on that point, even though his initial reply had caused some arrogant amusement: "The [Japanese] laughed when they heard Antonio say that these islands contained four or five thousand Spaniards. They said that the defense of these islands was merely a matter for jest, for one hundred of the Japanese were worth two or three hundred of us."

Lopez … also had overheard the Japanese discussing the likelihood of the Philippines being reinforced when under attack. "[F]our months are needed to go from Mexico to Luçon," said López, "and on this account but few soldiers could come from Mexico. Japan is not more than twenty days' journey distant, and therefore it would be well for us to appreciate this fact." In terms of Harada Kiemon’s personal ambitions, everyone López had met believed that when the Philippines were conquered he would become the governor.

Excerpt from Wars and Rumors of Wars: Japanese Plans to Invade the Philippines, 1593–1637 by Stephen Turnbull, published in 2016

#japan #philippines #asian history #military history #history #east asia #southeast asia #spanish colonialism #x #luzon

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st0rmyskies · 5 months

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For that latest fanfic game you posted

24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?

When I write a given story, I like to choose the POV of the character who knows the least about their circumstances. Let's learn about all the skeletons in HSH Time's closet from Twilight's anxious POV. Let's uncover the horrors lurking in the Thyphlo Ruins through a questionably-conscious poly!Sky. When writing smut especially I tend to shift POV a few times depending on what sensations or feelings I want to focus on in a given scene. Basically, whatever's the most juicy is where I gravitate.

I got 35 already, so I'm choosing 38. What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

This one's a tie. LMTCOY, especially in the beginning, was a MASSIVE self-indulgence of "let's throw these bastards together in a bedroom, dial up the tension, and shake 'em like a pringles can." The pairings were half-crack in the beginning, and then the relationships began to grow on me -- yes, even Twark.

The omega!Sky series is my current ridiculous self-indulgence. It's absolutely my mental potato chips that I can write thousands of words for without thinking about it too hard. I can slot any trope in there with ease -- unrequited love, hurt/comfort, filthy oneshot -- and it always works. The verse itself is also rife with opportunities for miscommunication which are my absolute favorite to explore.

41. Whose your favorite character you've written?

Absolutely and will always be HSH Time. He's my most well-rounded wet cat of a middle-aged man. Honorable mentions for:

LMTCOY Warriors, who is so damaged and toxic that only coupling with a known killer could fix him.

HSH Champion, who contains multitudes that y'all know nothing about yet.

o!Wild, we love him being a playful, shameless hoe. Also in my most recent self-indulgent WIP, he reverts to being a feral cat and that's even MORE fun to write.

LMTCOY/HSH Dark, because look at him.

poly!Twilight, who is so much softer and tender-hearted than he lets on.

#thanks for the ask Steg!#stormy asks #ask game

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finchwrites · 3 months

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Hi! I'm Finch! I'm a writer of fiction, primarily queer fantasy. I'll post things I've written here, but I also reblog a lot of tips, resources, and other people's work! I am more than open to tag games as long as you are open to me forgetting about them and posting them late, haha.

Here's a rundown of my main WIPs:

Project: The Rubicon, est. 2012

modern urban fantasy, supernatural, horror elements

Peter Alvarez leaves New York for the South in search of the best friend who he thought committed suicide years ago. What he finds instead is more than he bargained for: a landlord who befriends him in unexpected ways, a coworker who hates him on sight for no reason, a boss who gives him more chances than he deserves, and the ghost that brought them all together.

Peter Alvarez, 26, he/him, lost in life since his best friend died, dependent on everyone around him as he refuses to move on.

Carmen Oliveira, 24, she/her, a barista at the cafe Peter begins to work at, nice to everyone but him for reasons he doesn't understand.

Chase Greenwood, 27, he/him, owner of the small cafe they work at, willing to help but not to get too close.

Elliot Bingham, 27, he/him, high school friend of Chase and Peter's landlord, contains multitudes.

Noah Bryant, 19 now then and forever, a ghost

Project: The Stewniverse, est. 2019

high fantasy original setting

Stewie has a wonderful family, a stable lifestyle in the town he grew up in, and should have no complaints… and yet, he’s always been anxious and restless and could never understand why. After a close encounter with life-threatening danger, his mother, a retired adventurer, finally relents and passes on her sword to him. Stewie sets off to solve all the problems of the world that he possibly can with nothing more than his mother’s sword and his loyal horse, Ser Decadence. Along the way he finds companions he never expected, along with a mystery that only seems to get more twisted and complicated the more clues they find.

Steward Knight, 19, he/him, human, the anxious son of a retired adventurer who wants to fix the world in the hopes that it will fix him.

Kieran, 26, he/him, a mysterious half-elven man with an even more mysterious quest: to help fae wherever he finds them. He seems to resent this, but does it all the same.

Rishi, 22, she/her, an elven student of magic at the most prestigious arcane college on the continent, unable (or unwilling?) to cast any spells.

Evelyn, 20, he/they, Kieran’s half-elven younger brother who is set on killing Kieran for a crime he won’t specify and who claims he is prevented from doing this only by the fact that he cares about Stewie and Stewie cares about Kieran.

Ashe, around his mid to late 20s in mortal years, he/it, a kelpie who has attached himself to Kieran and Stewie for reasons unknown and has vowed to never leave their side.

Lottie, 23, she/her, a human bard, accomplished heartbreaker, and lover of animals who grew up with Kieran and Evelyn and is constantly putting her own problems aside to mediate between the two conflicting brothers.

Selkies is a short story I wrote for a fiction class

The Pale Demon of Hollowbrook is a chapter excerpt from either NaNo 20 or NaNo 22.

Project: Lilywood, est. 2022

modern urban fantasy, supernatural, horror elements

a haunted house time travel mystery

Canary has never felt like she belongs anywhere, even in her hometown of Lilywood, the town that accepts all stragglers, outcasts, and loners. Her only friends are fellow burnouts Ryan Shuck and Jamie Yamashita. When construction on the historic manor at the heart of Lilywood goes awry, they are pulled into a supernatural mystery surrounding the house that spans across centuries, hoping that it will answer the burning question each of them have had their whole life: who am I?

Canary Spencer, 21, she/they, a deeply insecure young adult trying to figure out who she is and how to be comfortable with being true to herself while exploring a house haunted by time.

Ryan Shuck, 23, he/they, an avoidant young adult who feels trapped by his circumstances and is scared of things changing even as his previously normal and ordinary life begins to turn upside down around him.

Jamie Yamashita, 25, he/him, a loud and cocky young man who rushes headfirst into the mystery of Lilywood Manor with more confidence than is warranted for someone who has no experience with the supernatural.

Project: Forget Me Not, est. 2024

modern vampire fantasy, romance, horror elements

a human afraid of dying and a vampire who would rather die than live forever

chronic illness, dementia, death, grief, dysphoria

Dana Hardy, 26, he/him, a young adult who has been terrified of aging ever since he watched his grandfather succumb to dementia and death. He learned about the understudied progressive illness Vampirism and is obsessed with contracting it

Wade Cameron, 24, he/him, a young trans man who has recently been diagnosed with vampirism. He's horrified at the thought that his body will stay the same forever and he'll never change or die. He wants nothing more than to find a cure.

#writerblr #writers of tumblr #pinned #project: the rubicon #project: stewniverse #project: lilywood

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firewalkzwit · 11 months

Text

peace of mind // miguel o'hara x reader (2)

this is so mid but i lost everything mid work so this is a rewrite lacking some stuff from the og i also reiterate that english is not my first language and while im fluent at it, grammatical mistakes are bound to appear i hope u can bare w me :>

Masterlist

AO3 parallel

summary: In the eve of 2050, Spider-Woman is New York’s vigilante trying to maintain order in a revolting society, soon to collapse. The only reason to keep going is the hope for change, as the darkest hour is just before the dawn, but an unexpected turn of events will result in more than just New York to watch over.

(Contains some elements and references I gathered off other pieces of media to inspire the universe and, vaguely, the character.)

word count: 2.2k

Chapter 2

The least amusing part of her work was certainly the one where she had to serve hours of desk work on her computer in order to earn enough to sustain herself. While economically she wasn't in trouble, it was incredibly monotonous, and even if she was thankful that the era of office work was long deceased for minor employees like her, working from home was just as unstimulating. It was in fact hard to find anything stimulating when it contrasted heavily with the adrenaline rush of being Spider-Woman, and performing tasks that demanded the full capacity of all her senses. Even if she had reached a point where most of her vigilante work was also easier and eventually somewhat routinary, she had lately began to feel the excitement of being Spider-Woman again, which only turned up when she had a match in battle or simply something to feed her never-ending desire for mental exercise. The white entity from a day ago had disappeared from her radar leaving no trace, and she was only hoping it would turn up again in the shape of some conflict. Naturally, being Spider-Woman had taught her that supernatural beings tend to not like to settle, and consider such thing to be very human, so some ruckus was expected to happen and she was just waiting for it to call for her. This drive made her especially anxious to leave as soon as her senses warned her of commotion, getting rapidly geared up and shooting herself out the window with impressive speed. For someone in such a big and cramped city, one needs special agility and sense of reflex to get by, and with time she had learnt to master it, swiftly swinging through the crowd and swinging over and under the spiraling lanes that contorted around and across themselves like dozens of snail staircases. She jumped and swung moving further from urbanization and into the more open and spacious region of the city, filled with corporative colossal buildings. As her senses guided her through the turmoil of thousands of cars and the roaring sounds of the urbanization beneath it, she slowly descended onto walkable fields, pulling her hood back up to blend with the multitude. There was a growing commotion that manifested itself in the shape of agitated people walking with no sense of direction and tumult building up, which she tried to catch on to using her sharpened senses. A peculiar looking clairvoyant shook her hands in circular motion summoning a forming group of people around her as she chanted a warning "¡El hoyo en el cielo simboliza el fin de los tiempos!"* The concerning prophecy provoked her to quickly look up and eventually detect the cause of horror in the crowd. Just as the divination stated, multiple black holes that seemed to only take whoever dared to enter them into infinite void, contorted opening and closing several gaps of dimensional warping in the sky. She used her webs to jump onto a light post to catch a better glimpse of the anomalies, soon detecting just what she was expecting; the white entity jumping in and out of the hollow like it was completely casual.

"Can those swallow you into eternal void?" Spider-Woman asked ironically as she jumped up onto the crown of a large and rusty hologram propaganda projector, trying to jump towards the nearest building in the hopes of crawling upwards to see clearly, however once she initiated her motion, she was met with an unexpected appearance of one of the black holes which consumed her into miliseconds of nothing but emptiness, before quickly opening back up like a portal, where she was met with a feisty kick in the face that sent her down on a rapid fall. She used her webs to grab onto the nearest surface that would aid her at dodging the impact, and once again fleeted back onto the top of the projector, crouching on it with her hands on the floor. "They can swallow you into eternal void, but they can also take you places. Was about time you showed up, Spider-Man." Behind her mask her brows furrowed into a frown of confusion, as far as she was concerned there was nothing masculine of her appearance. "Okay, rude.. But I gathered by your lack of a face that it might be difficult to see." As she tried to muster up the courage to retry her jump, having in front of her the clear possibility of another risky failure, a hole popped in front of her and the creature came out of it like a mole.

She finally was able to get a clear view of it, and not wasting too much time on staring at it, she attempted to strike a punch, which only ended up in half of her forearm being sucked into the abyss of a big black spot in the creature's face. What she thought at first were black spots around it's body were in reality multiple black holes such as the ones it opened in the sky. The hole pushed her out like a spit, causing her to fall on her back. "I haven't even introduced myself and you're already trying to punch me." She scoffed while getting back in a defensive possition, which camouflaged how puzzled she was at how to face a villain like that. "I mean you did kick me in the face first, so I owe you that." What only seemed like a painfully artificial laugh on it's behalf soon turned into silence before another hole opened in the gap between them. The white creature's arm popped out of it in an attempt to punch her, which she rapidly dodged catching it's wrist with a web to jump into the hole and meet it right in the beginning of the new one, finally being able to strike an offensive. She rapidly jumped back to the projector. "Ouch. I take it you're the Spider-Girl, Spider-Woman.. Spider-Whatever of your dimension." She nodded in a grin taking pride in the recognition of her image, but soon enough as she tried to take a step forward, she fell into another hole which only took her to another freefall that she saved herself from by swinging on a light post and immediately jumping onto the roof of a smaller building. As she launched a web into the hole it was jumping in, she was able to latch onto it's back and pull the creature out of it and by consequence, on top of her. Continuing to make attempts to catch the entity, which ended in her hardly being able to punch it a few times, she threw a web into one of the hollow dark gaps opened by the creature, soon ending up hitting her on the head instead as it opened it's continuation in front of her, sending her down to the ground violently. "Listen, I know it's your job to save the city and all that, but if you make this easier for us I will trully get rolling from this dimension as soon as you let me. Trust me I have no intentions of staying... here." The creature hopped onto another hole and continued to form a staircase of the anomalies towards one of the big windows on the skyscraper next to them.

"Why would it go there?" She mumbled to herself as she thought of a way to filter herself in. Soon enough, it was giveaway thanks to the giant Alchemax sign which projected itself in a giant hologram; dimensional warping, dimensions, Alchemax. Whatever that mysterious figure was up to couldn't be no good. She squirmed, releasing herself from her own webs before securing a strong grip of webs against the windows of the skyscraper. She jumped, propelled by all the strength she could give to her legs. She possitioned herself to be ready to kick the thick glass into shattering, which resulted in a painful fall, rolling in the cold ground of the office. The tumult caused by the spotted being's unconventional entrance seemed to only become graver as it moved closer to the collider. Spider-Woman slided on tables and webbed herself to any surface that could help her move faster, but her attempts of catching the figure were quite useless, as it seemed to flawlessly master the use of it's holes to move around the space and dodge her webs. A sudden noise that could only be described as the distortion of the sound field itched her to look back through the corner of her eye, only to divise the formation of another hole of dazzling warm colors which distorted the ones around it. Both her and the spotted being had interrupted their battle to observe the phenomenon, which she could only hope was just as unexpected to the creature as it was was to her.

From inside of it jumped a dark silhouette which ejected neon ropes that seemed to play a role similar to her webs, attempting to reach the hole where the creature was in to catch it. "Careful with that-" She witnessed the new guy commit the exact same mistake as she did, meeting the same painful fate of a sudden and unexpected strike in the head. Her face contorted into a painful frown, as she ran towards them. The spotted entity soon warped another hole into the office next to them, locking itself within it by activating a large veil of hologramic particles that prevented their entrance. Ridding itself from all the scientists inside it using it's holes, she made unsuccessful attempts of breaking the barrier, with the help of the guy who had just jumped out of what she supposed was another interdimensional hole. "Look, I know this is a bad time to introduce eachother, but I have no idea who you are or why you came out of that hole, and maybe you know why we're fighting this-" Her beginning of a sentence was abruptly interrupted by the man beside her, masked by a suit quite similar to her's. "The Spot, he's getting away!" Spider-Woman only gathered from that rude cut-off that whatever that white entity was, his name was Spot, and by the vicious nature of the strikes the mysterious guy was uselessly giving to the hologram curtain, she assumed the initiation of the collider, which was an extreme liability to her city, was also risking wherever he came from.

The collider had been used before, but was still in a testing field, and was of extreme danger especially if used by potential villains, but that's just stating the obvious. Now clearly to these guys there was no need of a collider to move around through dimensions, at least for the mysterious one with the neon webs. Spot seemed to have the capacity of creating gaps in the dimension he's in to move around where he pleased, but he seemed to need a collider to move accross them, probably indicating that he was not from her's. The other guy however seemed to be able to do this without the need of a giant collider. People from her universe had been trying to grasp the concept of interdimensional travelling for about ten years, and as far as she knew, it was plausible and possibly confirmed that there existed other Brooklyns with other Spider-Women in charge of saving the city simultaneous to her timeline, however it was hard to grasp that they could be male, or could jump into her dimension unanounced.

The Spider-Man sat defeated on the floor before an audible groan of rage, punching into the floor. Spider-Woman walked into the once locked office where Spot activated the collider, the sequence had carried out effectively and without major harm, while it did impact the surroundings, the building seemed to be safe. She turned to see the mysterious Spider-Man looking guy kneeled on the floor, and walked towards him to check on him and make a new attempt at introducing herself. "Hey, can we try that again? This jumping out of interdimensional holes is kind of new to me.." She looked down at him, her hands resting her on her waist. He stood up and the gadget on his arm displayed a hologram. "LYLA, scan the damage." The AI performed a sequence of sounds before replying; "Just some collateral damages on the building, canon remains intact." The man sighed before putting down his arm, the AI disappearing into the watch.

"My name is Miguel O'hara, I am Spider-Man, from another dimension..." She scratched the back of her neck before pointing at him, who was about to start explaining to her the concept of other dimensions before being interrupted by her. "Yeah, I gathered that. How did you even...? You know..." Her hands attempted to gesture how he jumped out of a strange gap in space and time like it was nothing. "Here we need that collider over there to do that." He was not paying much attention to her, but rather invested in scanning and reading data off his watch's yellow projections of a hologram. "It's complicated. Listen, that man who just activated your collider is a threat to time and space and all it's dimensions, including yours and mine." As he spoke, the gizmo on his wrist re-opened the portal from which he had come out of earlier. He began walking on it's direction, turning to toss her a gadget like his. "There's a lot to explain, we'll talk on the way."

*The hole in the sky symbolizes the end of times.

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #atsv #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #angst #slowburn #friends to lovers

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whiteknifesmile · 6 months

Text

Tikki rubbed her little paw hand over Marinette’s knuckles, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay. You’ve done really good, Marinette, so good. Master Fu couldn’t have picked better or done any better himself! It’s just this situation is getting untenable like this, without any support or guidance. You’ve done so good and it’s just temporary until we either settle or the order steps in properly. It’s going to be okay.”

Marinette sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “… thanks, Tikki.” She lights the last candle. “Does the circle look okay? I tried to get a perfect round shape… and the markings are alright? Some of the runes looked really similar to each other…”

“They look perfect. I can feel it, this will work. You did amazing,” Tikki murmured, nuzzling Marinette’s hand and then taking her place in the center of the circle. “Ready?”

Sitting back on her heels, Marinette lets out an exhausted and overwhelmed breath. Her eyes are shadowed with dark circles, her hair a mess only managed by Ladybug magics, but when she opens her eyes, they’re filled with that fiery determination that has had her finding the most Rube Goldberg way to defeat an Akuma. Come hell or high water ( and both have come because of an Akuma!), Marinette could find a solution.

“I’m ready, Tikki.”

The little god nodded and then began to glow a soft pink. The light filled the pen markings on the floor, turning from black ink to pink light. It seeped outwards toward the edge of the circle- Marinette watched it encircle her own little ‘bubble’ on the edge of the ring where she sat. Then she focused her eyes on the bubble opposite hers, a matching pair, though that one was empty save for the Ladybug earrings… for now, anyway.

It felt strange to not be wearing the earrings. Tikki had coached her not to think of it as ‘giving up’ the earrings, but just Not Wearing them at the moment. After all, was she ‘giving up’ her trademark pink jeans when she put on pajamas pants for the night? No no, she was just Not Wearing them for a certain situation, that being bedtime.

She was not giving up the Miraculous. She was not giving up on being Ladybug. She was just not wearing the earrings right now, because this was a situation where it wasn’t appropriate at this time. Soon, the situation would change and she could undo this ritual.

“Think about being Ladybug. What inspired you to become a hero, who keeps inspiring you everyday, the people you’ve saved, the people who need your help, and think about what it means to be Ladybug.”

Marinette closed her eyes to Tikki’s voice, drawing something deep inside of her. At first, she only tried to think of the ‘good traits’ she though were associated with being Ladybug, like her courage and cleverness, and not her panic and fear when things started to happen quickly.

“You’re brave. It doesn’t mean you’re not scared, Marinette, or worried or nervous about people getting hurt. If you weren’t scared or worried about them, then you wouldn’t care so much about protecting them. Even with the ladybug powers to undo the damages, you always do your best to mitigate harm. It’s important to think of both emotions- you are worried for them, you’re determined to do your best to help them, you’re so brave to face off danger for them, and you feel pride at a job well-done, your cleverness showing the way. Ladybug is a hero but she’s also you; you contain multitudes.”

A deep breath in, and out. Tikki was right. If Ladybug was just made out of confidence and cleverness, she’d be too arrogant and haughty to try and clear civilians from danger zones, to comfort Akuma victims after releasing the butterflies. Ladybug wasn’t just one thing, she was everything in Marinette brought to the surface.

Tikki was the goddess of creation; though her form may be tiny and her power limited to the Ladybug miraculous, with a powerful holder she could do wondrous things.

Marinette had always been an anxious child and her parents had taught her a few tricks to improve her self-worth and confidence. Marinette was so hard on herself yet so forgiving and compassionate for others, so her parents had suggested to think of herself as a separate person that she was helping. There was a lot of ways her parents did this in their daily lives, to meal prepping ready-to-go meals for a busy day ahead, to setting up their stations the night before so they arrived to clean workbenches and kitchens in the mornings, to giving themselves grace in terms of breaks in their workdays and catering. Just because they were their own boss didn’t mean they didn’t get any lunch breaks or time to sit a moment. If they would give one of their employees grace, allow them a break to sit and eat, drink water, how could they deny themselves?

While she was pretty sure that her mom hadn’t meant it quite so literally, Marinette clung to that idea as she breathed in and out evenly, keeping her heart steady. Ladybug had a lot of expectations on her and Marinette did too. Very different expectations, and the problem was most arising from where they intersected; where Ladybug was given grace, Marinette received none. Where Marinette was left alone, Ladybug was followed by paparazzi. The balancing act between these two was far too delicate.

Ladybug was someone else. Marinette was a normal girl. Ladybug was a hero who was unknown behind her mask. Marinette was setting the stage for her. Ladybug was giving Marinette room to breathe and rest. They could help each other.

They could do this… together.

Marinette’s heartbeat seemed to thunder in her chest, and with an exhale, settled into softly beating double, but not quite. More like an echo. More like a reflection a single half-step behind her.

Tikki’s little paw landed on her hand. “It worked… Marinette, you can open your eyes.”

And, slowly, she did.

And stared at Ladybug, sitting across from her, perfectly mirroring her position.

Same blue eyes, same pigtails, and same little smile that they shared, one of relief and promise.

They were in this together.

yay, there’s that first part done… interested? :)

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous marinette #my fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #marinette sugar #miraculous magic

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