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yawneon · 2 months

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luke with dionysus!reader where he tries to convince them to join him but reader has a good relationship with their dad so they can’t understand? 👉👈

THE PLEADS OF A SNAKE

pairing : luke castellan x reader

summary : in which luke castellan tries to convince you the gods are evil, they are the sickly ones. right?

!!! : charlie luke not hot book buzzcut era coriolanus jason luke (but every version of luke is hot), unedited and unread (im so tired pls it’s 1 am), crazy luke, i love dadionysus

a/n : I FUCKING LOVE THIS PROMPT IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH LET ME FUCKING COOOOOOOK 😈😈‼️‼️‼️‼️

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

it was cold at camp, usually the days were warm throughout, but today was off. everything seemed off. the trees swayed in the wrong ways and the campers were messing everything up when you were teaching archery basics. today was weird.

you walk to the big house from the lake in camp, your mind wandering places much further than the boundaries in camp half-blood. you watched as the wind hit the grass and the leaves but today just didn’t seem… right.

a group of campers all huddle around a table at the arts & crafts building they all seem, weird?

maybe it was you. maybe you were tired and your mind was playing tricks on you. today was the day percy came back to camp, maybe it was that.

you walk down past the volleyball courts, a group of losing and very angry ares kid’s were versing a group of extremely sly and giggly hermes kids obviously riling the opposing team up. you walk past knowing you would have to split that up later.

the walk to the big house seemed almost ritual at this point. your father was the MR D, the big dog of camp half blood. being one of dionysus’ only children at camp currently you have been appointed to ahem, cabin 12 counselor which mainly consisted of telling your 2 brothers to shut up.

many campers envied you and your tight knit family relationship. having mr d as your dad wouldn’t seem the most optimal parent by seeing his fiery temper sometimes and his lack of effort to remember names but in reality you had hit the godly parent lottery.

although at times you don’t know if you should call him dad or mr d, a life with dionysus was never a boring one i give you that. from the game nights at the big house to being an all year round camper, you were eternally grateful to have such a funny yet theatrical dad.

the sunlight pans down onto the path infront of you, the smell of summer still lingers in the air despite winters call. the green grass swishes in the wind and the trees follow. you took in a deep breath before your eyes land on the big, blue house infront of you again.

your steps to the big house became faster, the crave for some fatherly advice becoming stronger. you push open the door and you look for your dad. you see him sat at a round table next to chiron and they play a game of cards. you sit at an empty chair and you sigh down.

“whats wrong with you?” dionysus furrows his eyebrows, his worry hidden by his pursed lips.

“dunno. something about today just seems so…” you try to explain but the words can’t come out and your brain gets all fuzzy trying to describe it.

“yeah. right.” mr d furrows his eyebrows further as another tight-lipped expression is following on his lips. chiron gives him a hardened look. his eyes saying comfort your child silently.

your dad pushes out a slight sigh and he looks up at you, “you’re probably just in your head, kid. go swing your sword around and i’ll organise something with your brothers tonight.” his face softens. dionysus wasn’t the best at showing his love, especially when he was banished to live and direct this camp but despite all that he always showed up as a father so you listened to him.

you nod quietly standing from the chair you were sat in. you say your goodbyes to the two men and you walk to the armory, the hair on your arms standing up as you do.

the sun begins to lower in the sky, yellow and orange paint the horizon beautifully. the bright sun sinks slowly behind the trees into the west. your walk to the armory was dreadfully uneventful, the scattered campers staying to themselves as you walk by. you had bent the main sword you use so the armory was your first stop instead of the arena.

you push the door to the armory open slowly.

dust flies into the air and light pours into the dark room from the doorway. you walk into the armory, the smell of rusted metals and bronze hitting you in the face quickly. you scrunch your nose in defiance to the smell and continue to look around.

your eyes landing on a spare sword. you reach up for it and pull it down slowly, your eyes landing on the blade. you stare into the reflection of the blade turning it in different angles to distort the sun.

twisting it one way then another and when you turn it to the left, you realise that your reflection is not the only one.

“luke?” you turn quickly out of shock. your head whips around and you jolt forward slightly getting a small freight.

“hi.” he says deadpanningly, his eyes are wide yet something was behind them. luke’s eyes did not look like his own today.

he looks like he was longing for something, a small twinge of regret hidden beneath his brown irises. regret and anguish.

you face him, a hand wiping over your forehead. “when did you get there?”. your eyes trail back down to the blade in your hands and your fingers run along the edge collecting dust along the pads of your pointer and thumb.

you let out a comforting breath and walk towards him, “seriously you almost gave me a heart attack” wiping the dirt from the sword onto your orange shirt. clouds cover the sun in the sky for a moment and the sunlight in the room dims as you look up at him trying to piece together the puzzle of his expression.

“go on a walk with me? i need to tell you something” luke musters out quickly, his hand whipping out to grab onto your arm. the squeeze he gives your bicep is a begging one, a begging cry for you to please say yes.

it’d be a lie if i said you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach right now. luke has something to tell you, alone. the kaleidoscope of butterflies (yes thats what a group of butterflies is called i googled it) flutter around hopelessly in the pit of your stomach and a light blush appears on your cheeks.

you give him a soft nod and purse your lips together before verbally agreeing, “alright..”

you’re the one that leads luke into the forest, a small talk conversation happening between the two of you. usually he’d be talkative and engaged in the moment but the way his jaw clenches and his muscles tense you can tell something is not right.

you and luke walk silently next to eachother into the dense forested area of camp half blood. the sword in your hand swishing at bushes beside you. you spare him a few glances before turning away.

you like luke castellan, honestly it was hard not to. he was helpful, he was kind, he was thoughtful and oh gods was he a sight to see. your eyes trail from the ground infront of you to the blade in your hand and then to luke only to find he was already looking at you.

“why’re you looking at me like that castellan?” you laugh it off softly hiding your bashful expression from him as you look to your feet. luke stops walking, his hand wrapping around your arm as he stops you too. he tugs you back gently his eyes conflicted.

luke’s eyes bore into yours and his mouth opens to speak but he seems doubtful for a moment. he steps towards you, the proximity between you and him closing.

lukes hand raises to touch your cheek but he hesitates.

he had never hesitated to touch you, to embrace you, to laugh with you. why now was he?

you and luke had been tightly knit ever since he came to camp. you were young when you were brought into camp, 3 years old. your mother had not enough resources to bare a child and in a plead of desperation your father had appeared to take you to camp. luke and you were the same age when he came to camp and the two of you caught on quite quickly, all a bit too well.

luke and you had this sort of push and pull relationship, you liked eachother but you weren’t in the most ideal place to date.

yeah sure, maybe you two would sneak out far past curfew ans swim in the lake together and perchance you two shared a kiss under the warm moonlight, his hands wrapped tightly around you as your own reach to his cheeks but no you two weren’t offical.

you were friends, right?

“whats up?” you look up at luke puzzled at his uncertain movements and his darting eyes. you catch his hand in your own before it could drop to his side. luke gulps silently, and he speaks.

“join me, love.” he rasps, a pleading almost hungry eyes on you.

“what?”

“j-“ he stutters his eyes becoming more erratic like he was itching to tell you he needed you.

“join me, the gods have failed us my love, join me and kronos.” luke’s hands grab onto your arms clutching at them tightly.

your hands however harden around the hilt of your blade as your eyes search his. “luke what the fuck are you saying?” you laugh out, not because you find it funny.. more because you’re lost, what did he mean?

“the gods have failed us! they have failed their children! they don’t care for us, they just want us to fight their battles!” he exclaims and you thought he was joking at first. joining kronos? the titan lord that ate his kids and was banished to tartarus? THAT kronos?

the moon becomes higher in the sky and the light from the sun fades as he breathes out shakily.

“luke what do you mean failed us?” you shake your head, the expression on your face fading from confused smile to just pure confusion. “luke the god’s where the only people who came for me, who cared for me.” your eyes drift down towards your sword and luke’s eyes follow yours. he notices the way your smile drops and the way confusion laces your tone.

luke takes a step back, his stare stiffening. “no no no, i don’t think you’re understanding what im saying.” he shakes his head now, his eyes going from your eyes to the sword in your hand. “i’m telling you.”

“join me and kronos, i am telling you to.. not asking.”

you’re head tilts and some sort of ache appears inside of you. the boy that you liked, that you loved is joining the army of the most evil and twisted being in tartarus. the boy that you would willingly give your heart to is joining kronos’ army.

you couldn’t wrap your mind around his words. the gods have failed us.

the gods have failed, us. the word ‘us’ in that sentence felt empty. luke knew that his words were a lie. the god’s have never failed you, your dad never failed you. luke knew by the way your eyes looked at him, he knew you would never agree.

“listen to me, i need you.” luke whines and pouts, its like if a switch flicked on in his brain. you take your own step back, you look him up and down. you didn’t see his backbiter sleathed tightly on his hip before. you take a gulp of your own and your eyes focus on his.

luke’s eyes darkened and a smile curls onto his lips, “you know i love you!” he insisted. the way his expressions changed from almost fearful, to demanding, to hungry and then to downright shrewd sent a chill down your spine.

the moon raises higher and higher, you don’t remember how long ago you walked into these woods with luke and gods you didnt even know if you’d walk back out. the one thing you did know however was that whatever luke was suggesting now, you’d never give into it.

“is this a joke? it has to be.” you let out a puzzled breath that you didn’t even register you were holding. the trees rustle against a gust of warmer wind and you furrow your eyebrows at luke. “join kronos? luke are you serious?” your voice comes out sounding more sour than intended.

“what? are you saying that the gods didn’t fail me? that my father does care?” luke’s voice raises, “you- !” his voice stops abruptly with a scoff, he was trying to hit you hard with a line like your dad doesnt care either! but oh boy would he be wrong. the way his face contorts and his fists clench you can tell he’s thinking harshly about something.

he let’s out a sigh and his irises dart quickly as he tries to think up something.

“darling, please. i need you. we can run away together, we can rule! we don’t need to be confined by the gates and the prophecies here! we can make our own, we can rule olympus, join me. it’s the only way.”

“luke you know that isn’t true,” you try and reason with him and your voice softens. it didn’t have to be like this, he didn’t have to be like this. “luke c’mon. talk to me. you don’t have to do this.” you go to take a step forward to touch him but his eyes meet yours in a sickly bitter glare.

his hand bolts to his sword and he reaches out pushing you to the ground, the point of the backbiter flush against your neck. the blade gleams in the moonlight, his reflection shining in the bronze.

“luke what is this?!” you breathe out shakily, your own sword trapped between the dirt and your hand.

“i’m sorry-“ he grieved down at you. “you weren’t listening to me.” luke runs his free hand through his brown curls.

“you need to come with me.” he presses the sword closer to your asophagus, “you are coming with me.”

the stars shine quietly down at the both of you. his heart broke a little by the way you looked at him. no butterflies present in your stomach. the only thing left were hollow cocoons of the once fluttering fleet of love.

“what happened to you luke?” your eyes squint at him holding back the tears that were threatening to fall down your cheeks and you tremble softly trying to understand what the fuck is going on. “we were so good to you.” your head shakes in disbelief. “luke i love you.”

his lip trembles and his eyebrows quiver at your words, he didn’t want this. he didn’t want to hurt you, luke tried to stop. he tried to supress the voice in his dreams egging him on, telling him that the gods were the evil ones. but the promise of letting you and him live on a beach house just like you mentioned was too good to pass up.

the more he gave in and the more he listened, the promises and the wishes became faded, the need to destroy the gods and to get back at his dad became irresistable. he had forgotten the most important thing, you.

in this moment he tried to convince himself that this was what needed to happen, luke needed to protect you. he needed to bring you with him and he needed you to trust him but the way your eyes scrutinized him tore his flesh from his bones and his heart right out.

before he could withdrawl the blade from your neck group of voices barked out from within the trees.

i saw them go this way!

quick! find them!

“come with me please. we don’t need the gods, my love. we need eachother! dionysus doesn’t love you like i do, i’ll always love you but once you leave camp you’ll become like all the rest of his children; forgotten.” luke blurts out demandingly and worriedly.

“forgotten?” anger grows on your face and luke knows he fucked up. yeah you didn’t inherit your dad’s eyes but gods, did you inherit his temper.

“i love you.” luke chants over and over his voice becoming more pleading but the more he says it the less he looks like he means it.

“me or kronos luke?” you grit out angrily and you observe as his face drops. as his eyes widen and look around nervously. you repeat your question and you’re shoulders tense, anger building up quickly.

the footsteps of campers near the two of you and the lights from their torches grow bigger and the calls of your name become more clear as they near. the concerned voices of your brother’s increasing in volume as luke stares at you in silence.

he looks to the lights of campers and back to you. luke opens his mouth to say something, the grip on the hilt of his sword slipping but he is quick to tighten it again.

luke turns on his heel and pushes off it attempting his escape, your own eyelids widen now and your jaw clenches. you reach out trying to pull him back, stupidly you grab the blade of his sword causing you to cut yourself. you bite back a pained groan and you give him a filthy glare as you clutch back your hand.

“coward!” you yell out, “fucking come back here!” you pull yourself up. before you could chase after him a hand grabs your shoulder.

your father peers down at you worry prominent on his eyes and he pulls you in tightly. “you kids,” he sighs into your hair lovingly and he squeezes you close “what am i going to do.” he whispers anxiously.

you’re sat around the table at the big house, your palm was attended to by an apollo kid quickly and your uninjured hand is held tightly by your brother, castor.

“luke is the lightning thief.” chiron grits out, his hine leg stomping.

you’re mind wanders off as you lose your focus on the conversation.

lukes words ran around your mind, ‘join me’, ‘you will be forgotten’, ‘i love you.’

you didn’t believe a word he said.

your lip trembles and your eyes close tightly stopping the tears from cascading down your face.

luke was the boy that would lean down to kiss your hands, the boy to smile at you so sweetly, the boy that would follow you into the dark. the way he looked at you so sourly and the way he gritted out his words.

that wasnt the luke you fell inlove with, that luke is gone. that luke packed up his things and took your heart with him.

and you’d be dammed to let him keep it.

@yawneon

#percy jackson #pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #luke my crazy bf #charlie bushnell #charlie my bf #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan i can fix you

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zoekeating · 2 months

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Dear Listeners,

It’s winter break here in Vermont so my son and I have been out on the slopes every day. For many years I have stayed away from fast slidey sports because I was afraid of injuring my hands. If my hands don’t work, how do I make music? But among the many bits of advice I’ve gotten in my parenting journey, “be into what your kid is into” has been one of the best. My lad needed someone to ride the lifts with and I needed to overcome my fear and learn how to fall properly, so here I am.

I found that skiing is not all that different from rollerblading, which I learned to do in Central Park the summer of my junior year. I brought the skates with me on my year abroad in Florence. On weekends there was this amazing city to explore but buses and museums and cafes cost money. And whenever I roamed the quiet streets and parks alone, I would be perpetually harassed, groped and even flashed by pathetic men. But rollerblading was free and, bonus, I am already quite tall, so with skates I was at least 6ft2in. No one ever messed with me on skates. I adapted to the cobblestones and explored all of Florence with exhilarating freedom.

One Sunday, as I was enjoying the expanses of asphalt in Parco delle Cascine, I came upon a group of folks on old-school rollerskates. They had a boombox and were dancing, just like the skaters of Central Park but without the sequined hot pants. They waved me over and exclaimed over my weird skates. They invited me to join them and for the rest of the school year, I spent every Sunday afternoon I could with the rollerskaters. We would gather, dancing and skating around obstacles, and once we had critical mass, tear off along the Arno and into the old city. We’d skate past the David, circle the Piazza della Signoria multiple times and whizz down the marble collanade along the Piazza Republica, ending in a bar, still on skates, for an espresso or aperativo. Those are some of my best memories of my year in Florence.

I continued the skating when I moved to San Francisco, zooming most days through Golden Gate Park to the beach and back again. Sometimes I’d join a similar group of mad skaters on Friday nights to roll fearlessly down hills and through tunnels. Skating was always a great source of joy. But then I moved away from the paved environment of the city and I transitioned to music full time. After acquiring a broken finger from an Evil Door and being shocked at how much that tiny injury impacted my ability to play, I quit skating.

Fast forward to Vermont. Like many people did during the pandemic, I got back on skates except this time with padding, wrist guards and a helmet. And then, as my boy learned to snowboard, I learned to ski. We still ride the lifts together but now he zips down black diamond trails while I ski carefully down the easy ones. He is mystified as to how I can bear to do the same runs over and over but I like it that way. It’s like a meditation. I focus on perfecting my technique and try to make each turn better than the last. It feels similar to one of the things I enjoy about playing the cello, which is noticing tiny details and gradually polishing them. How can I improve this one phrase that I have played thousands of times? It never gets old or boring for me.

I hope it never gets boring for you either! Next week I’ll get back to work improving my old songs and figuring out to play some of my new ones in time for my concerts in March.

March 15 - ArtYard in Frenchtown,NJ

March 16 - Underground Arts in Philadelphia, PA opening up for my old friend The Sleepytime Gorilla Museum

March 17 - Le Poisson Rouge in NYC

March 21 - St John’s Cathedral at the Big Ears Festival in Knoxville, TN

And one more

April 6 - Unitarian Univeralist Church in Burlington VT, accompanied by mesmerizing visuals by Alex Reeves

also, outside my solo work on April 7 I’ll be a part of composer Randal Pierce’s ensemble, performing his live soundtrack to George Méliès’ silent cinematic masterpiece, A Trip to the Moon

6:30 and 8:30pm shows

More about all the events happening in Burlington around the eclipse

Thank you for listening and please wear a helmet when you are going fast.

celloly yours, Z

#cello #eclipse #bigears #rollerblading #skiing

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straberrycore · 10 months

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Comfort

Henry bower x soft poc reader

Warning: talk of violence and slurs

(Fluff/kissing/emotional/cringe/anger/violence/fluffsmut/warmsmut)

Disclaimer: pls do not laugh at this peace of hot garbage I know it’s bad so pls be nice this is my first story and if the views are bad then it will be my last thx very much.

When me and Henry first met at the pond the pond was a silent secluded junk infested pond era with a water fall down the stream in the woods he pushed me in the water called me a "nigger" and threw a rock at me and told me to never come back to "his" pond.

but that wasn't going to stop me so I went back again and again and each time he would either choke me and tell me to never come back, push me up against a tree and tell me he was going to hurt me or push me in to the water once almost drowning me by pulling my just pressed hair I had for easter Sunday church and dunking me into the water.

but I wasn't going to just leave I found this place first and it was going to be mines.

but one day I went back again and he saw me sitting in the back of a abandoned red rusty truck

he looked at me his eyes were watery and red like he had been crying.

he balled his fist up his knuckles were red and scraped up

his right eye was a light purple visibly starting to slowly turn into a deep purpleish black.

he took a deep breath, blowed it out and let his fists go dropping his head he then started to climb into the back of the truck with me.

he sat across from me with his head held low and his hands in his lap.

"what's wrong with you" I said low and softly with concern in my voice.

"none of your damn business nigger" he responded lowly almost like a whisper with anger and resentment in his voice.

I could tell his anger was not pointed towards me like he was mad at something else.

I slowly crawled up to him between his legs and once I was close enough i slowly grabbed his head gently with both my hands, turned his head ,sideways and laid his head on my chest.

I wrapped my arms around his head to keep him close with my arms propped on his shoulders I played his his hair as my hands reach the top of his head.

I knew he probably wanted to pull away choke me or put me through some kind of torture for touching him.

but I was genuinely surprised when he put his arms around my slim waist his arms resting on my hips and I was in a even greater deal of shock when he put his legs between my spreaded legs, pulled me up on his lap and slowly started to push me down.

like he wanted me to sit on his lap..... so that is what I did I sat on his lap my legs straddling him as I sat face forward on his lap his head still laid on my chest.

we sat like that for a good hour just me hugging him lowly humming a song the warm afternoon sun shining on the pond water and us. him taking slow deep breaths as he had a fist full on my white summer dress that had a flower pattern all over it.

this was the most calm and relaxed I had ever seen Henry he's usually bulling little kids or yelling slurs at mike.

if the kids from school, my parents or the rest of the bowsers gang saw us like this it would be the end of both are reputations.

his reputation of being the scary, hardcore, heartless, evil, bully, badass, psychopath would be demolished.

and my reputation of me the nice, sweet, thoughtful, caring, Christian, good girl would be completely over with.

just by being seen with each other.

my dad would kill me if he knew I was with the the psychopath racist kid 'Henry bowers!" right now

but honestly it’s a complete shock to be with him the way I am right now and not have him spitting slurs at me and being a jerk

i then pulled away and picked his head up to look at me

"are you ok henry" I whispered

He then looked at me his black eye eventually turning fully black and his eyes were low like he was sleepy

"I don't want to talk about it" he said in a whisper he then moved me off his lap and got out the truck

" should go it's getting pretty late" he said lowly

I got out after him and watch him start to slowly step away and take a few steps in to the woods

as I watch him something came over me

"henry !" I yelled I was a little taken back by my out burst seeing as I yelled before I could think of something to say.

he turned around and I sprinted up to him going on my tippy toes and kissing him on his cheek.

his face slowly turned red, he started to scratch the back of his head and that signature side smile he does came up on his face he looked a little embarrassed

"what was that for" he spoke sheeply still scratching his head

"I know that you were probably hurting a minute ago so I wanna say I hope your ok and that what ever is wrong it will get better" I said sincerely and slowly started to babble on

by this point his face went back to normal the same old "I don't give a fuck face" and by this point I was babbling about emotions and stuff.

but I was taken aback when he moved forward and kissed me on the lips

his lips were thin,soft and surprisingly warm.

I didn't know what I was doing I was just kissing him based off movies and times I secretly kissed my pillow and I guess that was ok because he was responding with the same moves.

the kiss then got sloppy and wet are mouths making up a good amount of saliva I closed my eyes only for them to shoot open when I fell his tongue go in my mouth.

by then I pull myself away from him and wipe the saliva off my mouth

I look up at him to see he had that smug smile on his face but it then suddenly changed "if you tell anyone what just happened I will chock you the fuck out Mackenzie. I swear to fucking god.

I nodded my head and he turned around and walked away in to a little path in the woods

I wasn't really shocked about the chocking part just at the fact he didn't call me a nigger and said my actual name.

as I walked away in the direction of my home i slowly started to realize I might have a little itsy bitsy, Teeny weeny crush on Henry bowers

oh god i probably sound like a psychopath or an idiot having a crush on a guy like him means your either cursed or you hate yourself.

either way I don't know how to explain it or form it into words but I do have a crush and i'm looking forward to the next time he kisses me

*******************************************************

when I got home my dad obviously wanted to know where I was so I told him I was at the arcade with my friends

he understood but was still a little upset that I got home late saying i could never know what could happen to me getting home late by myself.

I rolled my eyes and went to my room putting on a more comfortable outfit

just as I was hanging my dress I saw a very small blood stain on the back of it were Henry was gripping it the blood must have came from his knuckles I take it off the hook and immediately put it in the washing machine hoping for the best.

I then walked to the dinner table hearing my name be called for dinner

I sat at the dinner table eating my meatloaf listening to my baby sister talk about her day "what games did you play at the arcade sweetheart" my dad suddenly asked with interest

panicked for a good second till something popped in my head

"oh you know the usual Pac-Man and donkey Kong a little defender" I said naming all the popular games I could think of

my dad nodded his head in approval as he took a bite of meatloaf

*******************************************************

just yesterday Henry bowers kissed me and since then he can't stop looking at me

just this morning walking in to school he was staring at me while he stood over Eddie Kaspbrak.

in class I can feel his dark black psychopath eyes on me and when I turned back he was still looking at me

I gotta say I'm a little scared but I honestly can't wait to go too the pond today.

#henry bowers x reader #henry bowers #bowers gang #it movie #x poc reader #fluff smut #kissing

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alpaca-clouds · 7 months

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Mythologic Geekery: Ba'al

Given that I now have the theory that he might play into Nocturne - and the fact I wanted to speak about Abrahamitic and Semitic mythology this and next week either way... LET ME TALK BA'AL!

So, first things first: Ba'al originally was a title within several of the semitic languages, being best translated with "Lord". So several male gods used the honorific over the time. But within both Babylon and also the Canaanite culture the name became mostly associated with the god Hadad. (While the Phoenicians associated the name with El(ohim) - but I am gonna talk about Elohim next week and he is a bit different, because he never became a demon.)

Hadad was a good mainly of weather (especially storms) and of fertility, being associated with the harvest and agriculture in general. Statues of Hadad were also used in fertility rituals.

From Ba'al Hadad came Ba'al as a god on his own. And while he was usually not the head god of a pantheon, he very much fulfilled the same role as Zeus in the pantheon. Being association with weather and these things. Interesting enough he had also a reverse version of the same kinda myth like Persephone associated with him: According to this myth the hot and dry summer months were the time of the year he was forced to live in the underworld.

What happened, though, with the Hebrew culture was that YHW subsumed the same role within the pantheon that Ba'al originally fulfilled. So he basically took that role and on the longterm subplanted Ba'al. And when the Abrahamitic culture turned towards Monotheism around YHW, Ba'al first became one of the false idols. Those idols that the folks prayed to in the desert while Moses was on the mountain. (Also Ba'al was among the idols people in Mekka prayed too that Mohammed then worked against.)

So, when Judaism took of they used Ba'al to build out their demonology. Now, again, Ba'al is technically a title, but a lot of people do agree that the fact that the demon got called Ba'al Zebub (Lord of Flies) was for the reason that Ba'al was the god they were trying to subplant.

Now technically Ba'al Zebub also references another god (Ekron). Now, the role of Ba'al Zebub (or how you might more easily recognize the name: Beelzebub). Within early Judaist sources Ba'al Zebub is mostly associated with death and sickness. Hence also the name: Lord of Flies.

As mythology shifts over time, by the time of the Testament of Solomon Ba'al Zebub was called "the Prince of Demons", who also was said to once have been an angel who rebelled against God for which he was cast into hell. And yes, if you think about Luzifer here: This was probably the source for that. I will talk more about Luzifer next week.

And then came Christianity. While within the gospels Ba'al Zebub was still in the same role of "prince of demon", later Christian theology started to decide that he and Satan were the same character. Something that happened around the same time that Satan became seen as more and more "evil" (something he is not within the original Hebrew mythology). And the Christian theology turned Ba'al Zebub into Beelzebub, as which we still have him around to this day.

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #mythologic geekery #mythology #christian mythology #christianity #abrahamic religions #demonology #canaanite #phoenician

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dragoneyes618 · 1 year

Text

Nothing is as Simple as Black and White

Inspired by the “What if Bruno Madrigal is Carlos de Vil’s father” idea by me and @silverloreley plus this fanfiction by @silverloreleysfanfics.

Carlos hovered nervously at the outskirts of the village.

It looked like a nice little village. Friendly. Peaceful. People bustling around on their everyday business, children playing.

Completely foreign, for an Isle boy.

He scratched Dude between the ears. It had been a hassle, bringing him all the way here - two plane flights, a short boat ride, and a lot of walking, not necessarily in that order - but in Carlos’ opinion it was worth it.

“It’s going to be fine,” he told Dude, rubbing his fur. Dude growled softly in contentment.

“Right,” Carlos continued, emboldened. “We’ll just go in and ask directions to the Madrigal family….there’s a bunch of them, it shouldn’t be too hard to find one…and then we’ll just - well, I’ll just say who I am and ask them to stay and give them the letters he…Oh, forget it,” he said abruptly. His arm dropped to his side. “Who am I kidding?”

Dude barked cheerfully, as though to say, “Me!”

“They don’t even know me,” Carlos muttered. “They probably don’t even know I exist. If they did they would have showed up at Auradon Prep like Snow White did for Evie. They’ll just kick me out and I’ll have to find somewhere else to live for the summer.”

It was hot. He was thirsty. There were birds singing in the trees - even after months in Auradon, he still found that odd - and beautiful, vibrant flowers grew everywhere.

This wouldn’t have been nearly so bad if one of his friends or cousins were with him. But his cousins, of course, were still on the Isle. Carlos had promised to try to get them off, just as Jay had to Jade and Mal had to Hadie and Evie had to Dizzy. But so far, nothing was doing. Being friends with the, admittedly extremely busy, king of Auradon didn’t have as many advantages as Carlos had thought it would. And just being in Auradon didn’t mean they had the power to change things. The newly-arrived and technically on paper not actually in Auradon Freddie Facilier was already getting very impatient.

And his friends weren’t there, because for the summer they weren’t allowed to just live in the dorms. (“We live there the rest of the time!” Mal had argued, but Fairy Godmother had been adamant. “It’s not like the buildings are unfit for human habitation! There’s enough food and running water and plumbing and everything! Why are you looking at me like that? We won’t be lonely, we’ll have each other! We can even catch up on all our schoolwork since we’ll literally be living in the school! What do you mean we need adult supervision and stable family structures?”)

So for the summer, they were all staying with whatever family they had in Auradon. Which wasn’t much.

Evie was staying with Snow White, who was technically her stepsister. From what Carlos had seen so far, the time Snow had come to school to meet Evie and from whatever Evie mentioned about the occasional texts they’d exchanged since then, they seemed to be getting along all right. But then, in a way the Evil Queen was Snow’s mother as well.

Jafar had no known family, so Jay was staying with Coach Jenkins.

Maleficent also had no known family - at least, no known family that could be contacted and was willing to. Unless Mal wanted to wander into the wilderness in Auroria and wait for any fae kin to find her, she was alone, so Ben had convinced his parents to let her stay with them for the summer.

Which left Carlos. The only one of them who had biological family anywhere in Auradon.

Ben had been surprised. “I thought all the de Vils were on the Isle,” he’d said.

“We are,” Carlos had said. “I don’t mean my mother’s family.”

Now, Carlos took a deep breath. “Come on, boy,” he murmured to Dude, slinging his backpack, which contained everything he owned, onto his shoulder. “We might as well get this over with.”

Mirabel spun as she danced in the street, laughing. “Come on, dance with me,” she called, and three small figures (usually there would be four, but Tía Pepa had informed Camilo that it was his turn to watch Antonio for the day) ran after her, spinning and dancing to the best of their ability. Which wasn’t much, considering none of them were older than six, but their enthusiasm more than made up for it.

Mirabel liked spending time with the little kids of Encanto. Children were so sweet and adorable and enthusiastic. She played with them and made up games with them and told them stories, and they told her all about the events going on in their lives, competing for her attention, and at least this way she was doing something useful, right?

“Faster!” Mirabel shouted, reaching out her arms; Juancho and Cecilia and Alejandra grabbed her hands - well, Cecilia and Juancho did, Alejandra held both of their hands - and they all spun in a circle until they fell down dizzy, giggling.

“That was fun!” Juancho announced. “Let’s do it again!”

Mirabel stretched in the warmth of the sun and began to sit up.

Her head hit the dirt as she fell over backwards, bowled over by a heavy weight that had materialized on her stomach. She yelped, her vision full of brown fur. Something warm and wet lapped at her face.

The children were laughing and shrieking.

“Dog! Dog!”

“Mirabel! Are you okay?”

“I wanna pet the dog!”

Someone shouted in English, accompanied by running footsteps.

The dog sprawled atop Mirabel shifted, ears perking up. Mirabel tried to sit up again, pushing the dog into her lap and wiping the dog spittle off her face with her sleeve.

A boy of about Mirabel’s age was running forward, his face panicked, calling out in English; Mirabel caught the words no and stop. The dog leapt off Mirabel and bounded over to the boy, tail wagging, as though expecting to be rewarded with treats. The boy gave it an angry look, gesturing to Mirabel, then looked at her nervously as she stood up and brushed her dress off.”

“I’m sorry,” he said in stilted, accented, but understandable Spanish. “He doesn’t usually do this. I am very sorry. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, but he still looked afraid, like he thought she was going to be furious at him. “No, really, I’m fine! No harm done.”

“Is that your dog?” Cecilia asked.

“Of course it is!” Juancho interrupted before the boy could answer.

The boy looked startled. “Oh - yes, this is my dog. Sorry. Um-”

“Can we pet him?” Alejandra wanted to know.

“Oh - sure - he liked being petted - just be gentle-”

He’d barely gotten a few words out before the dog was laying down with a supremely contented look on its face while the three children gave him belly rubs.

“You’d think they’d never seen a dog before,” Mirabel commented fondly.

“No?” the boy asked.

“I mean, they have, they just get really excited over, well, everything,” Mirabel explained. “Anyway, so…you’re new here?” Clearly, he was; the Encanto didn’t get many visitors, so strangers were instantly recognizable.

“Um, yeah, I’m….My name is Carlos.”

Carlos. That was a Spanish name, but Carlos himself didn’t appear to be. He didn’t look it, and while his Spanish, while fairly good for a foreigner, wasn’t fluent, and his accent wasn’t Colombian either. Perhaps his parents had died when he was young, and he’d been raised elsewhere?

Enough speculation. He was a visitor to the Encanto, and she was the only Madrigal present and so must give him a good impression of the Madrigals and the Encanto. Although that was kind of hard to do with mud all over your skirt.

“I’m Mirabel,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

Carlos blinked. “I - oh - thanks,” he said. “Um, I’m actually looking for something…someone, I mean, a few people….Would you happen to know where the Madrigal family is?”

Oh. Well. That made sense. To anyone outside the Encanto, the Madrigals were the only notable members inside it, what with the magic most of them possessed. Maybe he needed help, help that only her family’s magic could give him.

“Right here!” Juancho piped up from where he was scratching Carlos’ dog behind the ears.

“What?” Carlos said.

“Mirabel’s a Madrigal,” Alejandra explained.

“Oh!” Carlos, if anything, looked even more nervous. Which was ridiculous, really; no one would ever be wary of her. Not when there was Luisa-Who-Can-Lift-Anything or Dolores-Who-Knows-All-Your-Secrets or Tía Pepa-Armed-With-Lightning (Okay, so Camilo’s imitations were a little funny, she had to admit) to be faced.

Or, once, Tío Bruno. But no one talked about him.

“So….do you want to meet my family?” Mirabel prompted. He’d have to, if he needed their help, but he looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Um…yes?” Carlos almost squeaked. “Please? If it isn’t too much trouble?”

“Of course it’s not! Come on, Casita - my house - is this way.”

Mirabel led the way. Carlos, who kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, followed just behind her, and his dog right behind him, accompanied by the three kids who had apparently decided that said dog was currently their most favorite thing in the world. (“Look! He licked my hand! He likes me! Look, he lets me pet him! That’s nothing, he lets all of us pet him! Ooh, look, he’s smiling at me! Dogs don’t smile! Yes they do! Isn’t he smiling, Juancho?”)

“So, um…Mirabel.” Carlos swallowed. “Could you…tell me about your family?”

“Sing him the song!” Alejandra called from behind them.

They both turned. “The song?” Carlos asked.

Mirabel shrugged. “A while ago I made up a little song about my family, to sing for the kids around town. I guess they liked it.”

“We LOVED it!” Juancho announced, jumping up and down; Mirabel wondered if he’d been at the coffee again. “Sing it again! Please!”

“You have to sing it, for him,” Cecilia pointed out. “Because he doesn’t know your family.”

Mirabel gave a half-laugh. “Oh, all right, but only if we keep walking.” Somewhat self-consciously, she began her song.

She sang of how her family had been blessed, how they used their gifts to keep the Encanto safe and flourishing. She sang of her Abuela who led the family and the village, who had received the miracle so many years ago, through her own love and grief; of Tía Pepa, who could control the very weather with her emotions, calling up a storm in a rage or a rainbow in bliss; of Tío Bruno, the prophet long gone (Carlos flinched); of her mother, the kindest, gentlest soul in the Encanto, with the gift of healing to match; of her father and Tío Felix, who both proclaimed that they’d become the happiest men alive the moment they’d married their respective wives.

Moving on to her generation, she began with Dolores, who could hear a pin drop from the other side of the village. Then on to Camilo, who could change shape at will and perfectly imitate anybody he saw. Antonio, soon to receive his gift. Señorita Perfecta Isabela, beautiful and graceful, who could grow any kind of flower, anywhere. Luisa, gifted with superstrength.

“Wow,” Carlos said when Mirabel had finished. “That’s….a lot.”

“It is,” Mirabel agreed wholeheartedly.

“So what’s your gift?”

Mirabel’s heart sank down to her toes. She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask that.

“Mirabel didn’t get one,” Cecilia informed him.

“No?”

“Nope!” Juancho chimed in. “She’s the only Madrigal not to get one! No one knows why.”

“Oh,” he said. “Uh. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she assured him. It made sense that he would ask. The questions - at least the first questions, the ones of “What’s your gift?” and “You didn’t get a gift?” didn’t bother her; they were only to be expected. What did bother her were the ones like “So why do you think you didn't get a gift?”

“Anyway!” she said with some relief. “Here we are!”

Mirabel led him into the courtyard. Juancho, Cecilia, and Alejandra offered to stay at the gate and watch his dog. Carlos said, in English, “Stay, Dude!” to his dog, who plopped himself right down for some more belly rubs.

“Mirabel!” her mother called, coming through the door. “Where have you b- Oh! Who’s this?” She gave Carlos a surprised, almost spooked look.

“This is Carlos,” Mirabel said. “He’s from…” She realized that Carlos hadn’t actually told her where he was from. “Anyway, he wanted to talk to all of you, and I said I would bring him to meet you? He needs our help.” Carlos didn’t contradict her.

Mama blinked several times. “Hello, Carlos. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry - it’s just that you reminded me of someone for a moment. Come right in; Mirabel, bring him to the living room, Abuela will see him there.”

Mirabel led him through the hallway, past Tío Felix, whose eyes widened; past Dolores, who poked her head out of a doorway, squeaked, and pulled herself back in; past her father, who dropped the stack of plates he was holding and shooed them both away when they tried to help him pick them up; past Luisa, who was juggling dumbbells; and past the kitchen, where her father had deposited his miraculously unbroken plates and was whispering loudly to her mother “Doesn’t he look a bit like-” before finally reaching the living room.

Sometimes she wished she’d been born into a normal family.

“You can sit if you want,” she offered. She didn’t usually entertain guests and had no clue of what to do.

Carlos jumped a little, said “Thanks,” and sat down gingerly on the very edge of the sofa.

Abuela walked in, took one look at Carlos, and demanded “Who are you?”

Carlos quailed, but drew himself up and answered “Carlos de Vil.”

Devil? Wasn’t that the English for Diablo? What kind of name was that?

“A-are y-you Doña Alma Madrigal?” Carlos stuttered. Mirabel thought he was trembling. He looked terrified.

“I am,” Abuela answered, but before she could say anything else Carlos reached into his pocket and withdrew several grubby, folded pieces of paper; sealed envelopes. He unfolded one, then another, and handed that one to Abuela.

“This is for you,” was all he said.

The envelope was labeled, simply, Mamá.

"Oh, Dios mío!” Mirabel gasped. “You’re C!”

“You’re C?” Camilo asked. “You must be!”

“He’s C!” Dolores agreed. “Wow, I never thought we’d actually meet him!”

Carlos looked overwhelmed, like he quite wished no one would be paying any attention to him. Unfortunately, the exact opposite was the case. “C?”

The entire family was crowded into the kitchen. Mama and Tía Pepa were hugging each other, weeping about their poor Brunito, the letters Carlos had delivered to them from him clutched in their hands. Abuela was sitting in her seat, reading her own letter over and over, as though trying to discern some hidden meaning in the words.

Carlos himself was sitting at the table with the heaping plateful of food Julieta had demanded he eat before interrogating him about his father and ripping open her own letter to read. So far, he’d eaten very little of it.

Papa and Tío Felix were huddled together, whispering.

Mirabel and her sisters and cousins were all crowded around poor Carlos.

“You got a door,” Isabela explained. “To your room in Casita, and you would have received your gift when you opened it. It had your initial on it, so we knew you existed, and that your name started with C. But that was all we knew about you. And you weren’t there to open it, so your door disappeared.” She hesitated. “You do know about the doors and the gifts, right?”

Carlos nodded jerkily. “He told me. But I thought it was just a story, then.”

Antonio interrupted them all to come up and wrap his arms around Carlos and the chair Carlos was sitting in. “A new cousin!” he proclaimed. “Hi, new cousin! I’m Antonio!”

“Uh - hi, Antonio,” Carlos said, sitting very stiffly and ill at ease, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Do we also get to meet a new tía?” Antonio wanted to know, still keeping his small arms wrapped around Carlos’ stomach.

“What?” Dolores asked.

“If we have a new cousin,” Antonio explained, “then we also have a new tia! Is she visiting, too? Can we meet her?” He looked around expectantly, as though waiting for the cousins’ new tia to come walking in.

“No!” Carlos snapped, and then again, calmer, gingerly removing Antonio’s arms from they were wrapped around him, “No. You won’t meet her. You can’t meet her. She’s not here.”

Mirabel remembered when Carlos’ door had appeared, only about a year after her own failed ceremony. She’d been so excited, because she’d thought she would finally be getting a gift, after all. But then the door hadn’t even been for her.

She’d been jealous, at first. She had been born and raised in Casita and got no gift or room at all, while the cousin the rest of them knew nothing about would have gotten a room and gift of his own - or would have had, if he’d been there to open his door. But he hadn’t been, so his door had faded as well.

But she’d also felt a strange kinship. After all, the mysterious C was also a giftless Madrigal. There had been no C to open the door. No C to receive a gift. She wasn’t the only Madrigal without a gift, then.

Every year, the Madrigal cousins marked the date the door had appeared as C’s birthday. It was a day of tense silences, a day to be lost in thought, just like the triplets’ birthday was, and Mirabel’s birthday, and a random day near the beginning of November that they had eventually realized was the day Tío Bruno had been taken away.

She’d always wondered if one day, somehow, she would get to meet the mysterious C. And now, here he was.

This is a week or so before Antonio receives his gift.

I figure that Carlos would know some Spanish because if and when Bruno was present in his childhood, he would have spoken it to him. Also, once he found out he’s getting sent to Encanto for the summer, he would have tried to learn some; he’s smart, he’s picked up at least the basics by now.

As an aside, according to Return to the Isle of the Lost, Carlos’ middle name is Oscar. And what was Bruno’s name originally in some early concept art? Oscar.

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rosenfey · 11 months

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— oc tag game;

↳ was tagged by the ever so talented @jozstankovich, thank you so much! ♡ incredibly pretty picrew credit here! ♡

➺ FAVORITE OC:

(as of right now) FEYLITH ARUNVEL • eso

I’ve been on an eso hyperfixation for a while now and Feylith makes me so happy, she is currently my main comfort oc and I am rotating her in my mind like in a microwave at all times. She is actually a part of an extensive family of ocs I made for eso and its youngest member (age-wise) as of now. Raised in a Telvanni mushroom tower by two mothers and being the youngest of three sisters, she is generally shy and aloof, but has a kind heart. She is a trained mycologist and alchemist and loves travelling across Tamriel cataloguing foreign fungi and flora; yet she always finds herself entangled in some adventure or another. She is my main eso oc and I ship her with Verandis because he deserves some happiness in the world. :3c

+ more under the cut!

➺ NEWEST OC:

SELENE ARUNVEL • eso

Speaking of the Arunvel family, Selene is Feylith’s aunt, a powerful mage and a member of the Psijic order. She specializes in researching dwemer time magic and she married a noblewoman out of Shornhelm, Rivenspire. Her manor is often a summer holiday destination for her sister and her daughters.

➺ OLDEST OC:

ELINOR LAVELLAN • dragon age: inquisition

She is technically not my oldest oc, but I don’t really talk about my old original novel on here anymore. She is the oldest video game oc that I still keep even though she has been revamped a couple of times. She is a necromancer and a usually lone and withdrawn scholar. She never really fit in with her clan much, keeping spirits and forest animals as her company. She romances Solas because I love suffering and I am all here for the big bad wolf / soft and kind woman vibe I just want to punch Solas in the mouth and also kiss him.

➺ MEANEST OC:

ODETTA D’PAVENSEI • tyranny + original verse

It’s not that she is mean by choice or intent, Odetta simply cannot stand fools, tardiness, or incompetence. She has a direct goal in her mind that she will follow no matter what, even if it means leaving a sea of corpses in her wake. She is brutally honest, follows a personal code and has a sense of lawfulness around her. She believes she is doing the right thing and she has no time to consider other people’s feelings. She is also a very hot evil mommy and she can step on me anytime.

➺ SOFTEST OC:

FAERENE ROSENHALL • pathfinder: wrath of the righteous + original verse

She is my go-to oc and an inspiration behind a lot of others. In fact, she could be considered as a base source I base a lot of my other pink soft and gentle ocs around or a multi-verse oc. She is a fey abandoned at birth and raised by a mortal family. It goes without saying that in p:wotr she chooses the Azata mythic path. She has been known for having very vivid dreams and Desna often contacted her through visions, leading her towards Kenabres and her destiny. Faerene’s story is a story about self-discovery and realizing one’s self-worth. In a way, she is an inspiration to myself as well.

➺ MOST ALOOF/STANDOFFISH OC:

DOROTHEA LEFEBVRE • dragon’s dogma: dark arisen

I don’t talk about Dorothea much, or dragon’s dogma for that matter, but she is very dear to my heart. She has selective mutism and often keeps to herself. Known as The Lady of Moths, she has a peculiar ability that allows her to speak to moths (specifically, and only moths) who often whisper the events happening around the world to her. She and Grigori, the big bad dragon, are both connected souls and partners destined to clash together again and again, only to earn a brief respite in the afterlife before the Cycle begins anew.

➺ DUMBEST (AFFECTIONATE) OC:

FAY TEMPLETON • fallout 4

It’s not that she is actually dumb (she is a quite smart mechanic but there are different types of intelligence, obviously), it’s the stubbornness and the absolutely crazy and strange drive which propels her to dive into any dangerous situation with her head forwards, guns blazing. Fay has strong determination to not let the Wasteland break her and her enthusiasm is contagious. She is here to turn the Commonwealth into a better place and helps people in need without thinking. Also, she is physically impervious to flirting and Hancock needs to blatantly tell her he likes her only for her to go “Ah he is just nice.”

➺ SMARTEST OC:

ALETHEA CÉLESTE • DIVINITY: ORIGINAL SIN II

Alethea is one of my favorite ocs of all time. She is a plant-based necromancer and a healer who lives in a witchy cottage in the middle of the woods. Ostracized by her community, she has been keeping to herself for several centuries, only her undead ancestors keeping her company. She has used this time well. Being a seeker of knowledge, Alethea managed to collect a lot of books and scriptures on a variety of subjects. Despite being a necromancer, she is quite a talented healer as well, folks seeking her for her remedies from time to time.

➺ HORNIEST OC:

➺ OC YOU’D BANG:

➺ OC YOU’D BE BEST FRIENDS WITH IRL: I feel like I would get along well with all of them but especially Feylith, Farene and Alethea sound very much like me.

↳ tagging, if they want to: @fantasmagoriam, @cryptcombat, @theviridianbunny, @brujah, @swanfey, @sephiratales, @shadowglens, @indorilnerevarine, @leviiackrman, @florbelles, @nokstella, @elluvians, @hermaeusmoras, @nocticulas, @baldurians, @nokstella, @lavampira, @aragorngf, @ehlnofaey, @lyriumrain + you!

#ambie got tagged #oc: feylith arunvel #oc: selene arunvel #oc: elinor lavellan #oc: odetta d'pavensei #oc: faerene rosenhall #oc: dorothea lefebvre #oc: fay templeton #oc: alethea céleste #thank you again for the tag it was lovely talking about my ocs again! reminds me of how much i miss doing just that ♥

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invested-in-your-future · 11 months

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Ironwood should have never been the villain

Hot take but I disagree.

I think Ironwood is perfect antagonist to showcase how fallible and flawed humanity can be. He is well meaning and he genuinely believes in his mission and goals and the idea of Greater Good. But he's also someone who grew up in post-world-war times in a country that's 100% was the bad guy before and is in quite a fickle state. Its no wonder he would strive to be better and desperately try to prove himself, even at the cost of his own wellbeing (oh look the theme of self sacrifice again and the toxic notion of "heroism" based upon society's expectations). Writing him as rigid by-the-book General that is willing to do whatever is necessary to keep the fragile peace going makes 100% sense. But inability to change and improvise should also be his flaw - while Ironwood sees threats that Ozpin is blind to, Ironwood genuinely does not realize the consequences and issues Ozpin sees in him.

I am of opinion that he was always intended to eventually "cross the line" and do something genuinely bad out of desperation and circumstance. The type of person that, when situation goes completely out of his control, would end up with him making decisions that are hard or impossible to come back from. A tragic case of a good intentions leading to worst decisions. A case study of human nature and the effect division, desperation and self destructive impulses can have upon it. And a thematic allusion of the real world's tendency to abandon war veterans and soldiers to their personal hell with no regard for their mental or physical wellbeing, after their country exploited them to the ultimate limit.

The issue however, just like with pretty much EVERYTHING in the show, is absolutely ZERO ACTUAL PROGRESSION. Its true for character relationships - Yang and Blake never actually getting to solve the issues that have been brewing since V3. Its true for characterization - Yang, Blake, Ruby, Weiss - all of them basically were given less than breadcrumbs so far rather than proper character writing - it took YEARS to acknowledge that Ruby might be traumatized and even that ended up with writing off trauma and character progression as NOT NEEDED "YOU ARE FLAWLESS" nonsense and Yang still has pretty much ZERO development in terms of her trauma (And Blake literally exists only as character design). It extends to the world itself too - time in Remnant only seems to move when there's a screentime given to a location - Come Volume 20, Glynda will still be vaguely standing around Vale and Mistral will still be exactly identical place as the team left it.

So its no surprise that that's true for character alignment too - Summer is either Best Mother Ever or Filthy Dishonest Liar, Raven is either uwusadregrets or Worst Mother Ever How Dare She. Even Salem is not immune to this as she literally has TWO phases of her backstory - "omg caring wife" and "I literally want to murder the entire world out of spite", with the awful flashback episode flipping the switch INSTANTLY between the two states. And that's true for Ironwood - there's no character arc. There's no actual genuine exploration of "road to hell is paved with good intentions", there's no moral conundrum. There's just a flip of the switch as plot demands. Its a Game of Thrones-esque situation where the writers wanted to do specific thing with the character but kind of forgot to do the reasonable build-up, so it just happens. THE BELLLLLLLLLS.

What I think should have happened is that Salem's stupid fortress of DOOM or relics or Cinder or Salem's Evil Troupe of Evil should have never played a role in Fall of Atlas. It should have been ALL Internal. Just Kingdom of Atlas imploding in on itself as consequence of Fall of Beacon and the worsening situation in the world. Make Atlas story arc ALL ABOUT power plays within Atlas, with different people having wildly different ideas on where to actually aim the army at and different characters having different ideas on how to bring back order to destabilized country. Just have the team be stuck in a situation that is few steps away from world war with different ways provided to solve it. In the end, lines are crossed and Atlas falls apart from it's own sense of self-importance, grandeur, paranoia, classism and nationalism and Ironwood, misguided and tragic, falls with the country he sacrificed everything for. The lead cast are left to wonder whether there was any other way to resolve this, but they'll never know. In this situation, willingly or unwillingly, they played the role of being the ones at the center of a Kingdom falling apart. What do they do now? Where do they go from here? Does each of them question actions that led them to this point in time? Do all of them arrive at the same conclusion?

I think to sell this its important to have Salem side to NEVER lift even a finger. The Story of Fall of Atlas is the story of division of humanity and Salem's side already did all they need to do with Beacon for that. Humanity are the ones that, as lyrics go, train their heroes and build their armies, and then with single moment, single event, they turn on each other and burn.

#rwby #rwde

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stormcrow513 · 2 years

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Hagging Out- Semtember 2022- Hand Baskets

@graveyarddirt

So as some of you know this month went off the rails on me almost immediately, with my cat Shy passing on the 8th, which is the day after my oldest sister who died birthday, and also childhood trauma, September fucking sucks for me already, so I tried my best to occupy myself with #haggingout but well this probably won't be my best entry just heads up going in, also I wanted to do a separate Autumn Equanox post but lost the spoons so I'm Hulk smashing em together hope that's alright Dirty

It was appropriately overcast on the Equinox this year, also check out my nails I've never had em this long before (I chewer) and this weeks the fist time I've painted em since I was like fourteen! Having em long was helping me detangle Shys fur, she also liked me runing em across her head, so I was motivated to not chew, I couldn't cut em or chew em right after she died so the other day I decided to paint em for spooky season, funnily the last time I painted they were probably black to,

I didn't do to much for the Autumn Equinox this year I was having a pretty bad brain day so I did offerings to the land, to the Horae (the seasons), to the Anemoi(the winds) asking for a wet winter, they've been to dry lately, and thanking them for the harvest I got/am getting,

that loaded backwards, but fuck it you get the idea, I gave oats and some tea that was starting to go bad, I figure rotting leaf juice is a good land offering, I also finished the last of my solstice/equinox working, I started December 2021 I finished September 2022, whew, and I almost forgot to do it too!

So while I still have some pumpkins on the vine mostly the harvest is winding down, here's my broom seeds!

The strawberries were in great form this year though if I'm honest there freaking me out a little, back you mangy vegetation! back I say!

And I'm so freaking proud of my broom this year, last year I only got a couple up, this year I got 20 sets of three seeds to come up, we did have an unfortunate bird attack so I had to rapidly cut the seeds down before I lost them,

Here's a shot before they'd all seeded and rippend, and then got mauled by evil little birds lol

honestly I think my backyard itself is my basket this year, I'm so amazed at the work ma and I have done to it, I told you all in my bed hagging out earlier it was struggling in the heat this year?

Well as soon as the temps dropped a bit the everything started blooming, the butterfly hit, and we've got like forty different bee species, I saw a fucking praying Mantus going up our lattice, my dudes I've NEVER seen one of those in nature! Also ma saw a fucking humming bird at our butterfly bush! Never seen that around here! Also also a humming brid mouth took residence here for like three weeks, I'd seen one up in the mountains once a few years ago got it on camera and was like the fuck is this, and it was so cool to have one just hanging around chillin on all the flowers and really liking the sunflowers that crop up every year,

This backyard was such a ugly waste land when we got here,

We'd moved in October 2017, I worked my ass off that first year getting all that wood bits off the ground to keep my dogs from cutting up there paws on it, there was also plastic crap under it and the dirt I pulled up, and there were these metal things around the rocks I had to get up also a paw slicing hazard, and don't even get me started on the fire pit, I went to move it thinking it was a ring with spikes pushed into the ground oh no these dumb fuckers varied a regular fucking big fire pit into the ground, anyway here she is now:

Only sad thing is the line tree died on us, there was a bad winter followed by fires near by that bolted out the sun a had a film of soot over everything, it tired but this extremely hot summer did her in,

All in all though while I can't fit my whole yard into my hand basket I've got broom and pumpkin etc and hopefully more next year!

I also was able to get a Hekate statue I've been wanting since last year! I spent all month praying over her while passing her through smoke,

And finally, with how upset Mittens has been with the loss of her sister ma and I after discussing and prayers to my Gods decided to go look for a companion for her, I found a pretty 4 month old kitten in a shelter nearby, we've been having her be a little apart so they can get used to each other and we've kept kitten in the bathroom at night, funnily enough we had a basket in there full of stuff and I walked in couldn't find her at first only to see she'd stuffed herself in it around the stuff, we ended up giving her a different basket cause she kept smacking her stomach on the hard rim and they'd recently fixed her, so ouchy stitches!

I've named her Circe, she's the third cat I've had whose name I plucked from Greek mythology

Does she count? She is in a basket, lol, also took me a bit to show y'all her cause I needed to get her added in to my protection spells,

actually does any of this count I had a little trouble trying to fit this one with where I'm at right now, anyway thank you for the challenge Dirty and for hosting these! Love to you dear♡

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gillianthecat · 2 years

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Thoughts while watching Love in the Air episode 8 (PrapaiSky 1):

~ Obviously they're going to return to that first illegal race to start this section - no question, everything was set up for that to happen. Yet I still feel inordinately proud of myself for predicting it. 😊

~ 🥺 Sky psyching himself up to follow Rain.

~ I don't think we've met Pakin yet? He keeps getting hyped as scary and I had the sudden thought that he's Sky's evil ex. But I don't think that would actually make sense.

~ What motorcycle adjacent company is sponsoring this, by the way? I wondered last time and then never looked into it.

~ Ooh. I think I like this moment of first eye contact - Prapai's interest and smirk, Sky's [puzzled?] stare. The musical cues there were effective.

~ I really really want to like these two together. Please Mame, don't fuck it up for me. Please.

~ I personally connect more with these actors and their chemistry, which makes them more fun to watch, but would also make any creepy parts harder for me to brush off. (Who am I kidding, I know there will be dubcon stuff, the only question is how much, how dubious, and for what percentage of their story.)

~ Sky! I love you. The way he gathers up his courage and grabs Prapai's collar. 💜

Ok. Well this kissing looks pretty fucking consensual so far (if I close my eyes and ignore the whole pressuring him into part.)

Ok. Yeah. That was hot. 🥵 😳 And Sky definitely looked like he was enjoying himself.

~ Ok why are we revisiting this entire scene with Rain and Puyu? Not what I'm here for. Oh maybe it's exposition about how powerful/dangerous the street race organizers are? (But we don't need the whole scene for that, musical cues, kiss and all. It takes away from the PrapaiSky momentum.)

~ Sky 🥺 Why are you sad?

~ But so far it feels like dubcon and pressure, not noncon, so it's tolerable to me. It helps that it's obvious that Sky enjoyed the sex, just doesn't trust Prapai (understandably!)

~ I hope this little nepotism baby at his desk in his suit is supposed to look like a kid playing dress up to go to his dad's office, because he does. Although he looks very good in the suit anyway.

~ Yes Sky! Ignore him and just walk out the door! I love you. 💜 (Shades of Sher from Fahlanruk)

~ I think I like this structure of both characters recalling the night before in flashes the next morning.

~ Prapai is smitten. It's adorable. And it feels true to me that he would be after that night.

~ Ooh. An entirely new character. Hello little brother. An odd conversation that I'm just going to ignore, but we establish that Prapai likes being single and free.

~ I'm starting to feel hopeful that Prapai will have his own character arc and have to change in some way. But not confident.

~ Oh, Sky 🥺

~ I do like that LITA is continuing this structure of their parallel lives in montage. And that we're revisiting some of the university moments from Sky's perspective.

~ Ok. Time skip.

~ SIG!!!! Sig Sig Sig 🥳 (And possible support for a Sig-Som background romance? 👀)

~ Long suffering Sky. My baby.

~ Random non-Sky lover, and Prapai is not feeling it.

~ SIG!!! He continues to be great 🥰 And it's nice to see a more serious but still weirdo side to him. Mediate, baby!

~ I guess we're still mid RainPayu? I don't remember their exact timeline, but I do think it wasn't finished until summer break.

~ Wise elder and occasional wingman/occasional cockblock Saifah is back.

~ I actually like Prapai's decision to pursue Sky. He's waited months, Sky's still on his mind; it makes sense. (However I still don't trust how he's going to go about his pursuit.)

~ More weather puns. They're probably even better if I understand Thai.

~ Sig relaxing and having fun reading 💜 And pulling an all-nighter to do it. I knew there was a reason he's a fandom fave.

~ (More acting through pouting. I'm still not sure about this choice, even with my beloved Sky. Ok, actually I am sure; I don't like it.)

~ Ok, yes, objectively Prapai is being a creep here. But it kinda works for me. And I love Sky's sarcastic responses. 💜 (I think he knows who it is?)

~ Or I guess not?

~ Not to justify predatory behavior, but I'm gonna justify predatory behavior by saying that it's at least plausible that Prapai would think that Sky would welcome this game. (If I squint and ignore a lot.)

~ Oh, Sky 🥺 Is that why you think it couldn't be Prapai? Obviously he's attracted to you, that's how this all started, remember? Are you dealing with low self esteem along with your trauma?

~ More shirtless seme in his home gym scene for... reasons. Damn, this scene isn't even pretending to be about anything but admiring Prapai's body. No objection here. I have to say, my first thought (other than hot!) when I see a muscled up actor these days is "good for him, I'm glad he gets a chance to show off all that hard work in building those muscles."

~ SIG!!! 🥳 In the perfect setting for his weirdness. I'll bet $100 bucks this scene was improvised by Tonnam.

~ Hiding behind the box!! Instant reflex. I love it. Too bad it's also completely ineffective.

~ Rain! Why are you selling out your bestie like this? 😟 oh, I guess he's just kind of oblivious.

~ Prapai is a manipulative dick, but my expectations for him were on the floor, so I'm able to find it kind of cute. And Sky kind of opened himself up by not accepting Rain's offer for a ride. He seems like he'd know better.

~ Prapai's attempt at seduction is neither awful nor all that interesting. I like Sky's hardass responses though.

~ Aww, I think I'm gonna like Sky's developing habit of grabbing Prapai by the collar. And Prapai's smitten look as he Sky walks away.

~ Again establishing (to the audience though not to Prapai) that it's lack of trust, not lack of interest.

~ the steel-hearted boy. I love it.

~ Sky makes a very good point and Rain should grovel. Never give out anyone's phone number without their permission. Rain you darling space cadet.

~ I 💜 Sky

~ Not really excited about this dorm manager gossip, tbh. I like her outfits though, those triangle earrings especially.

~ The complex and nuanced journey of Sky's face when he's on the phone with Prapai. (My instinct is to blame all the moments of overacting on the director, because he can be quite good and subtle.)

~ Plant daddy 🪴 Sky doesn't want to hurt the sunflowers 🌻 🥺 (25 bucks that next episode we'll see them in a vase and not in the trash can.)

~ Teenagers. Lol, Sky is four years older than you, you nepo baby.

~ I like this (probably long-suffering) assistant!

I went into this with basement level expectations for Prapai, both because of Mame in general, and because from the few glimpses I saw on my dash that made it past the filters, it seemed like people hated him. He managed to be nowhere near as bad as I expected, so I was able to enjoy him and Sky overall. I'm sure if I'd watched it naïve I would have hated him much more.

#love in the air #prapaisky #love in the air ep 8 #live in the air the series #kind of like liveblogging #gillianthecat reacts to bl #reaction by gillianthecat #sig!!!!!!#tonnam piamchon

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fereldanwench · 1 year

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just some somewhat vague personal life ramblings under le cut:

(cw for mental health stuff) ((im okay now but i definitely wasn't lmao))

i had a really good talk with my brother last week--we were seriously on the phone for almost 4 hours--and I'm not gonna get into most of the specifics, but it was very enlightening and validating on some lifelong struggles we both dealt with in our family and how that's impacted us as adults. (although i think they impacted me more as the oldest daughter.)

more specifically, i did talk a lot about how i was fucking miserable last fall, and i knew i was miserable in the moment, but i don't think i did fully realize to what extent. i just could not dig myself out of the mental hole, and every time i tried, it just felt like quicksand--struggling to get out just made me feel like i was sinking deeper. yanno. classic depression shit.

and a lot of it is related to my professional life. tl;dr - last spring i had to go back to a job i hate because i couldn't find anything else and my husband was about to lose his job at the time, and it's almost been a year and i'm still getting fucked over by being in this psuedo-manager position while i am not being paid for it despite ten months worth of meetings trying to rectify this.

i wanted (still want) out so bad, but i couldn't even update my resume or look at job listings without just completely spiraling. the job-hunting process just felt... worse than being employed at a job i hate, i guess. not feeling like i could find a good match, the stupid corporate lingo in listings, easy applies not actually being easy, recruiters who never actually read my resume, dehumanizing interviews, straight-up scams--i couldn't fucking do it.

and on top of that, i had to carry me and the husband financially for about half a year. i don't want to rehash all that, but suffice to say i just felt like everything was on me, and i had no one to turn to for anything. he did find something that ended up being a really good fit, and he's been working for about 4.5 months now, which did help my mental state a lot. but even that took a while to mend those particular struggles.

but i think having an honest, empathetic conversation about all of this was really what i needed to move forward. i had just been burying so much of this deep down for so long that i was just never in the right mental place to actually fucking deal with it and move on.

and then last night i just got a burst of motivation and finally updated my resume, and i didn't even feel the urge to cry, lmao. not once. still wish evil things on people who write job listings but baby steps.

however, i'm actually not in a huge rush at this exact moment to leave my current job despite my many grievances--we don't get vacation leave until at least a year of employment, so i have to wait until this may to get a whopping two weeks of paid leave. i can stick out another two months for that.

i would like to be out by the end of this summer at the latest, though, and i would l like to not have to rush into another job that'll end up fucking me over one way or another. so i definitely need to start the process now.

and it's basically spring here! i got my little porch garden going yesterday which is like an automatic mental boost. loving the sunshine and warm, but not stiflingly hot, afternoons 💐☀️🌿

#t: wench.txt

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bentosandbox · 2 years

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Some thoughts on Chen and the summer event story (TL)

(Sees event discourse on TL) oh yeah there was this blog post I translated a while back about Chen’s characterisation in Dossoles and the writer let me share it sooo (you can read a summary here)

Overall the story feels average, there are parts that I like very much and parts that I think could be better. Lungmen group interaction is the biggest bright colour in summer! From their casual clothing to their beauty to dialogue... It's all so cute!

But the failure of Chen's characterisation is obvious. Maybe it doesn't matter to a non-chef(someone who doesn't make fanwork), but I can clearly recognise that the character I like and love is not the Chen here. From the very first time I looked at her file: "When an idealist finds out the world may not be so black and white, "Chen doesn't know? Chen wouldn't know? Chen Hui Chieh, Chen Sir, Chief Lungmen guard Department Special Inspection Unit wouldn't know?! even if you want to express this kind of meaning you shouldn't be using such silly words (not saying hoshiguma but the [copywriting]) you make her look like a hot blooded fool who has yet to experience the world.

And then the event is like this, the art(the whole chen art sucks debacle) made a group of people quit, and the story probably made another group do so. Is Chen's character that hard to grasp, or has HG given up on shaping her character just to make her seem like she's grown?

I remember the Chen from the main story, she clearly knows plenty of evil exists but is not afraid to stain herself with the blood of others, is aware of the blood on her hands, and will adhere to her own bottom line and sense of justice. Her justice is never false and empty. She will treat the infected harshly, while going to the slums to leave them some hope, she will resort to covert operations to achieve her goal, but never involve the innocent. She will firmly enforce the laws of lungmen and procedures that she approves of, and will put up a resistance when wei yanwu does more than what should be done.

"It's because I am like this, that I should see, and must see."

She will not run away or back down.

Which is why I was so dumbfounded when she rebuked Lin for sending people into the residential areas to steal bombs for the fun of it. I felt so powerless in my anger as she repeatedly emphasised her confusion and lack of understanding. I just wanted to sneer when her voice and file implied that she wasn't so sharp anymore.

I'd be disappointed if her epiphany and dissimilarity stemmed from the things she couldn't change in this strange city...were all the cases she worked on before absolutely black? Is lungmen that peaceful? No class conflict at all? Did the conflict between the infected and non infected not cause any tiny ripples in her psyche? If she was really incapable of empathy, how could she have said this line when Amiya faced Misha:

"If you want to hate, then hate me."

She will bear it and take responsibility.

"Fate is unfair."

"Everyone has to bear the consequences of the choices they make.

Infected or not, it makes no difference."

"Make your choice and bear the consequences of it."

Her incisiveness isn't reckless from not understanding the cost, it's not that she has never been in pain and does not know the severity of things, but that she understands she will be bruised and may even be betrayed, but she still wants to reach out to those who ask for help.

She will bear the consequences of her own choice.

Kindness requires a price, she understands this, but she still chooses to be kind.

Return my incisive Chen to me HG.

About the conflict between Chen and Lin. Procedural justice presupposes recognition of the process, and Chen also recognizes Lungmen's system of regulations to work there, but when it comes to Dossoles, these do not apply. They both need to re-adapt, although because of the different positions Yuxia will adapt faster, but their essential conflict has no place to stand, they just want to prop up their biases and give them a reason to be angry at each other. You could say they were trying to explore the concept of "don't follow the ways of the ones before you" But if it's just because of this that they fight, it's really easy to make Chen look quite reckless and unreasonable......

When a modern person meets a feudal society, will they sincerely recognise and adhere to their rules? Will they not live to rebel against the revolutionaries who rise up to say "bloodshed is injustice"? Even if the insurgents may not know what a right path is, or that history proves they won't improve things, it doesn't prevent the rulers from being wrong. Criticism can be more grounded in reality, such as the consequences of resorting to foreign forces, rather than saying that there should not be bloodshed and resistance.

But another thing I appreciate in the story is the portrayal of Candela, who "entertains everything and is under her own rules" (not that I agree with her philosophy), like when DDD woke up and thought it was worth writing a song about their "conversation". Candela is not crazy or absolutely evil, she does it because she believes it is the only way - the way shaped by money and desire. This is her limitation, but instead of giving in to her desire, she wants to control it completely - just as she would not compare herself to the sun. The sun is 'great', and the ideal in her heart is as well, but she maps it out perfectly. From this point of view, she and Wei Yanwu are indeed characters who can stand side by side.

Both of them have a lot to live up to. Young people have to progress and question, but that shouldn't stop us from offering applause for the previous generation that had flawed but worked hard to build the paths that brought us to where we are today. But after the applause, you'll still have to find your own way.

From this point of view, it is not inappropriate to say that this is a supplement to the (Lungmen crew's) main story, the core is very similar and a dedicated event that is not easily dispersed by the huge amount of information. It also puts several of them in a more unfamiliar environment, pulling them out to re-examine their choices and thoughts.

The subject matter and intention is well chosen, but unfortunately, as mentioned earlier, the characters can not stand on their own, the conflict is not sharp enough, a determined but also entitled and powerful person (Candela) versus a confused person (actually tequila's character is written really well), a person who only wants to fight (Pancho), and a person who just wants to follow her dad (la pluma)... and then the outsider (Chen) blanks out for a few times, and then everything is over... (is it not) too much of a farce? How could a combination like this depict a serious ideological tragedy?

My two most favourite lines in the story is what appears to be a hoshiswire interaction on the outside:

"You know what Chen would do."

"Then my answer is the same as hers."

They're the same (kind of) person after all. I love them so much. I love Lungmen.

#i should tag all these tl posts under something #arknights

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oonajaeadira · 1 year

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Hey, Adira! Hope you're having a great night! For the weird asks, how about: 9. favorite smell in the summer? 33. most used phrase in your phone? 68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Have I told you lately that I love you?

It's so nice to be creeping back onto the tumbles again....thank you for making me feel welcome. <3

Favorite smell in the summer:

Wow. They weren't kidding when they said these questions were weird. Is it asking about my favorite smell period and then what it's like in summer? Or a smell specific to summer? I assume it's the latter. And while I could go on about my favorite smells in spring (lilacs), fall (dying leaves and cool air), and winter (cinnamon), summer is a hard one. Everything just smells more intense and it's usually the blech--hot garbage, hot bodies, hot dog shit. (Can you tell I'm not a huge fan of summer?)

So I had to think about things I do specifically in the summer that I don't do any other time of year and I came up with two: the State Fair, and Ren Fest. Of those two--mini donuts and nag champa respectively--I'm actually gonna go with nag champa. It's a pretty nostalgic scent for me in many ways--from the music store I loved in college, to the buddhist temples I visited all over Asia, the years I performed at Ren Fest, and a girl I really admired when I was young and how her hair smelled of it.

Because, as much as I LOVE the smell of mini-donuts, there just aren't as many memories tied to it. Unless you count the many times I have eaten mini donuts. Which are all very happy.

Most used phrase in my phone:

I actually don't know how to look that up. I don't use my phone much. I despise typing on my phone so it's mainly used to read emails or play games. Most of the friends I have that need to get hold of me know to find me over email or Marco Polo. I am very reluctant to text.

If I had to guess, it's probably "Okay" or "Thanks" or "Here."

Worst flavor of any food or drink I've ever tried:

The image of this tin is enough to make me throw things. This is what hell tastes like.

My father always had a tin of these fuckers and I remember trying so hard not to cough when I was sick and running to my room to cough into my pillow so my dad wouldn't hear and give me a piece of this evil.

(My dad was kind of an assface when I was little and was one of those "children are better seen than heard" types. Coughing was an annoyance and had to be stopped at all costs.)

So nowdays, Sucrets comes in cherry and honey flavor. But this tin up here? I don't know wtf that was. I wanna say anise and horehound? They were NOT sweet, but they were medicinal AF and had hexylresorcinol in them. That's a minor anesthetic, so it also had numbing factors to it. (Which just compounded the misery because I also had dental issues that are really too long to get into here, but I had to have my mouth numbed A LOT when I was young and that was a thing wrapped up in so much trauma....)

Dad wouldn't let me chew these satan pucks to make them dissolve faster or drink water to wash the taste away. So I used to let them sit on my tongue in one spot because if I moved it around my mouth I could taste it more. But you know what happens when you press an anesthetic lozenge in one spot in your mouth for too long? I wouldn't be able to taste anything in that spot for like a week.

I can still taste those things. And I'll never forgive him for it.

weird asks that say a lot

#ask games

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millersmorgan · 2 years

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Hi Hi friends! :)

I'm not new here nor am I new to writing but I am new to writing on a public platform! Here are some people I will write for (please read my rules that are listed under this before requesting anything!):

The Last of Us (Part 1 & 2)

Joel Miller (fluff, smut, platonic)

Jesse (fluff, smut, platonic)

Ellie Williams (18+ only Ellie, don't be a weirdo) (fluff, platonic, allusions to smut but nothing graphic)

Red Dead Redemption 2

Arthur Morgan (fluff, smut, platonic)

Lenny Summers (fluff, platonic, allusions to smut)

John Marston (fluff, smut, platonic)

Dutch Van Der Linde (fluff, platonic, allusions to smut)

Charles Smith (fluff, smut, platonic)

Resident Evil Village

Karl Heisenberg (fluff, smut, platonic)

Chris Redfield (fluff, smut, platonic)

Moon Knight

Layla El-Faouly (fluff, smut, platonic)

The Mandalorian

Din Djarin (fluff, smut, platonic)

RULES

When requesting smut, be 18 and over. I will not take smut requests from anyone who does not have their age in their bio. I will likely not do smut requests from anons either for this reason, sorry in advance <;3

As listed above, 18+ for smut requests. I will only be taking smut requests for a handful of the above characters as some of them are easier to write for than others. Fluff, however, is open to all characters listed above.

Please be specific when requesting. I don't want to write something you don't enjoy because I misinterpreted your request

Absolutely no dubcon, noncon/rape elements, incest, proshipping, etc. of any kind when requesting smut. No dark themes or affair requests of any kind. Everyone in these stories is assumed to be single at the time of interaction x

AU requests are welcome! Just no cross-overs.

I will only be communicating through asks so feel free to send anything there any time but please only like once or twice per day. I'm currently in college so it'll take me a while to get to requests! I will do my best to get things out when I can :)

Hate of any kind will not be tolerated on my page. You will be blocked and/or reported x. Also, please do not repost my stuff anywhere unless you ask first, thank you!

Characters I will write smut for:

Joel Miller

Jesse

Arthur Morgan

Charles Smith

John Marston

Karl Heisenberg

Chris Redfield

Layla El-Faouly

Din Djarin

Characters I'm not writing smut for & why:

Ellie Williams - listen I get it, she's adorable in part 2! I'd just prefer not to write smut about her. It's hard to put myself in that mindset to even think about her in that way. (I will write things that allude to smut but absolutely nothing graphic. It's hard to put myself in that mindset for Ellie - sorry friends.)

Lenny Summers - I love Lenny, he's so cute! I actually can't picture Lenny being sexual in like any way. I know he's in a gang and literally kills/has killed people but like...I don't know I just can't lol. I will write LOADS of fluff and things that allude to smut but nothing graphic for him.

Dutch Van Der Linde - listen I KNOW! I know he's hot, okay?? I'd just rather not write smut about him, I'm sorry <;/3. He just feels too much like he'd be my father :|. Allusions to smut are fine though! Just nothing graphic for Dutch either.

Please feel free to request other people and ask if I am comfortable writing for them :) I forget sometimes. If you have any questions regarding the rules, feel free to ask those as well! And if you're still confused as to why I won't write smut for Ellie, Lenny, or Dutch, again feel free to ask! I will happily answer any questions anyone has!!! BUT, I want to make it abundantly clear that I will NOT be writing for Micah Bell under ANYYY circumstances. OR Bill.

Okay now that that's all out of the way, I look forward to your requests and I'm really sorry this is so long! I have an AO3 as well that I will be cross-posting on that I will link my masterlist once I make one!! Anyone that has any series ideas or requests are also welcome! Anyways, thanks for reading! :)

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