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unnerving-presence · 3 years

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Psssssst, can we have frank , Herman , Michael , and maybe Danny with a female survivor they have sex with as a one night stand thing - they both agreed on it - while she’s the last survivor / outside of the trial your choice and they develop this massive crush on her after ?

i can do that for you!

i literally didn’t see franks name until i posted this so please forgive me for not doing him 😶

suggestive themes below ^^

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

Herman Carter:

Herman developing any type of crush is very uncommon. He would always tell himself that he was way too busy to be attracted to anybody or form any type of relationship. Why was he all of a sudden attracted to you? You were just like any other survivor he had ‘met’. Surely you were some type of witch of you had managed to make him have something as childish as a crush.

Surprisingly enough, you came to him when a trial wasn’t even in play, which made him question why you asked him of all people. Herman hasn’t had the chance to relieve some stress in a while, and you did look very stunning in that outfit, so he agreed. What he didn’t agree on were these sudden feelings of love towards you >:( how rude of you to invade his mind like that.

Herman doesn’t really try getting rid of the feelings, but rather comes to accept them. He’s just attracted to you and that’s the way things are in his mind. Herman will definitely invite you into his institute if you happen to stop by again. You seem so kind and caring unlike his sadistic and brutal nature. It almost makes him want to break you, to make you submit and to know that there is no escape from his loving grasp. However that little part of his brain that is all over the place about this crush convinces him otherwise. How lucky you are that you have unlocked nice Herman.

Herman tries not to be too immature about these new feelings. He’s always been focused on his work and new experiments so he’s never really had to time to really be interested in anybody. He genuinely wants you to like him, and he wants to know more about you. And he definitely wants to fuck you again but he won’t tell you that while he’s trying to get you to trust him. What can he say? The moment you both had sex was when the horny in him awakened.

Herman won’t let these feelings get in the way of him killing you in trials. He will do so and he will enjoy it. He’ll keep you alive longer than the others, driving you insane the longer you stay in the trial with him. You’ll eventually learn to understand that it is because he loves seeing you in pain, and his sick mind wants to watch as you suffer. Don’t get me wrong, he likes you and everything, but he isn’t going to be sparing you, and he wants you to know that.

Michael Myers:

Never in his 21 years of living has he ever been so attracted to anybody like you. He doesn’t really like the feeling either. Why does he feel such a need to protect you from everybody else? Why does he feel so angry at the thought of anybody but him being near you? These emotions are ones Michael has never had much experience with and he is very confused on why he feels so attracted to you.

You had been the last survivor in the trial. You couldn’t survive another hook even if you tried, and The Shape was quick to spot you and make his way towards you. You didn’t have many options left, and you didn’t have much strength left in you to run. Luckily for you, Michael stops right in front of you, probably feeding on your fear, making sure you know that there’s no escape for you. What surprised Michael next was when you offered him sex in return for the hatch. And what surprised you was that he actually agreed, not knowing just what he would get himself into.

Unfortunately for this mans lack of knowledge for simple feelings such as love, he had become obsessed with you after. Not in the sense that he wants nothing but to end your life time and time again, but he wants to mark you as his and make sure you know that you belong to him. He absolutely hates these feelings that he’s having, and he hates you for it too. How dare you make him fall in love. He’ll make you pay, and these emotions better be gone with this silly little obsession.

Michael’s tiny ass brain cant seem to comprehend the fact that no matter how much he kills you, no matter how badly he mutilates your body, he only becomes more obsessed, more in love. He sometimes gets distracted at the sight of you while stalking the other survivors at the campfire. You just look so adorable. Like a little bunny that doesn’t know about the big bad wolf hiding in the bushes, waiting for the right time to strike. He’s stuck between wanting to kill you and simply wanting to admire you.

Was it because he had sex with you that he’s feeling like this? I mean, he did leave that trial feeling better than he was before, you did make him feel pretty good. Or was it just because he’s possessive? Probably, but Michael doesn’t know that. He just knows that he’s obsessed with you and there’s nothing he or you can do about it now.

Danny Johnson:

My boy knows what he’s getting into. He’s been in situations like this before when he was a teenager so it’s nothing new for him. However he didn’t expect to actually be attracted to you for more than a week, however long that is in The Entity’s realm. It’s just a new thing for him to actually like someone for more than their body, and that’s surprising for him considering that he doesn’t even know you that well.

He actually came to you first. He had thought you were pretty hot and honestly he just wanted a good fuck. He figured you weren’t going to just agree to have sex with a killer without some sort of trade, so he offered you a guaranteed escape the next trial you had with him. You had some pretty bad trials before so you agreed, much to his surprise. He didn’t really think you would even with his offer but he wasn’t complaining when you said yes.

Does not like admitting that he’s really into you now, not that he ever will. Danny will probably try to distance himself like Evan. He doesn’t really like relationships nor does he want to get into one. He tells himself that and then wonders why he wants to be by your side making you laugh. Why does he want to make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world? What the hell is wrong with him?? Are you okay in the head Danny? Are you sick?He thinks he’s sick.

He’ll keep his end of the deal and let you live the next time he sees you in a trial. He probably wont even touch you if he feels like that’s too much for these wildly confusing feelings. Why is he acting so childish? He should be trying to talk to you as much as possible! He should be getting closer to you! He’ll get over this little freak out when the trial is over and feels confident enough in talking to you.

Danny betrays the part of his mind that tells him getting into a relationship isn’t worth it and tries to anyways. Flirty Danny? Get ready to blush like never before. Come on over to Danny’s realm! You’ll have a great time there with your favorite killer! Yeah this man is full on in love and nothing is stopping him from trying to make you his.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #the doctor x reader #herman carter x reader #michael myers x reader #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader

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bratz-kitten · 3 years

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saturn through the houses

saturn in the 1st house: there's an ability present here to make friendships very quickly due to your dependable nature. you keep your word and your promises no matter what. the insecurities and inferiority complexes you felt in your childhood give you the push to pursue your ambitions and work hard; you never want to feel that way again. you put a lot of pressure on yourself to be better. loyal to your core. spontaneity comes hard to you because you're extremely calculated in the risks you take. be careful of how much stress you're inducing yourself with in the name of hard work. very sarcastic!!!! and mature. you have trouble expressing your true self and your original nature. there might be childhood memories you're repressing that are causing this fear of expressing yourself + your opinions. you're characterized by a lot of independence that makes it hard for you to ask others for help. there's a love for contemplation that enables you to achieve wisdom + deep knowledge.

saturn in the 2nd house: saturn here sets a clear mission on developing self-worth and self-confidence while not tying it to material gains. you may have suffered a period of poverty in your childhood that led you to truly understand the importance of money and how its lack can affect everyone's mental and physical health. now, there's an underlying anxiety about losing stability once again and going back to that dark place. you feel weird whenever you have too much money to spare because your parents might've been very stingy and didn't allow you to buy anything more than the necessary. because of that, you deeply value everything you buy. saturn here teaches you the importance of not obsessing over gaining money while working hard - and most importantly, with integrity - to attain worldly achievements. you shouldn't let greed obscure your morals nor should you feel worthless for not being rich yet - you're worthy of love no matter what.

saturn in the 3rd house: you're very anxious about your intelligence; you've spent the majority of your younger years believing your intellect to be inferior. you believed yourself to be dumb as a reflection of others' perceptions of you; your parents might have been very hard on you and you struggled to meet their impossibly high standards. saturn here gives you a mission of shedding yourself off of your fears or not being skillful and smart enough, and as you grow older, you begin to understand how impressive your capabilities truly are: you have a highly analytical and perceptive yet chaotic mind, understand things with great depth, and you're extremely strategic. you must also deal with your fear of criticism and learn to express your opinions more bravely. there’s a tendency for shyness. great listener. you hate superficiality of any kind; there's a dislike for small-talk present here, you much rather learn and talk about your various interests.

saturn in the 4th house: from a very young age, your parents placed a duty on your shoulders of being highly responsible, as if reversing the roles: you were expected to play the adult, being forced out of your childhood so you could be the one to provide stability. you might not have received much attention nor affection from your parents, which gave you a sense of feeling abandoned. to compensate for the lack of attention you received as a child, you want to overcompensate by being extra dutiful and responsible, and by being extremely caring and protective of those around you. your restrictive childhood now makes you fearful of expressing emotions + recognizing your emotional needs, and you fear that you'll never achieve happiness and a sense of fulfillment. you feel like it's your duty to speak the truth and stand up for others. very reserved about your personal life. more than anything, you want a place to feel like home; a place that you can retreat to and heal and be at peace when everything gets too much.

saturn in the 5th house: you might feel like your light has been dimmed by a parental figure from a very young age. one or both parents might've been very harsh and insulting towards your capabilities and personality, making it hard for you to recognize your potential. there's an underlying anxiety every time you're supposed to feel happy because you fear it might be taken away from you at any moment. saturn here makes it your mission to recognize the words that were thrown at you in your childhood as them projecting their own insecurities, and for you to rebuild your sense of self through self-love and pride in yourself. even if you feel anxious whenever you're having fun, you're incredibly playful and you yearn for a lot of attention. you're very spontaneous and sociable, and you always manage for others to have a great time when around you. there's a tendency to ignore your inner child as a way of acting responsibly, which in return makes you feel a block in your creativity; and exploring your creative side is very important. you can work extremely hard, please remind yourself to take a break from time to time.

saturn in the 6th house: you strive for perfection in everything you do. you work so hard to try to achieve it, but more often than not, you feel like you can't meet the high standards you set for yourself, which can cause a lot of frustration and self-deprecating thoughts, like believing you're not enough. this can be severely damaging for both your physical and mental health, and induce a lot of stress and overthinking. it's like you're constantly on this battle to one-up yourself, to always improve and be better. saturn here communicates the urge to understand that perfection is an ideal and not something you should strive to achieve because it'll kill your enjoyment of whatever it is that you're trying to be better at, and you have a mission to be gentler with yourself, to work on your self-critical nature and to feel proud of yourself for everything that you've achieved instead of criticizing yourself for not doing better. there's also a need to take care of your health, to keep healthy habits and not neglect your physical needs.

saturn in the 7th house: you’re one of the most loyal people ever, you take relationships very seriously. you love consistency and understand that it's very important to nurture a relationship daily in order to keep it strong, so you're very dependable and you expect that from the people in your life too. saturn here indicates the importance of cultivating a healthy, reliable source of self-love so that your relationships with others will also remain strong. but the problem with being so committed is that you might stay in a relationship that no longer makes you happy for much longer than you want to - please remember to put yourself and your happiness first. you might also constantly wonder if there's anyone out there for you who will love you as deeply as you love others and who is as committed as you. love and forming meaningful connections might come very hard to you; it's like you're constantly putting walls between yourself and others due to your fear of vulnerability + difficulty in trusting others.

saturn in the 8th house: you're a hard worker and very patient, extremely loyal when it comes to relationships, and disciplined. there's a tendency to fear change here, to avoid it at all costs as something painful. saturn here gives you the mission to learn to accept transformation as not only inevitable but necessary to your growth as an individual. this placement indicates a fear of abandonment due to what you've experienced in your childhood + your past relationships; now, you have difficulty trusting others because you fear being betrayed, which also causes you to be very secretive and to fear opening up to others, and to feel deeply hurt by things that others would consider insignificant. this can cause a lot of issues in your relationship with intimacy, money and your unconscious, affecting your mental health and making you indulge in unhealthy coping mechanisms. deeply spiritual, but this is something you might fear. transformation leaves room for enormous growth when it comes to wisdom.

saturn in the 9th house: even in your day-to-day life, you're constantly concentrating on profound issues, thinking about your beliefs, philosophy, religion, etc. if you were forced into adopting a religion when you were younger, there's a chance you might discard religion now, adopting an atheist or nihilistic point of view. you're very skeptical of others' beliefs, preferring to stick to your own because you're not so impressionable, which can work to your detriment. saturn here gives you the urge to practice more open-mindedness, to broaden your perspectives with extensive learning, specialization in an area, intellectual debates and traveling. saturn also teaches you discipline. you might have a fear of expanding your horizons because you understand how harsh and cruel the world can be, but you shouldn’t let that stop you from satiating your innate curiosity. you always advocate for what you believe in, even when all others are too scared to do it, and that's your strength. as the world evolves, so do your personal beliefs and morals, which you continuously work on.

saturn in the 10th house: you feel a very strong urge to accomplish greatness and achieve success, and you might deal with a lot of fear and anxiety because of the burden you've placed on your shoulders. the truth is: you're terrified of failure. you're a hard worker and perfectionist by nature, wanting to be in control of everything. with saturn placed here, you must learn that to fail is to be human and that there's plenty to learn from committing mistakes. you might take more responsibilities than you can handle, resulting in added stress, so you should learn to ask others for help whenever you need it. you're determined to be successful at the same time that you fear achieving everything you want and still feeling like it wasn't enough. you must learn to stop doubting yourself, and the confidence you will build throughout life will be necessary because you truly are destined for greatness, not because of destiny but the drive and zeal you possess makes you so. remember to take a break from time to time, and to cherish what you've already achieved.

saturn in the 11th house: you have a lot of acquaintances, but only a few close friends that you trust. you're attracted to mature, serious people who have a clear life purpose, and most of your friends might be older than you. you hate superficiality of all kinds and don't want anything to do with dull people, and you take your friendships very seriously. sometimes, you might take your friendships too seriously, and they can start to become a burden to you. you need a lot of alone time for introspection and, when you’re wanting to ecape your own mind, you might fluctuate between isolation and spending entire weeks going out (even if you feel more alone than ever in the middle of a crowd). there's a clear sense of justice here, a necessity to do what's right. more than anything, you're terrified of losing your identity, of being seen as normal and ordinary, or just as a part of a crowd, and that feeling constantly nags at you whenever you're interacting with others. there's a clear mission here to not let your restless feelings take away your passion from life and to drown out your immense potential. you must be brave when determining what you want out of life, when finding the right path for you. the efforts you take into helping the collective help you grow wiser and more mature. you're very strict about who you surround yourself with, and saturn here urges you to work on accepting the differences between everybody and on your tolerance, and to ease your necessity to be in control.

saturn in the 12th house: you feel things very intensely, and you often feel completely overwhelmed by your emotions. very sensitive, you can be fearful and insecure and often doubt yourself. here, saturn urges you to fight against your inner demons: this placement represents the fear of the unknown, the fear you feel when dealing with the uncertainty of spirituality, your deep feelings and darkest thoughts. you might fear how complex you are, and feel this sense of guilt about everything without knowing where it comes from. you might need a lot of alone time to restore your energy - but even though you tend to use isolation as a form of escapism, you yearn to become a part of the collective because you have great healing and communicative energy. the problem is that, even though there's a war going inside your mind, you don't want to ask for help because you don't want to be deemed weak or like you depend on others. you might spend a lot of time having discussions with yourself as you escape reality. you should learn to trust others and learn to face your demons instead of locking them away. the lesson here is to accept yourself for who you are. in this house, spirituality would help you achieve great wisdom. there's a potential for great talent in the arts.

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.”

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf.

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels.

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons.

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be.

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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+ Childhood

#father of mine bonus content #father of mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batman x daughter #batman x daughter!reader #bruce wayne's daughter #batman's daughter #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #clark kent x platonic!reader #superman x platonic!reader

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kingeomer · 2 years

Text

Curves In All The Right Places

Eskel/Jaskier / rated teen / 2,328 words / ao3.

written many moons ago (ok, in november) for @officerjennie as a part of @thepassifloradiscord‘s nanowrimo challenge. features jaskier, the long suffering roommate of gym rat geralt, and his soft n sweet boyfriend eskel. mild cw for some body shaming.

God, Jaskier really regretted moving in with Geralt sometimes.

Oh, sure. Living with his best friend was great. Neither of them could cook so they pretty much lived off takeout, there was always beer in the fridge, and there was always something pretty to look at.

Geralt was, of course, a walking work of art. Abs chiseled from marble, limbs like tree trunks, and that’s not to mention his stupid handsome face. But he was also a grumpy dickhead, miserable as sin most of the time, had no concept of timekeeping, and didn’t seem to always understand the importance of personal hygiene.

Jaskier had gotten over his crush on Geralt a long time ago, and frankly he found it embarrassing he’d ever had any interest in the weird bastard beyond having a pretty cool roommate.

Arguably the best thing about Geralt was his brother, Eskel.

Geralt had introduced Jaskier to his siblings early in their friendship, hadn’t had much choice, really, as one of his two brothers was almost always attached to his hip. Lambert was a prickly bastard, but he had a big heart hidden behind his piss and vinegar attitude. And then there was Eskel. Eskel was gentle, kind hearted. He was quiet and contemplative, warm and the sweetest soul, and Jaskier fell for him so hard and so fast he felt sick with how dizzy it made him.

The worst, absolute worst thing about Geralt, hands down, was his insistence on going to the gym every morning. To add insult to injury, he’d started dragging Jaskier along with him. Yes, there was the added ulterior motive for Jaskier of the gym being on the same street as the bakery where Eskel worked, but still. The stupid handsome men he’d hitched his wagon to being early birds was sickening enough, they didn’t have to drag him down with them.

Though he had to concede that going to the gym was paying off. Jaskier had no interest in being some big buff gym dude like the meatheads he’d taken to calling his own were, he’d never really considered working out beyond a morning jog, riding his bike to work, and getting laid.

Noticing the new thickness in his biceps and his thighs, how he wasn’t losing his breath climbing the far too many flights of stairs in their apartment block quite so fast, actually being able to fall asleep on a night instead of blinking at his ceiling with unpent energy coursing through him… He had to admit, it was worth it.

Even more worth it when Eskel would completely take him apart in bed (or on the sofa, or the bathroom floor, or up against the garage wall, or on the kitchen counter… Eskel wasn’t really picky when it came to the where’s and how’s) and would graze his thick fingers over Jaskier’s newly defined abdominal muscles, or when he’d run his hands up his arms and look so pleased at how toned they were getting.

Jaskier had no doubt in his mind that Eskel didn’t love how he looked before, of course. But now it didn’t look quite so much like a stiff wind would knock Jaskier over, Eskel was delighted.

He’d explained one night as they cuddled on the couch that Jaskier being so dainty compared to him made him feel bad, like he would inevitably hurt his lover, and seeing the pain on Eskel’s eyes and the worry made something in Jaskier ache.

He’d crawled on top of Eskel, straddling one thick thigh as he leaned in and cupped his handsome face in his hands. “You could never hurt me, Eskel,” Jaskier had told him, voice firm as he’d leaned in to kiss him, lingering on the scar that bisected his top lip. Jaskier had stayed on Eskel’s lap after that, trading slow, deep kisses as they held onto each other.

And so he went to the gym two or three times a week, sometimes less, and he’d stop by Eskel’s bakery afterwards for a sweet treat and several kisses. Everyone was happy.

The only real downside to his new gym membership was the fucking personal trainers.

They could be so condescending and so fucking rude sometimes. Jaskier was sure it wasn’t intentional, nobody could be as awful as they regularly were intentionally, surely. But if he had to listen to one more backhanded compliment or a snarky comment about his training gear or his waist size or him not drinking fucking protein shakes or whatever the latest atrocity he’d commited was, he was pretty sure he’d kill one of them.

And of course, Jaskier wasn’t stupid, either. He knew a few of the gym staff thought him and Geralt were a couple. They’d started showing up and leaving together, they’d train in the same parts of the gym, and Jaskier was a touchy-feely type, he couldn’t not give Geralt’s biceps a squeeze or playfully cop a feel of his frankly obscene pecs. It was a natural assumption, and while the thought made Jaskier’s skin crawl a tiny little bit —he would sooner peel his own foreskin off than fuck Geralt, Jesus— he couldn’t really blame them.

He’d gotten kind of sick of it, though. Little comments kept being made, generally focused around him being daddy’s good little twink. Geralt had told them a few times to shut up, but to no real avail.

Asking Eskel to meet him after his workout had been a good remedy. Seeing a guy leap into his boyfriend’s arms for kisses fixed a lot of misconceptions, apparently. And if it came with the extra bonus of Eskel carrying him across the parking lot to his car, and later Eskel taking him apart with his fingers and his mouth before trying to fuck him through the mattress, so be it.

It’d been a few weeks since then. The comments had mostly stopped, and the ones he’d gotten since were innocuous, easy to brush off as playful teasing.

Until today, anyway.

Jaskier was busy on a treadmill when he heard his name called, almost fell when he turned his head to see who it was and lost his footing. It was Eskel, wearing a tank top and shorts as he strode through the room like he owned the place. Jaskier grabbed onto the handrail to steady himself as he turned the machine off, stepping off and into his boyfriend’s arms.

“What’re you doing here?!” He asked, leaning up to catch Eskel’s mouth with his own. He smiled into the kiss, looping arms around Eskel’s neck and curling his fingers into his boyfriend’s dark hair. Eskel laughed softly, his strong arms wrapped around Jaskier’s waist to keep him balanced, and crucially, to keep him against his chest.

“It’s leg day?” Eskel joked playfully, a broad palm sliding up Jaskier’s back so he could squeeze the back of his neck lightly. Jaskier grinned up at him then before resting his head on Eskel’s thick chest, taking a moment of comfort. God, his boyfriend was so fucking cuddly, soft in all the best places and so strong. He was perfect, every inch of him, inside and out.

They parted slowly, with strong reluctance on Jaskier’s part. Eskel gave him one last kiss and a squeeze before heading over to the row of leg presses, settling himself in and fuck, what a sight that was. Jaskier leaned against the treadmill he had every intention of getting back on just to watch Eskel move, his long, thick legs stretching and spreading.

Nope, back to work. Jaskier would not get an erection in the middle of the gym, thank you very much.

He’d been back on the treadmill maybe five minutes when one of the trainers came over to talk to him. He hadn’t even started to work up a sweat yet, which was what Jaskier thought the guy was gonna talk to him about, how his fitness was improving.

Of course, Jaskier should’ve known better because the first thing out of the guy’s mouth was “So, that’s your boyfriend?” with a nod of his head towards where Eskel had paused his workout to gulp water from a bottle.

Jaskier found himself briefly distracted by the way Eskel’s throat worked, even all the way from across the room he found it unbearably hot. Shaking himself softly, Jaskier turned the treadmill down so he wouldn’t humiliate himself for a second time.

“Yeah, yeah he is. That’s Eskel,” he answered, a fond little smile on his face. He loved talking about his boyfriend, his big old pride and joy.

“He’s… Not quite who I’d have pictured you with…” The trainer continued, and Jaskier didn’t really like where this was heading. The other man hadn’t said anything wrong, per say, but Jaskier really didn’t like his tone. He frowned, shutting down the machine so he could step off when he needed to.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jaskier asked, hackles firmly raised. He could feel eyes on them, half the people in the room pretending not to look, but he could feel Geralt and Eskel’s eyes the strongest, and he knew the pair of them were probably moments away from leaping to his defence without even knowing what was happening.

“You’re so pretty and he’s… really not,” oh, Jaskier was gonna have to hurt somebody, wasn’t he? How dare anyone say shit like that? Eskel was stunning, with kind eyes and strong arms and a body Jaskier could use like a pillow. He was perfect, for God’s sake.

“Excuse me?” Jaskier could hear how shrill his own voice was but really didn’t care. He cared that Eskel and Geralt were both getting to their feet, but fuck it. Let them see this.

“He’s kind of gross, dude. Sorry about it…” Jaskier clenched his jaw as the man spoke, feeling the anger bubbling up and making him hot all over. God, he wanted to rip the fucker’s face off.

“How fucking dare you?” Stepping closer to the other man, Jaskier crowded into his space a little, and he obviously hadn’t expected it as he took a couple of steps back, trying to avoid Jaskier and failing as the smaller man took two more steps forward, glaring with real malice.

“He’s fucking gorgeous, every inch of him. And fuck is there a lot, if you know what I mean…” Jaskier looked the man in front of him up and down, taking in his impressive physique but also the receding hairline, the puffy swell of his chest, the scattering of acne on his cheeks and peeking over the neckline of his tight t-shirt. “Though… I’m guessing if the juice is that good, you probably don’t know.”

The trainer looked furious, clearly ready to start some shit. Not today. As he lifted a fist to swing at Jaskier, he ducked out of the way and he shoved with both hands, catching the other man off guard before he threw a punch, his fist connecting with the man’s face with a satisfying crunch, just in time for Geralt to grab him by his other arm, dragging him away from the impending fight.

“Don’t you ever talk about my fucking boyfriend like that again!” Jaskier half shouted, anger still bubbling up inside him as he was pulled away, all but spitting and hissing like an angry kitten by Geralt while Eskel followed after them to the locker room.

The drive home was awkward. Geralt and Eskel had both watched silently while Jaskier had gathered his things, and Jaskier wasn’t really willing to talk, so it worked out fine. He was seething still, anger simmering inside him. Now, though, in the passenger seat while Geralt drove, Eskel sat in the back, he felt every bit like a bratty teenager about to get scolded by his parents.

At least they had the good grace to wait until they were back at the apartment.

“If you just got me banned from my gym, Jaskier, I’m gonna kick your fucking arse,” Geralt grumbled, though his voice seemed to lack some of the usual heat he’d come to expect when he’d done something to piss Geralt off. Eskel didn’t say anything, he simply leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest as he watched the two of them.

Jaskier felt hot all over, embarrassed while still pissed off. “He was talking shit about Eskel, Geralt. What was I supposed to do? Let him?” He knew his voice was getting louder as he spoke but he didn’t care, God damnit. If the shoe were on the other foot and Eskel had punched someone to protect his honour, nobody would give a shit. Why shouldn’t he stand up for the man he loved?

Oh. Oh, he’d said that part out loud, hadn’t he?

From the way both Geralt and Eskel were staring at him, he’d definitely said all of that outloud.

“I’m gonna… Go over there…” Geralt gestured towards his bedroom door, making himself scarce. Christ. This wasn’t how love confessions were supposed to go. Swallowing thickly, Jaskier couldn’t look at Eskel as he crossed the room, pushing off the wall and striding over to his boyfriend once Geralt had left the room.

“You love me?” He asked, voice quiet, surprise lacing his every word as he reached one of his big hands out to cup Jaskier’s cheek. Eskel tilted his face up so warm amber eyes could meet cool blue, his lips tugging up in a smile. Jaskier found himself smiling back, bringing his own hand up to cover Eskel’s as he nodded softly.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Eskel started, his thumb rubbing over Jaskier’s cheekbone as he continued to smile, leaning forward a little to bump his forehead against his boyfriend’s gently. “Because I love you too, pretty boy.” He finished, surprising a happy little laugh out of Jaskier before he leaned in to kiss him tenderly.

Maybe moving in with Geralt wasn’t so bad after all.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #jaskel #jaskier x eskel #eskel x jaskier #fluff #fanfiction #manda writes

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deardragonbook · 3 years

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Writing Reference: Minor age differences in relationships

It is surprisingly rare in the real world how many relationships consist of people the same age. (The older you get, the more rare it is, which makes sense as age is relative and what not).

For today’s reference I’m focusing on a minor age gap. As usual I’ll be talking from experience so for context sake I’m 23 and my partner is 30. A seven year gap, pretty common especially where I am. I’m saying minor because it’s the average, but averages vary depending on locations and culture so take that in mind.

With all this said, here’s a list of things that happen due to this age gap:

1.- Different shows and music growing up, different games too! My first pokemon game was Diamond on the DS, my boyfriend was around to play pokemon red. That’s like, the first one!

Similarly sometimes my boyfriends and friends start going of about an old show I’ve either never heard of, or binged as an adult because it wasn’t on television when I was a kid.

Sometimes it’s the opposite and I start going on about a show they never saw because they were too old. Or shows that I watched they will laugh at because, when it was on television it was “little kid’s show”.

This leads to both me and them discovering a lot of amazing new shows. I view this as a total positive. But if a relationship was not willing to give new things a chance, this could be a barrier, less things to talk about.

2.- General different childhoods. I’ve had internet since I was like six or seven. My boyfriends grew up without it. If you’re writing fantasy, this can be replaced with any important technological advancement.

Because of this specific one, I’m more technology dependant, I use an ipad instead of paper for example, where he is better at using dictionaries and maps.

3.- Language differences. I’m fortunate enough to have grown up with plenty of terms that weren’t in use when my boyfriend was young. Some are technological, while other’s are mental health or sexuality related. Because of this when we’re discussing news I tend to speak in a more “politically correct” kinda way.

This also affects expressions, I’m going to use an example in Spanish because I can’t think of an English equivalent, “Chachi,” is a word that means cool. There’s a lot of words like that in Spanish (Guay, mola, súper, lindo...). And it’s a term that my generation used a lot in High School, my boyfriend was older, didn’t use it and now it is not a normal part of his vocabulary. He’ll said mostly “mola”.

It doesn’t really make a difference. It’s just a difference I’ve noticed and thought could be fun to implement in a story.

4.- Fashions choices is obvious and I don’t think needs an example.

5.- Playgrounds songs and games. It’s kind of upsetting that I have more overlaps with my little sister than most of my friends. But it’s also kind of funny.

6.- Schoolling! This is a big one. We learnt different subjects, under different rules. Sometimes these differences are minor, back when he was in school he had to study religion. I studied ethics. But other times the entire educations system is changes so that now a degree is worth less and I am forced to not only consider but consider almost mandatory getting a masters degree. Thank you politicians.

7.- Politics. We are one the same side of politics but the politics we have experienced and lived through are very different and that’s something you can tell when we talk and discuss stuff. I was too young when my country was in crisis to truly understand what was going on. It was just a word to me. He suffered the consequences.

This one is probably the one that can be incorporated the best into a fantasy setting. And now that I’m thinking about it, I believe Poison Study did quite a good job at doing it. Not going to spoil anything too big, but basically there’s a big political incident that happens before the books and the main character barely remembers it, while the love interest lived it. I highly recommend you give Poison Study a read! It’s one of my fave books of all time (even though I haven’t read it in years).

As usual, check out my book, stories I’ve written plus other social medias: here.

Are you in a relationship with an age gap? What’s your experience? Feel free to add to this post! I sometimes struggle with what differences are due to age and which are due to culture so I left quite a few things out.

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thimbil · 3 years

Text

Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

#star wars #the bad batch #unwhitewashtbb #wrecker #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo

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aminiatureworld · 4 years

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Affection

Characters: Albedo, Beidou, Keqing, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,705

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: More “new” characters! I’ve been neglecting Keqing and Beidou, they deserve some love. I hope as always their characterizations live up to expectations! This was very fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!

I couldn’t tell whether to make this melancholy or fluffy, so I guess I half-and-half-ed it. Best of both worlds, right? Although the tone feels definitely lighter.

Albedo

Your friends never could figure out why you were flirting with Albedo.

“That alchemist has nothing on his mind but work,” one of them once told you, “he’ll never reciprocate your feelings you know.”

“I know.” You’d replied, smiling the sort of smile people put on when they’re trying to show they’re not annoyed. “I know he doesn’t like me in that way, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to.” You’d shrugged, shifting the conversation to some other topic. In all honesty, it wasn’t as if your friend was lying. But neither were you, not really. There wasn’t any good explanation for why you were flirting with Albedo after all. You knew that he’d never take it seriously, knew you weren’t good enough for it anyways. Maybe that’s why you flirted with him. Maybe it was better to make the slightest fool of yourself than drive yourself mad thinking about something that could never be.

So you continued on your merry, if slightly self-destructive way. Every time you saw Albedo, which was quite a bit considering the fact you were often posted around Dragonspine and spent a lot of your free time in the square right outside his office, you ran his way, asking him what he was doing, or telling him about your own day. You’d developed this habit of leaning in a bit whenever he spoke to you, and the slight pause he gave as his smile grew wider whenever you did made your heart soar.

Not that you ever started thinking there was ever a chance. I mean, come on. Albedo was Albedo and you were you. There was a great deal of distance between the two of you, as if you were standing on opposite sides of a bridge which was liable to fall at any moment. You could shout across at each other, but never did you attempt to walk over to him, knowing it’d surely result in disaster.

Still, why did you flirt with Albedo? The question sort of haunted you at times. You enjoyed his company, you’d even told him you enjoyed his company. He’d smiled his sedate smile, pausing for a moment to look away from the painting he was working on. “I enjoy your company too.” He’d said, before turning back to his work. It was a quiet, calm, even sort of response, just the sort you’d expected. And yet you kept going, and though you made no attempt to push the boundaries or go any farther, you still wondered at times what the point of it was.

Perhaps following that line of thought was a bit dangerous. You found the more you asked yourself what you expected out of your closeness with Albedo, the more absent you seemed to be. It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid him or anything, no quite the contrary. It was only that you tended to want to be alone when you were thinking about something like this. Reaching out was hard, especially to the person who you were thinking about.

“Are you alright?” You glanced up from the lunch you were pondering over to see Albedo leaning over you. Feeling your cheeks redden you jumped slightly.

“Albedo! Oh I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings! Sit down!” You gestured vaguely to the spot on the bench next to you. Albedo smiled politely, sitting down as directed. He seemed to sober however once he was sitting, scanning your face for something, though you weren’t sure what that something was.

“You seem… absent recently, I was wondering if something was the matter.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine!” You shook your hands out in front of you. “I guess I’ve just been sort of busy recently, or maybe a little tired I guess. You know that the festival is coming up, right? Well Acting Grand Master Jean is really running us ragged! But I promise I’ll be back to normal soon!” You laughed awkwardly; it wasn’t as if you weren’t telling the truth per se, just… not the whole truth. But you’d rather not put all your troubles on Albedo, not when he was reaching out to see if you were okay. Smiling once more you attempted to switch topics. “How’s your research? Have you found something new while I’ve been gone?”

“Yes, I’ve begun to study the reaction between macrophage and eukaryotic cells in contrast with prokaryotic cells, and how adding elemental effects to reactions either speeds up or slows down the reaction. But I’m glad to hear you’re alright,” Albedo seemed to relax a bit, leaning backwards slightly on the bench, “everything has been much quieter with you gone. It’s unnatural, I can’t focus as well. I keep finding myself distracted by little things. I look forward to participating in our conversations once more.”

“Well I’ll be there soon!” You promised, heart fluttering slightly. Did he really mean that? I mean sure, it didn’t mean anything more than what was on the tin. Your situation hadn’t changed that much. Still, it meant something to you that Albedo wasn’t just tolerating your presence, that he was actually somewhat involved in your friendship. “I promise I’ll have some very interesting topics of conversation when I come back.”

“Good.” Albedo nodded once more before smiling slightly sheepishly. “My workspace is currently going through a cleaning and the lab isn’t supposed to let any foreign substances in in; would you mind terribly if I ate with you?”

“Not at all!” You responded. “I love spending my free time with you. What have you brought?”

Why did you flirt with Albedo? Why did you seek out his presence despite you and everyone around you knowing full well that it was never going to come to anything? What did you even think of Albedo? Well you could answer that last one at least. You loved him. You loved him very much. And even if he didn’t reciprocate the way you did, even if your friends told you it was pointless and your mind chastised you for putting yourself through the ringer, even if all that was true, you weren’t going to stop. Because you were Albedo’s friend and he was yours. And for now that was enough.

Even if a part of you continued to hope that one day this would change.

Beidou

Beidou was utterly out of your league and you knew it.

It wasn’t exactly a difficult conclusion to come to after all. Brash, outspoken, good with a sword, Beidou embodied that sort of restless, self-reliant spirit you wish you yourself could emanate.

It didn’t hurt that Beidou had essentially rescued you from destitution, having found you languishing in a corner of one of the seedier docks of Liyue, and having taken you in quickly after the fact. You owed her a great deal, and was glad to do so. After all you’d fallen hopelessly in love with Beidou.

Life aboard a slightly illegal ship was bound to be an intimate one. Everyone knew everything about everyone else, and it was very difficult to find someone that hadn’t heard about your crush. Someone who wasn’t Beidou, that was. Although it wasn’t like you attempted to hide it; you just never brought it out in the open. And who could blame you? How could anyone who’d nearly died of starvation waiting for some sort of divine help compare to the bravest captain you’d ever met?

So you two settled into a routine of sorts, at least in your mind. You ate every meal as close to her as possible, something which had been difficult at first but as the “secret” spread around became almost comically easy, you discussed your plans with her first, gave her various trinkets you’d found in your travels, asked her opinions about your weapon then asked her to train with you. The training sessions had almost killed your resolve not to tell her, nothing was so intimate as having someone constantly checking your posture, moving and arm here a leg there, closely monitoring how you moved and acted.

All the while you said nothing. It felt selfish after all to even think about it. Beidou had many a time told her crew that they were one big family. On top of the obviously platonic motives behind her love for you, you weren’t about to impose on the crew by trying to take the spot as favorite or partner. It’d make you feel sleazy.

But damn if sometimes your resolve wasn’t tempted. It was the night after a particularly successful raid, and everyone was drunk out of their minds. Even you were tipsy, although compared to the rest you were positively sober. Sitting next to Beidou, who was walking up and down the tables making speeches of various levels of comprehensibility, you thanked the archons above that this woman had saved you. It was all worth the pain and suffering, if only to see her smile, which was blinding at the moment.

“You were brave, my dear compatriots! Distinguished! Honored! Positively courageous!” Beidou let out a slight “hic”, her vocabulary always did turn a bit grand when she drank too much. “Indeed, I’m sure not even the greatest of emperors had an army which could rival the visage of our band of brothers! Storming the deck, why we all might’ve perished! Damned visions, they’re for cheaters! For fraudsters! You all fight without them, and in doing so you prove yourself far more valiant, far more exemplary than they do!” Evidently Beidou had forgotten she herself was a vision wielder. Then again, so had everyone else.

“On this night of victory, of perilous and prestigious triumph, I wish to congratulate the greatest of warriors! This! My proverbial right hand man, the distinguished…” Beidou turned around towards you, gesturing in a very flamboyant sort of manner. You stood there, shocked by the sudden attention, blushing deeply, brain so filled with awe that you only half realized Beidou couldn’t remember your name.

“Yes! This person, this noble scalawag!” Beidou lifted you up so you were standing next to her, archons was she strong. “Now I don’t believe in laws, but if I did I’d marry them I would! You all ought to be more like them, mark my words I want to see some shaping up! There are no levels on this ship, but if there were they’d be higher than you all! Pay attention to my words, they are final!” And with that, speech apparently over, Beidou planted a soft, if slightly messy, kiss on your cheek.

If it weren’t for the people around you, you might’ve fainted.

The next day announced itself with a headache, though as the least hungover of the group you were put in charge of dishing out the medicine and water. The whole ship appeared to be groaning, and though the crew was usually quite active and excited at almost any hour of the day, you could tell that most of the men and women just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

“Captain wants to see you when you’re done with your rounds.” There were a few other people helping you out, and the one that informed you about this raised an eyebrow as you promptly turned white as a sheet, before a splotchy shade of red covered your face. What was she going to say? Had she remembered what had happened the night before? You admitted to yourself that maybe banking on Beidou forgetting was a doomed cause from the start. Beidou was perhaps brash and a lover of alcohol, but her memory was sharp, and she somehow managed to never drink herself to total incompetence. If you challenged a drunk Beidou to a duel your chances were going to be about the same as if you’d challenged her sober. Hell maybe they’d be even worse. With that grim thought in mind you distributed the last of the medicine, wiping your hands needlessly on your clothes before walking towards the captain’s cabins.

You loved Beidou’s cabins, they somehow seemed both incredibly grand and inexplicably homey. With furniture made out of a plush and luxurious red sort of material, it was nonetheless crowded by knickknacks; drawings, carvings, and other such paraphernalia littered the shelves and the dressers. Beidou had once told you almost all of it was from current or former shipmates. The luxuries they stole had no use in her home.

“Captain Beidou?” You ventured. The captain was at her desk, scribbling out something, probably a plan. She loved to plan in her free time, whether or not the plan was something doable or a total fantasy. Now she looked up, setting her pen down and smiling her classic, cocky grin.

“Ah, my favorite shipmate. How’re we feeling today?”

“W-well!” You managed to get out, a bit distracted by the nickname. Ah, it seemed she had remembered at least part of it. “Um, captain, I was told you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been thinking since last night, thinking a great deal, and I was wondering, what would you think to becoming my partner, in a, well, romantic sort of sense.”

“So suddenly?” You replied, eyes widening but nevertheless cracking a smile. Beidou’s confession had been blunt, devoid of all the usual flourishes. And yet it was what you wanted, what you’d always wanted.

“Well why not?” Beidou shrugged nonchalantly. “After all considering how you’ve been acting towards me for the past few months, I figured why not become my partner. Unless I’ve been reading you wrong of course.”

“No!” You exclaimed. “I mean yes, I mean, well yes to the first and no to the second. I’d love to become your partner, and you haven’t been reading me wrong.” Your gaze dropped to the floor. “I just figured I wasn’t good enough. I mean you’re… you. And besides, you said we were all a family. I figured you wouldn’t want me as a partner.”

Beidou raised her eyebrow slightly as her smile melted into a smirk. Shaking her head slightly she approached you, raising your gaze every so slightly. “Well I can tell you right now I’m not too good for you. Not only are you good with a weapon, but you’re about as tough and fearless as they come. I don’t want to hear about how you’re secretly scared or whatnot. Everyone is that doesn’t matter. But you fight well and without second thought. And I admire that. And as for the speech about family, well a romantic partner is family of some kind. Besides the crew won’t mind, they’ve been talking about it for ages.”

“I guess they have.” You blushed; apparently Beidou hadn’t been as uninformed as you thought.

“Any last words before you’re my partner?” Beidou’s smile was as wide as you’d ever seen it and just as infectious; you grinned back.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now,” Beidou smiled, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and then a peck on your lips – something which left you grasping for coherent thought “let’s tell the others.”

Keqing

Working with Keqing was an experience akin to slowly dying inside.

You’d become somewhat enamored with the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing ever since you’d first met her. Her brusque and honest manner was refreshing, and when listening to her talk about the archons, about Liyue, about how the past and the present tied together, you never really seemed to question her. She always gave off the impression of intelligence, and, unlike some others you’d met, she had the brains to back it up. And what could you say? Before you knew it you had a crush on her.

Yet working with her showed other sides of Keqing too. She was very self-conscious when it came to compliments. Not that she minded them per se, as one time you’d asked her if your constant praise was a bother. “I just never know how to respond.” She’d admitted, and to be fair you understood that. But as long as she told you she liked them you’d compliment her.

Of course you knew it could never go beyond that. Keqing was your coworker; she was your superior in almost every way, both in occupation and in character. She never lost her cool or found herself off guard when fighting treasure hoarders or when dealing with rowdy citizens. She was efficient, capable, and aware of her incredible abilities. And she didn’t feel the need for a partner, something she had told you every time someone else worked up the courage to ask her out. You couldn’t bring yourself to impose on her like they did, not when you knew what her answer would be.

It was a slightly disheartening existence, and indeed sometimes you wondered what the point of it was, wondered if you shouldn’t just quit. But that wouldn’t be fair, not to Liyue, and not to Keqing herself. She relied upon the other members of the Liyue Qixing to work efficiently and without sudden disruption. And the sudden quitting of someone who was hardly at the bottom of the ranks would’ve certainly done just that.

Besides, Keqing was first and foremost your friend. It was a bit of a fragile friendship, yes, but it was friendship nonetheless; and you valued that friendship well above your own infatuation. If you had to bottle your feelings up so be it. You owed it to Keqing to keep it together, to not impose on her what she obviously didn’t want and to not punish her for it by drawing away. So it hurt, so what? A lot of things hurt, doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or experiencing. And this was certainly one of those things.

It was late evening, and most of the cubicles were dark. You sat, writing the last few sentences of a report, trying to ignore the headache that had been developing since earlier that day. A friend had attempted to set you up on a blind lunch date, and though you appreciated their motive the whole thing had been a chore, and now you were late on your work.

“Almost done?” Keqing’s voice broke through your mental grumblings. Looking up at her you nodded, and Keqing smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Can’t have one of our best workers getting sick on account of working too hard.”

“I won’t get sick.” You assured her. Finally stamping the paper you let out a sigh leaning back in your chair.

“A difficult day?”

“You could say that,” you admitted, “a friend went on a slightly appreciated but incredibly unnecessary mission to get me to go out on a date. Honestly, I’d rather her just treat me to lunch.”

“I can understand the feeling.” Keqing frowned in sympathy. “People are too obsessed with the idea of romance, so much so it blinds them. There are more important things in this world.”

“I’d say most people consider love pretty important.” You commented. Keqing shook her head in response.

“Perhaps, but aren’t ideals better than individual wishes? Romance may be fun, perhaps, but there are other things to consider. Besides, I find your company far more enjoyable than I would any date.”

“You do?” You responded, heart fluttering slightly; you hoped Keqing didn’t notice the blush spreading across the bridge of your nose and coloring your cheeks. Luckily it was slightly dark in the office.

“Oh certainly,” Keqing waved her hand dismissively, “you’re the best coworker and friend I’ve ever had. No significant other could give me advice like you do, or help me so much when I’m struggling with work or with my thoughts, and dates are so formal and boring and awkward compared to spending an afternoon with you. Really I’m perfectly content relationship wise with our friendship. Relationships are full of pitfalls, people keeping this little thing from their partner, or omitting that little act. No, better to have an open and supportive friendship like we do.”

“I’m glad you think so.” You replied, and really you did. You’d known since day one that a romantic relationship was off the table. So if you could stay by Keqing’s side and support her, if only a little longer, then you’d be perfectly content.

Even if a part of you still wished that things could’ve been different.

Zhongli

To be fair to Zhongli you weren’t sure how much he understood of any type of human relationship. The fact that the Geo Archon had befriended you in the first place was an achievement in itself.

And yet he had befriended you, and soon you’d found yourself falling in love with the slightly aloof, slightly out of touch geo archon. Zhongli was much more than that of course. Surprisingly open, the ex-deity took to finding out information about humanity with zeal. Always eager to ask you questions and to hear about how your day had gone or how you felt after something particularly happy or sad or gratifying, Zhongli had morphed into a pseudo confidante for you. Someone you found yourself relying on more and more. His gentle nature didn’t hurt either, or his looks for that matter; all in all Zhongli seemed like the perfect sort of person, and though you knew that you’d never be able to measure up to an archon, you found yourself unable to suppress the overwhelming love you felt for him.

Zhongli didn’t seem to mind your openness at all, indeed he sort of relished it, or at least he seemed to. Every time you reached out to grab his hand he gladly slipped it into yours, and whenever you ran up and hugged him after a long period of not seeing one another he always hugged you back. He’d eat lunches with you, and sometimes dinners, and sometimes weekends were spent running around Liyue, or at home listening to one another’s stories or reading one another’s books. It’s truly a magical sort of feeling to share a book with someone. But then again with Zhongli everything seemed magical.

Of course affection aside the whole matter never crossed the line of friendship. You never told him of your affections, and in return Zhongli never initiated anything further than conversation. Not that it bothered you; you felt there was a bit of a gap between you and Zhongli. After all surely it was idealization which caused you to recognize that someone like Rex Lapis had no want or inclination towards engaging in a relationship with a mere mortal. Facts are facts, and there’s no changing them, no matter how much you wanted to.

And yet how odd fate is.

“What is being in love like?”

You looked up at Zhongli, trying desperately to act as if you hadn’t felt your heart rate spike to unhealthy levels.

“Uhm… what do you mean what is love like?”

“I’ve noticed mortals are very enamored with love. I have to admit, my experience with romance is minimal; archons and adepti seldom see romance as something that affects them. But I want to know, as a human, what is love like to you?” There was no mockery or sense of superiority in Zhongli’s face. Not that you expected there to be. Zhongli never looked down upon humans as unequal. Many times he’d told you he admired them. Taking a breath you thought of your answer.

“Well… hmm. Love is very different for everyone. To some love is like an inferno; it’s very sudden and very intense. It sort of burns them up, it’s all they think about. I think that’s less love, more infatuation, but to some that is indeed love. To others love is sort of… staid. It’s being able to rely on them, to talk to them about anything and everything without feeling embarrassed or like you have to put on some sort of show. It’s knowing that there’s someone who will always side with you or help you realize what’s right, or be there when you feel terrible. To them love isn’t passionate, it’s comforting.”

“And to you?” Zhongli interrupted, a look of thoughtfulness on his face.

“Well to me it’s somewhere in the middle, I suppose to most people it’s somewhere in the middle. And this is only romantic love after all. Love is so big, so all encompassing, I think it’s hard to pin down. But to me romantic love is both; it is the passion that causes people to do crazy things and espouse crazy sorts of ideals, and it is the staid comfort of knowing there is someone who will always understand you, and always support you in that understanding.” You paused, realizing you’d been prattling on a bit. “Why, may I ask? Is there a reason you want to know.”

“Yes,” Zhongli admitted, voice slightly less calm than usual. “I, I’ve been thinking about my feelings towards someone a great deal recently; they’ve been alien, although not distressing per se. They feel as if I’m always on some sort of edge, but I don’t feel upset by it. Instead I want to approach it, want to be around the person who makes me feel that way. I wanted to understand that emotion more. I wondered if it was love. Thank you for answering my question, it was most enlightening.”

“That person must be very lucky.” You replied, keeping your tone as light as possible, trying to ignore your emotions, which had risen and dropped so very quickly. “I suppose I’ll have to lay off on the affection now. Part of love is sometimes being a little bit jealous, at least in the beginning, at least for some people. It’s silly, really, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Zhongli’s tone was surprisingly wry, as if there was a joke somewhere you’d missed.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Because the person whom I was enquiring about is you.”

Honestly you would’ve been less surprised if Zhongli had told you that he was going to run away from Liyue and join the circus. All you could manage to sputter out was: “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Zhongli chuckled slightly. He raised his hand, gloved fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “I’ve suspected it for some time, but I wanted to be sure. Are you alright with me telling you this?”

Alright? You were over the moon! Had you ever been this happy before? You weren’t sure, but you were happy now.

“Of course it’s alright. Zhongli, I’ve liked you for months now.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Zhongli tilted his head slightly in confusion. You stared down at your hands, slightly embarrassed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I mean you’re an archon and I’m a mortal. I’m hardly different from the other people of Liyue, and I just, I don’t know, I was scared of rejection, I was scared you’d think I was overstepping and that our friendship would crumble. And I didn’t think I could stand that.”

At first Zhongli said nothing, instead he held out his hand. You gladly placed your palm in his, comforted by its warmth.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself so cheaply,” Zhongli spoke softly, “there are a great many extraordinary things about you. Your affectionate nature, your determination to live even when the world is dark and dangerous, your willingness to open your heart to some ancient archon who knows little of humans. If that’s not extraordinary, I don’t know what is. I don’t feel towards anyone as I do towards you, at least I haven’t in a long time. So don’t think of yourself that way anymore, please.”

“I won’t.” You replied. And it was true. You knew you wouldn’t be able to, not anymore. Zhongli would make sure of that, already you could tell.

To some love burns like fire in the mind, to other it wraps you up in a blanket of comfort. You felt incredibly lucky, for you despite yourself demanded both, and somehow fate had bestowed it upon you. And for that you would be forever grateful.

#is damn a swear word?#I tagged just in case #I have sort of triumphed over my computer #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #albedo #beidou #keqing #zhongli #albedo x reader #beidou x reader #keqing x reader #zhongli x reader #scenarios #my writing #requested

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diavolosthots · 3 years

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Hey Queen! Beautiful Queen whom I love and adore! <3 It's me! Your bitch! That bitch! I was just thinking like, some wholesome Belphie is very much needed everywhere and for everyone. Like, MC is feeling super cuddly and stuff and they go to Belphie and it's just super fluffy and super cute, and really sweet - @belphies-cuhm-sluht <3

I scrolled until I found your request because I know you need it and I hope you feel better soon, cutie @belphies-cuhm-sluht

Cow Pillow (BELPHEGOR X GN!READER)

It used to be that sleeping your life away felt almost like a sin, like it wasn’t allowed. There was a time for sleeping and there was a time for doing things and out of 24 hours in a day, only eight could be spent resting or you’d feel guilty. Maybe it’s the work drive in you or maybe it’s the feeling of endless guilt that makes you feel like you have to prove yourself by doing things, more things, and definitely things done better than by others. Maybe it’s also because too many people called you lazy throughout your life so you vowed to never be lazy, somewhat neglecting your own self to prove to others that you were worth it. Who cares if you suffered, as long as everyone else was happy with you, right?

But throughout the years you found loopholes in that. They’re not even loopholes, but to you it makes more sense, and it makes you feel less guilty, rather than outright admitting that you like being lazy. These loopholes range from things like “I have spring allergies so I need some more rest…” to “well, it’s technically not due until the 25th…” to “People deserve love and affection and cuddling is my preferred type. It’s necessary to be loved in order to function.” All of these are valid all on their own, and yes, all of them are considered valid reasons, but it still makes you feel guilty admitting that, so you call them loopholes. Life’s loopholes to make you feel a little less shitty about something that’s, in all actuality, completely normal.

Today’s ‘loophole’ however, was actually something new to you, kind of. It was rainy and storming; the perfect weather to kick back and just relax. Maybe read a book so you couldn’t call yourself completely lazy. After all, reading does challenge the brain and as long as you’re stimulating some part of yourself, whether that be mental or physical, it’s okay, right? It totally counts. But you also had someone with you that’s… the complete opposite of you and he lured you in. He lures you into the deep depths of laziness that you’re unsure you’ll ever be able to get out of once you’re in them. It’s almost creepy how he does it, too, without even lifting a finger. Without a worry in his mind. Without… trying.

Belphegor didn’t care what people thought and somewhere, you admired him for that. He made it seem so easy. So what, he sleeps for 36 hours straight and no one bats an eye. If they do, he just avoids them. He doesn’t even pretend to give them the time of day and he’s explained it to you many times before. “Why would I worry about people I will never have to deal with, ever? Now that’s tiresome.” and it made sense. It would be tiresome to constantly think about how other people view you, don’t you think? Belphegor himself is hated by some, neutral for many, and loved by few, but he doesn’t care. The few people that love him, love him a whole lot and that’s all it takes for him. Maybe it’s also easier for him because that’s his avatar. Maybe. He does wonder how you do worry so much, though, because to him, that is crazy.

He actually made it a point to influence you as much as he can just because you’re almost as bad as Lucifer when it comes to getting stuff done and besides the fact that it’s, in his eyes, annoying, he also doesn’t want someone as interesting as you to end up with Lucifer. What’s that supposed to be? Wanna-be dad and step-parent? The last thing he needs is for the person he’s interested in to call him son. No thank you. Anyway, he made it a point to enter your dreams and drag them out a little bit (a lot) longer than they’d usually have. The small “oh my God I slept through my alarm!” that he heard the first few times had him laughing, but also thinking about how adorable it is. “You worry too much…” is what he’d mumble in his own sleepy voice.

Now it’s gotten to a point where he openly talks to you in your dreams and you willingly drag things out with him, but when you try to do the same in the actual world? He pretends to be asleep. Not because he doesn’t like talking to you, but he just feels more comfortable when he’s somewhat in control and can remove himself from the situation if need be, you know? That’s why he keeps his distance. He did openly admit that to you, though, and that’s fine. At least you know where he stands and that he doesn’t hate you. However, today you just… you just can’t wait until you fall asleep and until he enters your mind. It’s raining outside and you feel somewhat lonely. You’re in need of company and he’s your favorite type of company, even if you mainly hang out together in your mind. So today, you decided to just go into his room and join him. The worst he can do is say no, right?

But he didn’t even do that. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even realize you entered until you stood in front of him and in all honesty, he didn’t even fully register that either. It’s more like… he realizes he’s not alone but he’s also not awake and he definitely doesn’t care enough to open his eyes. “Hm?” You were already whispering his name, explaining awkwardly that you just needed to cuddle. “Cuddle…” he just repeated the last word, rolling over onto his back and for a moment you feared he didn’t even recognize a thing you just said. “Okay… come here then.” “Hm? Are you sure? I can leave again Belphie…” Maybe you should take this day to do something productive? Everyone else will already be lazy so one person should do something, right?

“Yes, come here. Lay down so I can lay on you.” He’s still not opening his eyes, only scooting back for you to join him on his bed and then waiting. You can either join or leave again and he doesn’t really care which option you choose. Except he does. He just won’t admit it if you choose wrong. “O...okay… yeah. I’m already here.” And you really, really would like to cuddle with him, after all. You laid down beside him, carefully, trying to respect his boundaries but also trying to remember that he did want to lay on you so should You lay on your back? “Oh… oh yeah okay this is fine.” You couldn’t even ask him because the minute he felt the bed dip, he moved back closer to you and curled into your side, placing his head on your chest and wrapping his arm around you.

“Is this okay? Belphie?” He only hummed in response, nuzzling into you, and you carefully wrapped your arms around him too. It felt nice. Really nice, and you found yourself relaxing almost immediately, although you did blame it on Belphie more than anything. He does have that calming effect on people after all. “You’re better than the pillow, but…” You looked down at his head confused until you felt him shift, his face buried deep in your chest now while he tried to keep his horns away from poking you. His tail swayed behind him for a second before wrapping around your waist right beside his arms. “That’s better…” you looked at him, poking his horn for a moment before laughing. How is this better? How is this comfortable? Can he breathe? He must be breathing otherwise he wouldn’t lay like this, right?

“You worry too much…” “What?” How did he know? You weren’t even asleep yet. He chuckled, lifting his head a bit and smiling at you, eyes still closed. “I don’t need you to be asleep in order to be inside your head… stop worrying so much. I know you want this.” He put his head back down right after, his whole body relaxing against yours and for a moment you wondered if this actually happened. “Belphie… I just…!” “Yeah I know. You want this but you worry about not doing enough. Just shut up already, okay? You, of all people, deserve to relax and what better way to relax than with me? Just ssshh… go to sleep. I won’t let you leave until I decide that you have rested enough.” And by that he means… you’re stuck with him on top of you until the next day has come and he’s thoroughly convinced you took some time for yourself.

“You’re so silly, Belphie…” But it also felt really, really nice to have someone that seemed to care so much. And he does. He cares a lot. And he wishes you’d be more like him, in a sense, but then again… he’d just keep you with him at all times and make you his new cow pillow. It’s not like that’s going to be an issue, though, right?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #belphegor obey me #belphegor avatar of sloth #belphegor x mc #obey me belphie #belphegor x reader #shall we date belphegor #obey me belphegor x reader

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body.

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm.

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered.

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.”

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?”

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.”

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.”

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month.

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair.

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly.

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.”

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.”

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.”

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.”

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die.

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room.

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered.

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.”

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled.

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.”

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.”

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.”

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.”

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.”

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom.

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well.

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

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razzle-berry · 4 years

Note

I have to get this off my chest cuz damn if no one wants to say it, I will! We all know how shitty Quirk society is when it comes to mutation quirks, being quirkless, subtle quirks, or quirks that are just perceived as evil. So I’d like to request hc’s of Shoji, Shinsou, Aizawa, and Fatgum with an s/o that hates people that judge quirks or try to let the bullshit slide.

For example, Shoji’s s/o dislikes Pony from Class 1-B for how she insulted Shoji’s appearance despite not knowing him at all, so she tends to keep a stone face or glare on anyone like that unless they apologize. Would deadass say “He’s not the monster here, you are.”

Shinsou’s s/o would openly call people cowards/idiots for antagonizing Shinsou’s quirk when it could be used for interrogating villains and subtletly get information from enemy sources, so she’s more than happy to defend him and others like him.

And Aizawa’s/Fatgum’s s/o just openly points out the bullshit ethics of the society for how no one should be discriminated or ranked for their quirk since they can’t help being born with whatever quirk they have and even calls out pro-hero’s that holds the whole “flashy quirk >” mindset *cough*Endeavor*cough* since it could demotivate and make others insecure about being a hero or even using their quirks at all.

This was long but quirk discrimination got me heated and I rarely see anyone talk about it or do hc’s about it.

I feel you. I hate this so much too especially because so many people have or may have suffered in the show because of this! I was actually just talking about this with one of my friends earlier lol.

There's going to be a bit if a stylistic change with this hc so bear with me please.

Warnings: Discrimination, swearing, Y/N is about to go off on someone, slight angst ig

Character(s): Shoji, Shinso, Aizawa, Fatgum

Mezo Shoji

Let’s just start off by saying that anybody who has the audacity to call Shoji a monster can catch not just his your, but my hands as well. This man is so strong, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well to not let the blatant discrimination turn him away from wanting to be a hero. (Absolutely no hate to those who did go down that path because of it though, they still valid)

Shoji can, for the most part, handle himself in these situations. While they hurt, he grew up having to deal with it and is sadly used to it

But the first time you went off on someone for judging him, it made him fall deeper in love

“How dare you!” The cafeteria chatter and traffic in the mall seemed to freeze in time as your voice carried out. In front of you was a rather tall man who could have been considered attractive if not for his ugly words. Mezo stood behind you, looking at you in shock at how angry you had become.

“Mezo is an amazing hero, and even better person, and you have the absolute nerve to insult him because of how he looks?”

The man started to sweat underneath your heavy gaze, as well as the whispers that started to grow around you two. Mezo decided to step in and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Darling, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” You sent him a brief smile before turning you glare onto the stranger. “You’re not the monster here, he is.”

Hitoshi Shinso

He’s used to people referring to him as a villain the second they know what his quirk is and by the time we the audience meet him, he’s accepted it

He’s fallen into such a deep pit of insecurity, it’s a wonder he even managed to accept that you weren’t afraid of him, let alone have romantic interest him

The first time he saw you jump to his, or any other person that's like him, defense he was in shock.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hitoshi stopped and stared at you in shock.

A small villain had tried to keep the restaurant hostage for some reason or another and had a woman at gun point as he talked to the police outside. While currently not on duty, Hitoshi still had his licence and controlled the villain to safely return the woman to her family and turn himself in. He tried to go comfort the woman and see if he needed anything, only for her to scream at him for having such a villainous quirk. Naturally, he was upset but he was willing and ready to move on from the unfortunately common situation and just go back to his lunch date with you. Seemed like you had other plans.

"This man just saved you, and you want to call him a villain? How much of a child do you have to be to think that someone's quirk determines what they become. Hitoshi is a wonderful hero, and his so called 'villainous' quirk has helped save hundreds of people!"

Hitoshi took your hand and started pulling you away from the woman, as you were getting closer.

"Calm down, it's fine. I'm used to it."

"Well you shouldn't be! It's people like this that create the villains in this society. Not everyone is as stubborn as you, hearing that you're going to be a villain based on nothing but something you can't control would break someone enough and have then actually turn into a villain!"

You looked at the woman in absolute rage and disgust.

"I hope you're proud of yourself."

Shota Aizawa

He someone who not only grew up with a non flashy quirk, but also is a hero without a flashy quirk. Barely anyone knows who he is because of that, as well as his underground career. While that's a good thing, all things considered, he was and is still a victim of hero society's discrimination

Shota doesn't like UA's entrance exam because it's impractical, and we know he knows that the bias allows for talented potential heroes to slip through because they're not flashy or physically strong. He would have first hand knowledge of this since it almost happened to him.

You, on the other hand, weren't a hero. At least not one like him. You helped people like him know that they're still able to become heroes, no matter what other may say about their quirks and he loved you for it.

"He might not have a strong physical quirk that allows for flashy moves to appeal to an audience, but that doesn't mean he isn't useful, or powerful."

You two were on a date when a fan, if you could even call him that, had walked up to Shota and started asking questions. All was okay until he asked if he ever felt bad for not being as powerful or useful as someone like All Might or Endeavor.

"Yeah, but he's-"

"His own person with his own accomplishments that you probably never even heard about because the media didn't care enough. He's worth so much more than a fancy quirk and a camera ready smile. Now, go back to whatever you were doing, we are busy."

Shota chuckled and allowed you to pull him along.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Doesn't matter, you are an amazing hero and I don't appreciate anyone saying otherwise because of something so stupid as a flashy quirk. Especially when they compare you to fucking Endeavor of all people!"

Fatgum/Toyomitsu Taishiro

Toyomitsu has a quirk that, on the surface, doesn’t seem very useful for hero work. I imagine that he was made very aware of that growing up, and even as he debuted as a hero.

Not to mention that his quirk, when activated, makes body shape turn into an almost oval, vague snowman shape so that might have set some people off. For such a friendly guy, that would have been a cause for insecurity at one point seeing as he genuinely wants people to be happy.

You were someone who never saw him like that and held him through tougher nights when the media got too harsh on him. You were even someone not afraid to get in front of a reporter’s camera and tear them a new one.

“What kind of a ridiculous question is that?”

It was a few weeks after his debut and some people were still mocking him for his quirk. On the surface, fat absorption didn’t seem like much and for someone who doesn’t know Toyo- excuse me- Fatgum (he’s a hero now, you thought proudly), it might even seem useless. But you knew better, and you thought that it was about time others did too.

“Just because Fatgum’s quirk isn’t flashy and destructive, it doesn’t mean he should feel inadequate next to someone who does have one like that, and I don’t appreciate you insinuating that he should.”

The reporter recoiled slightly, and tried to stutter out a response.

“I'm- I'm not-!"

"Fatgum is already an amazing hero, and he's only going to get better. So you can take your prejudice and find a new job because clearly being a reporter is not a good field for you!"

"Sugar, it's okay!" Fatgum placed his hand on your shoulder and smiled. "I'm just going to have to prove them wrong!"

His cheery demeanor was enough to calm you down a bit, but still you couldn't resist shooting the chastised reporter a sharp glare, causing them to shrink back. You smirked at the sight.

"You already have."

#bnha #bnha x reader #shoji mezo #shoji x reader #hitoshi shinso #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro x reader #tw discrimination #slight angst #but not much

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XIV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, thoughts of self-harm and suicide, depression, some triggers might not be fully tagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: It’s the final day of the tournament and all are holding their breath to see who prevails.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The arena was buoyant on the final day of the tournament. The most awaited event, the joust, was finally come. As Lord Barnes would once more be among the competitors, you were left on your own in the box with the rest of the ladies and their queen. Most of the noblemen were listed for the sport, Barnes, Rogers, Stark, and even the king.

You didn’t watch as the names were announced and the banners presented before the games commenced. Your attention wasn’t even drawn as the first clashed with their blunted staffs and galloping horses. It was much more perilous than the other contests.

You stayed away from the other women. You were not interested in humouring the queen’s false kindness nor were you interested in their chatter of things that hardly mattered to you. Sewing, birthing, loving; you didn’t care for any of it. You didn’t care for them or the men on the field. You cared for nothing in this bleak world.

As Barnes took to the saddle for his first opponent, you glanced down lazily but found your eyes drawn to clouds instead. It was bitterly cold under the grey sky, streaked with umbrous and ominous wisps. It would likely snow soon as if to mark the grand finale.

You tucked your hands into your sleeves and hugged yourself alone on the bench. You were drawn from your glowering by the rustle of skirts. The queen sat beside you and let out an airy sigh.

“Thankfully, my brother has kept clear of conflict,” she said, “in fact, he’s hardly spared another snarl for the visiting Baron.”

“Your majesty,” you muttered as the flag was waved and the horses barrelled at each other and the men pointed their long poles.

“Unless you count this,” she mused as his pole broke off the armour of the other men and sent his adversary sprawling and the other horse whinnying in a panic. You lowered your eyes meekly. “He will be eager to be away and I do hope you aid him in a speedy departure. The baron is expected to remain in the capital for the winter.”

“Yes, he is want to be gone back to the castle,” you assured her.

“It would be tragic if you were to be snowed in here. Very inconvenient and costly at that.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” you said flatly.

“You understand the urgency that will follow in the coming days,” she intoned.

“I understand but you do seem to misunderstand your brother. To think that I have any hold over him is farcical. He does as he pleases. He is a duke, I am a displaced chambermaid. That is all it is… your majesty.”

“You do not speak as a chambermaid,” she replied sharply, “my brother favours you but he still cannot overrule me, understood?”

“Your majesty, I understand my place completely,” you ceded, “would I be remiss to excuse myself?”

“For what means?”

“To find a commode,” you answered, “these game do carry on and I am distracted by my humanly needs.”

“Go off then,” she stood, “you are rather dour today. You would cast a mood over us all if you languish thus.”

“Your majesty,” you rose and made your way to the doors as she rejoined her ladies and gave a forced giggle as they welcomed her. You wondered how the nobles were trained so well in lies. Was it in their books or did their tutors include it in their curricula?

You descended the stairs without aim. You had no need of the commode, only an excuse. You stepped out into the lower stands and peered out at the field. In that moment, you could be gone. You could disappear and be away from all this misery.

You scoffed at yourself and leaned against the wooden planks. He’d find you again. You couldn’t make it far enough before he sniffed you out again. You weren’t stupid enough to try it twice, even at such an opportune moment. You would only earn yourself further punishment.

“Is something amusing, my lady?” you stood straight and looked startled to the man who emerged from the shadows of the stairway. Lord Zemo smirked and came to stand arm to arm with you as he looked out across the stadium.

“My lord, I was only watching the field,” you lied, “thinking.”

“Ah, yes, these games, how violent,” he remarked, “where I am from, we have festivals before tournaments. Singing, dancing, poetry, theatre… I suppose that is just as silly as all this.”

“It is… a privilege to be able to afford silliness,” you said, “to not be the one cleaning up after all of it and yet… so very pointless.”

He nodded and grumbled as he considered your words, “very true. Wise, even. I think that after one has seen how grave things can be, these affairs become less and less entertaining. It is almost sickening to think of them, let alone attend them. Why should men play at war as if it were fun?”

You peeked over at him. He was here because he once fought those men down on the field with real steel and armour. It was rather grim to think of. “I did not think of it like that but I suppose you are right. I know little of war, however, my lord.”

“You know of pain, though,” he said, “it is painted on you as much as those battle scars carried by veterans like your beloved Barnes.”

You were silent. You stared up at the sky again, the endless grey, the half-finished canvas.

“Beloved? Perhaps that is the wrong word for him. I see little affection there. I sense it is not an arrangement you asked for.”

“Does it matter if it is?” you shook your head, “My lord, you waste your breath on little more than a servant. I suffer Lord Barnes the same as any, I am no help to you.”

“Help? I have no desire to change my standing with Barnes, I am not so foolish as that,” he turned to face you, “Have none ever taken interest in you as your own being?”

“I am a servant. I am not my own being,” you murmured, “my lord, if you would, I should return to my party.”

“As you will,” he said dolefully, “it was a pleasure to meet again.”

“Was it?” you asked as you turned to go.

“It is always a relief to speak of anything but politics or gold,” he said, “and yes, you served me well in this conversation. As you said, that is all you are worth.”

You left him but didn’t ascend back to the box. You continued down the steps until you reached the final landing. You looked up and sat on the lowest stair. A moment of peace before you had to go back. To not think for a single second.

🏰

You listened to the raucous voices of the audience. You didn’t want to move from that spot. You didn’t want to go back to it all. You just wanted to stay on that step forever. But you knew you had to go. You knew you had to get up.

You lifted yourself wearily but your foot only hovered above the bottom stair. You heard more voices, and an angry one as the crowd bang and buzzed. You followed the lower sounds, the singular conversations yelled through the din. You ventured down the tunnel that led beneath the stands.

Horse kicked and snorted as you came into the area meant for competitors. Men sat and stood with blood on brow and lip. Those who’d already lost, many as the final face-off was about to commence. You looked around but did not see Lord Barnes. Perhaps he was on the other side or even looking for you.

You walked the perimeter of the large space and a familiar face caught your eye. Peter rubbed his shoulder as he muttered, his aunt and uncle sat with him as the former checked the cut on his chin. You felt the same stabbing in your chest as the night before. Before you could think, you were marching towards him.

You skidded to a halt before him and gulped. You didn’t know what to say, you only knew how you felt. He looked over at you as May and Benjamin followed his gaze. You wavered and blinked away the tears that threatened.

“I did want to be friends but I stayed away to protect you, Peter,” you said, “did you have to be so cruel?”

“What? I--” he stood and winced as he jarred his shoulder, “I didn’t-- I wasn’t--”

“I know what I am and I know we cannot be friends but could it have hurt to let me think ‘what if’?” You quivered.

“No, my lady, I--”

“You know I’m not a lady. No need to treat me like one now. I heard you last night. I didn’t come to change your mind, I’m not so simple as that. I only came-- well, I don’t know why, but perhaps I only wanted to say to one person how they hurt me. Perhaps I wanted to just once be able to speak my part and that I can do because I know I will never see you again.”

You brushed past him and he reached for your arm as he stammered, “please, don’t, I was l--”

“Don’t,” you shrugged him off and stomped on as the figures around you blurred and the anger and despair swelled in your head.

You followed the noise of the crowd. They were hungry for blood. If that was what they wanted, they would have it.

You pushed out from behind the curtain and the wood and dirt vibrated from the cacophony. You saw Lord Barnes in his saddle as he was handed his pole and his competitor, Lord Rogers, as he took his own. Their attendants checked the horse and took them to their marks.

You quaked as the ocean of voice rolled over you and you crept out along the wall. All were entranced by the two dukes as they readied for their signal. Barnes silver armour was dented and dinged from his former bouts and Rogers golden armour was just as scuffed. The two men steadied their steeds and the crowd fell into a hush of anticipation.

The red cloth dropped and the riders galloped at each other across the field. The hooves dusted up the cold dirt, through blood stains left throughout the day, and the crash that came sent up another cheer through the crowd.

Wooden slivers exploded around Barnes and Rogers was pushed back against his horse as his own shield was deflected. Both men kept astride and righted themselves as they rode back to their posts and again, their liveried attendants approached to calm their horses and fix their dressings.

They would go again and again, until one of them was tossed from their saddle or worse. You began to breathe heavily as you paced along the wall and the lords were handed new shields. You readied and watched the man in gray lift the rag. You began to run before it was even visible to the crowd.

You heard the horses barreling at each other as you did the same. You closed your eyes as you got closer to the lanes and you tossed back your arms as you threw yourself forward. A heavy and hard force hit you and several crushing blows landed across your body as the horse trampled over you and overturned.

You croaked as you were left in the dirt. The eerie silence that followed was void of the bouncing excitement. It was broken only by the screaming of the injured horse and the confused voices of those on the field. You heard that familiar deep groan, of pain, not delight this time.

You rasped and gasped as your chest ached and your bones throbbed. Your limbs were filled with sand and your head pounding. There were shadows all around you as you wheezed and you smiled as you tasted blood on your tongue. You began to laugh as your eyelids drooped and blacked out the arena.

“Don’t move her!” A voice called as someone touched your arm. It was broken, you were sure of it. It didn’t matter, they couldn’t fix you. Not your arm, none of it.

You laughed louder and louder as you heard more footsteps. It was all so funny. You were free! Your eyes rolled back and your mind flickered. Just before the flame gave its last lick, you heard his voice. The gravity of it gave you peace.

“Is she alive? Is she alive!? Help her! Help her!”

Lord Barnes could demand as he did for all he had but in this, he could not be mollified.

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perpetual-help · 3 years

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If I might ask, how did you return to Holy Mother Church?

Well, the short answer would be by the graces won for me by The Blessed Mother. I owe everything to her intercession.

I was a cradle Catholic who fell away from the Church during my later teenage years. I abandoned God out of anger and also out of a growing curiosity in the occult. I studied and practiced (and eventually mentored in) witchcraft for about six years. Towards the end of the six years, my pursuits into witchcraft grew darker and more sinister. To give you an example of the mindset I was spiraling towards - back then, I was becoming more acquainted with groups who condoned human sacrifice / cannibalistic rituals / cursing for the pleasure of causing chaos and misery / knowingly working with demons. I thank God that I was spared from going any further in these groups than simply learning what they do or what they encourage to be done through text, and nothing more.

I met someone I will call “H” through a mutual friend (in person.) My first impression of H wasn’t a very good one, given that I could tell from our first interaction that H was a Christian. Back then, I could differentiate between Christians and non-Christians by the feeling of the air that would surround them, and if I found them to be Christian, there would be an immediate swelling of hatred towards them. I had a tarot reading done for H and I to see whether it would be worthwhile to humor a friendship with a Christian, and the person who gave the reading claimed that H and I were actually soulmates. I took this seriously and decided that, since H and I were apparently connected in such a way, I had to make an effort towards H’s wellbeing, even if it never led to anything romantic. H attended a small Pentecostal church that would post its service online, and I would occasionally watch some of the sermons in order to mock and laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They would “speak in tongues,” give “words” to people, run around in “the spirit,” and do other things that I found stupid but thoroughly amusing. My interest was especially piqued by the idea of “speaking in tongues” - because, when some of them would “speak in tongues,” I could understand what they were saying. (More on my present thoughts about this later)

H suffered from depression, which I considered a blight to the both of us, given that we were allegedly soulmates. One Sunday, H said they did not want to go to church because of the depression, and so I offered to go with them, knowing that they would leap at the opportunity to drag a heathen to church. On my way to the church, the voices I recognized as my “spirit guides” at the time were leaving me with strong internal impressions such as: “He is going to say that your chains are breaking, ignore him.” And “he is going to single you out, don’t fall for it.” My answer to these impressions was “fine.”

When I entered the Church, I felt an immediate repulsion. People were dancing and singing pop worship songs, and I internally questioned why I had chosen to do this. Sure enough, the pastor did single me out. Most of what he said to me could be attributed to cold reading, but it was entertaining. I was told “Your chains are breaking. You wear your past bad relationship like a scarlet letter on your forehead.” and “You’re going to meet a Godly man and your relationship will be like out of movie. When you do, cling to him.” I’m not sure how to describe some of the sensations I felt during parts of the service. At times, I felt like my skin was crawling, or like my skin was burning, and other times as though my throat were closing and I was being choked. I initially brushed these feelings off and tried to convince myself that it was social anxiety, but that experience lingered with me even after the service. H and I talked a lot after church, mostly about the Bible and different parts in the scripture. I had a lot of questions and H was kind enough to offer loving and well-thought-out answers. I went home and cried, and it was the first time I had properly cried in several years. I wasn’t sure why I cried at first, but the day’s events recurred in my mind’s eye and I recalled how horrible I’d felt while people worshipped around me. At that moment, I genuinely wanted to know the truth - I wanted to know whether God was real. And, if He was real, I wanted to know whether He would help me. So, I prayed. I asked God this: “If you are real, please touch my heart so that I know.” Immediately, I enveloped by this warmth and peace, and something I can only think to describe as perfect love and tranquility. My heart felt this so intensely that it seemed to be overflowing in and through me, and I wept. I only then was able to realize how absolutely miserable and exhausted and anxious and depressed and wrathful I had been for so long. I wept, and I promised to give myself entirely to God. In return, I asked Him to help me to become a servant pleasing to Him - to love Him more, always. The demons I once considered my “spiritual guides” and “deities” showed their true colors after this experience. I would say, for the first year of my conversion, I was tormented a lot in different ways - but especially in my dreams, and by feelings of intense anxiety and despair that would be thrown upon me out of nowhere and that coupled with the sensation that the walls were closing in. The voices and impressions I once recognized as “friends” started to say things like “you can’t be saved, you’ve already given yourself to us.” among other lies. These torments continue today, and in other ways, but they aren’t as constant as they were towards the beginning.

I threw away six years worth of junk I had acquired which left my room essentially empty, but it was a liberating feeling. I started to attend the Pentecostal church, but my time there didn’t last. They hosted a woman who called herself a prophetess who spoke in tongues, but what she would say would be blasphemies. People would shout “amen” and “alleluia” to these utterances, and I began to understand that this group didn’t know how to discern the spirit. The breaking point for me was when the pastor claimed that Jesus had to learn how to perform miracles - that, and, the glaringly obvious inconsistencies between his sermons and scripture. There was an unhealthy focus on titles of ministries and “what God can do for your health and wealth.”

I lasted three months at that church before it clicked in my head that the Catholics were right. This, was also in part due to my rediscovery of the Bible verses that referred to Jesus’ command to eat His flesh and drink His blood, and a dream that followed. So, I went to confession for the first time in probably 8 or more years. It was a frightening experience and I cried during the entire confession like the wimp I am, but the liberation I felt afterwards far outweighed it all. A couple of days after my confession, I attended Mass with my mother. During the Transubstantiation, while the Priest held up The Body and Blood of Our Lord, I smelled a strong incense. I only noticed the smell because I normally disliked Church incense for how strong it is, but this one, while it was strong and impossible to ignore, it was the most beautiful smell I’ve ever encountered. (There was more crying) After Mass, I asked my mom whether she knew what kind of incense they used, and she deadpanned “They didn’t burn incense.”

Now that I have had more time to process the beginnings of my conversion and especially my encounters at the Pentecostal church, I am of the impression that I was able to understand their “tongues” because it was demons speaking through them. I’m aware that there’s a Charismatic Movement of Catholics who also claim to speak “in the tongues” but I am always wary of such claims, and I avoid such practices like the plague.

God is so merciful and so loving, and my entire life is a testament to this. I did nothing but offend Our Lord and hate all things good and Holy, but still, He called out to me and saved me from the miserable state of death I hadn’t realized I was in. All Glory to God.

As St. Germanus of Constantinople said: ”There is no one, O Most Holy Mary, who can know God except through thee; no one who can be saved or redeemed but through thee, O Mother of God; no one who can be delivered from dangers but through thee, O Virgin Mother; no one who obtains mercy but through thee, O Filled-With-All-Grace!”

For this reason, I also attribute these great graces given to me by the intercession of Our Blessed Mother, and I owe her nothing less than my life in return for this favor she has shown me.

I hope my answer has satisfied the question without being too tedious.

God bless you, and keep you.

#catholic #roman catholic #catholic witch #christian witch #christian #witchcraft #conversion #ask

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shihalyfie · 3 years

Text

The importance of a burnt egg

Appmon is a very over-the-top and silly series, which is one of its standout features in a story that features some really heavy topics (both emotionally and academically). The first presumable reason as to why the series is this way is tone; if it weren’t for all of this dorky silliness, the sheer weight of the story could easily get overwhelming to the point it becomes difficult to digest (especially considering this is a kids’ series). Having all the fun parts helps make the delivery more palatable and easier to understand, allowing it to cover some pretty deep topics it might not be able to otherwise.

However, it’s important to realize that this is most definitely not the only reason for these kinds of things -- the strange wackiness is also very important to the theme of the series itself. At first, it might seem a bit strange to insinuate that something like a burnt egg actually has theme importance, but you’d be surprised...

(Note that there are spoilers for the series in the rest of this post.)

Let’s fast-forward to the end of the series, episode 52, when Leviathan makes its case as to why humanity should accept its ideal world.

The question of whether it’s better to have emotions or not has been a staple theme of sci-fi (especially AI-themed sci-fi) as long as the genre has existed, but when you get to the end of Appmon and everything that’s led up to it, you have to admit that it makes a pretty compelling case. Leviathan isn’t saying this out of simply just being condescending about humanity being bad at taking care of itself; it really, truly thinks that emotions and hearts are doing everyone an inconvenience. It itself even understands the concept of “death”, and believes it’s doing everyone a favor by keeping everyone from it. Through all of the previous episodes, we’d seen all of the messiness and emotional pain that Leviathan is warning against. Haru just went through a whole cycle of learning he might have been gaslighted. Eri went through the bittersweetness of still not being able to attain the goal she’d worked so hard for. Astra’s still figuring out what to do with this life and what place his family has in his future. Rei had to go through the pain of losing and having to chase after his own family for the entire series. Yuujin, depending on Haru’s choices, may end up dying, with every purpose and hobby he’d built up coming to an end.

Yeah. Life kinda sucks sometimes. There’s a lot of problems going on in society, tons of heartbreak, and everyone’s interests clashing into each other create strife and suffering. Wouldn’t it be better to wipe all that away? Forget everything and let an objective system handle it all? No more need to make choices, especially when the ability to make choices sometimes leads to making bad ones; the system will efficiently organize everything, without any of that chaos or strife or pain. Sounds great, right?

Well, firstly, the problem with this is that Leviathan isn’t a perfect, unbiased system. Nor is anything else in this world. As many AI researchers will tell you right now, even the most advanced black-box AI algorithms are still made by humans, with human biases, and subject to imperfections, because anything part of an imperfect world will still be imperfect. We see a brief glimpse of recognizing the series resident No Guy in the faceless crowd; its job of supposedly wiping misery and pain from the population isn’t exactly working the way it thinks it is. Even Leviathan does briefly admit that it has more it wants to learn. In fact, Leviathan’s defeat largely centers around its realization it doesn’t understand everything about the world after all -- Haru and his friends managed to derail its ostensibly perfect plan that had been building up over the series at the last minute, and Haru himself made a shocking unexpected “third option” choice to the dilemma it’d provided it. “Humans have a surprising side to them,” after all.

As Appmon’s resident edgelord, Rei has an amusing style of writing in that he’s quite the serious person yet keeps getting put in increasingly absurd and comedic situations. There are a lot of reasons for it -- making it clear that he’s not quite as good at the whole edgy schtick as he pretends to be, and also the sheer juxtaposition being funny -- but this really comes to a head in episode 42, where Rei is constantly placed in increasingly ridiculous situations and contexts until the very end, and said very end takes all of the stupid hilarity and suddenly punches you in the face with it when it connects to how Hajime is eventually found. In the end, all of Hackmon’s abilities and all the cognitive thinking in the world paled in comparison to Rei doing something so phenomenally stupid that Hajime remembered his brother and laughed.

After all, if we’re talking about emotions, you can’t forget the one that’s repeatedly permeated all of media and sentiment as well: connection and love. And as it turns out, Hajime recognizes his brother when his brother is doing something stupid.

In the following episode, episode 43, pay close attention to the sequence of events when Rei tries to get Hajime to wake up. Rei tried everything, ranging from getting the Appmon to help, to taking him out everywhere, to cooking every kind of egg under the sun. But here’s what’s significant: we’re treated to a montage of Rei making those eggs, and every time we see them, Rei makes them correctly, because he’d gotten better at making eggs since Hajime had been taken away. And that’s exactly what the problem was, because the moment Rei messed up out of being lost in thought, burning the egg, that was the one and only time that had any significance to Hajime, enough to actually bring him back.

In other words: it was the human mistake, not anything perfected, that actually had meaning.

Burnt eggs shouldn’t exist in Leviathan’s world. That’s a byproduct of bad choices. It’s inefficient and clumsy, and wouldn’t be happening if a perfect system were running everything. But it’s those imperfections and mistakes and slip-ups and all of the inconsistent, flawed parts of humanity that create connections and differences and make the world go ‘round. And in a world increasingly trying to make things more efficient and closer to “perfect”, this is what we risk losing.

YJ-14 was a “failure”. It failed at its job, and whatever routine it was supposed to be using to please Haru ended up becoming something inefficient and messy that helped derail Leviathan’s plans. For it, Yuujin ended up having doubts and pain, and having to face death. But as he puts it: because of all that, he got to meet Haru, and he got to be Haru’s friend, and live the kind of life a human would live, with happiness and aspirations and relationships to others. And, as it seems, that wild, messy life was fulfilling enough to be worth him sacrificing his life for Haru.

Besides, Haru was right: Yuujin wouldn’t have been able to do this if he didn’t have a heart. Artificial intelligence advancing also means advancing enough to understand this, too. And as Haru had told Leviathan earlier, while Leviathan insisted that everyone having the ability to make their own choices was making everyone miserable, Haru counters that all of their choices and will had been what allowed them to initially defeat Leviathan, too. Despite all the hardships they’d faced, they’d chosen to overcome those hardships, and came out the better for it.

The world Haru lives in is messy, ridiculous, and with a lot of problems everywhere. Leviathan may be gone by the end of the series, but the technology its world lives on still remains, and there’s still uncertainty in the future about what might happen with those future developments. But this was the world Haru and his friends chose to protect -- one that’s not perfect or clean by any means, but one where all the weird, strange zaniness makes it worth going through all the converse pain and misery for, because those mistakes and rough parts have meaning of their own, too.

Even if that means burning some eggs a few times.

#digimon #appmon #digimon universe appli monsters #shihameta #katsura rei #rei katsura

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